#yes i did really lose 1k from that interaction

[olifdraws]

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[leventart-den]

Ch.02 of Interactive ZoSan fanfic.

AN:

Hi guys! Did I say I'll do 1k word chapters? I lied. This one is almost 5,500 words. Please be careful and look at the tags.

Beta-readed by wonderful @dad-cahoon ! Thank you so much for your help! AO3 link. I hope you will be satisfied with your choice. Without further ado, let's continue.

***

-= My 4am Sun =-

Ch.02 “Good intentions and Nothing's wrong”

Sanji turned off the tap, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and feeling a dry cough creeping up his throat. What the hell is going on with him? All these symptoms are all over the place and do not add up to a single picture at all. If he had been injured or poisoned or something like that, at least he would have felt something specific. But this... this is getting weirder and weirder. At least his modified body has time to react and tries to fix the problem. If you think about it... perhaps that is precisely the reason why he continues to function even when his consciousness turns off. Sanji isn't sure if this is good or bad, though. Not having control over his actions worries him, of course. But at least it's not someone controlling him, it's his own reflexes and knowledge and so he trusts himself not to cause trouble to others. At least he really wants to think so. 

Sanji coughs, feeling the familiar metallic taste on his tongue and hearing the door to the kitchen open, so he hastily wipes his lips with his sleeve just in case. His shirt is dark today, nothing will be visible on it. He doesn’t turn around yet, but he hears the familiar sound of footsteps and the subtle chime of metal on metal. He knows it too well. 

He knows even before he hears the annoying…

"Oi, cook! Luffy is ready to start chewing his own leg. When's the food?" It's rough and a little too loud for the isolated silence of his kitchen a moment ago. Yes, that's him. Idiot mosshead. 

Sanji swallows and exhales, turning to the intruder, ready to snap back. He knows the drill. But at the last moment he changes his mind. He doesn't feel like starting to argue now. He feels too exhausted. 

"Tell everyone they can pull up in five minutes." His answer is short and dry as his throat is now, but he doesn’t care. Sanji walks past Zoro, taking plates out of the cabinet and getting ready to set the table. The other is silent. He doesn't go anywhere. Sanji placed the plates on the table and began arranging the cutlery. 

Zoro was still there, somewhere behind him. 

Staring. 

Unnerving.

But Sanji doesn't lash out this time as usual. All he wants is to finish breakfast and be left alone with himself to try to understand what is happening to him. If Marimo wants to hang around here and watch, well, fine, he will finish the preparations and call everyone himself, not such a big deal.

Or so he thought.

Sanji went to get larger plates to put the food into when the silence was broken again.

“Oi, shitty cook! What...” The hand accompanying the voice grabbed him by the elbow, stopping him halfway, but Sanji didn’t let him finish. He suddenly felt a pain under his skin, as if in another second his bone would break. He pulled his hand out in panic, stepping back, but realizing what he was doing, he hurried to cover his own fear by biting in response.

"What, Marimo? What the hell do you want? You asked when the food will be ready - I answered. Now sit down and wait in silence or go get fucking lost!" He found himself almost screaming at the end. He was out of breath. It was nothing new for them to argue like this. But for some reason this time it felt wrong and Sanji regretted giving in. From the moment the battle ended and he found himself “losing time” and this strange state of his, everything seemed too much. It overwhelmed him, confused him, preventing him from thinking clearly. He desperately wanted to hide somewhere in a corner away from everything and everyone and be able to breathe out and process everything. 

But at the same time, now that he thought about it, he felt guilty that he wanted to be away from the others. They were his nakama, his family. How dare he think about them like that? 

Ungrateful. 

Useless. 

Weak. 

As always.

He felt a mocking laugh escape his throat, choking him for a second.

"What the hell is wrong with you, cook..."

Sanji heard the other's voice cut through the beginning ringing in his ears like a hot knife through butter. It snapped him out of his thoughts and for the first time Sanji was grateful for it.

Regardless, he grimaced, still annoyed, and went back to setting the table.

"Nothing's wrong, shithead." he snapped in his usual manner, although a little too hoarsely. He clenched his teeth, swallowing hard against another cough.

He didn't see Zoro watching him intently; otherwise he would have noticed the gloomy concern so unusual for the one-eyed swordsman.

.

There was something strange about the cook, Zoro noticed it during the battle. As a warrior, he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings and those around him, and after so many years of fighting with and against the cook, he unwittingly learned enough to notice when something was off. And now, as the first mate in this crew, Zoro is obliged to figure out what the problem is and take care of eliminating it in order to avoid further possible troubles. It was just that, nothing else, he told himself.

Well… More like he reminded himself if he was completely frank. Because despite the fact that they had never been close friends, Zoro increasingly caught himself thinking that he was too used to the shitty cook and their constant bickering and fighting. And he missed it when he was away. And now, when there is even the slightest shift in their routine, he notices it and wants to immediately fix it, to make it as it was before. He doesn't want any changes when it comes to Curls.

He does not want.

And so he will watch. And if he doesn’t admit what’s going on, he knows him well enough to know what points to press. Despite the fact that Zoro is not the type of person who would manipulate and deceive, in this situation he is ready to resort to it. It's for the cook's own good, after all.

So now Zoro opened his mouth to demand an answer, but approaching voices and the opening of the kitchen door, followed by a demand for food from their captain, stopped him. Zoro sighed, heading to the table - it looked like the conversation would have to be postponed.

.

Sanji breathed a sigh of relief when the kitchen door opened and Luffy burst inside from the threshold, stretching out his raking hands to the food that the cook had not even managed to put on the table yet. He had felt the shift in energy from the swordsman earlier and was sure that he was going to try to ask him a question again, so the distraction was very welcome. Sanji wasn't sure how it would have ended if that interrogation had continued. Right now, though, everything has slowly returned to normal with noisy pirates in the kitchen and a table laden with food. It seems that everyone has already recovered a little from the night battle and regained their former bright mood.

Sanji still felt the unnerving crawl under his skin and only hoped that breakfast would pass without incident. He served and smiled as always, showering compliments on the girls and barely having time to knock on the captain’s hands so that he wouldn’t steal food from other people’s plates. 

God, he loved this so much. He did not realize that in this short time he had missed such a carefree routine. Everything else seemed like a bad dream now. Unfortunately for him though, good things don't last.

He almost tripped when his heart painfully skipped several beats and rushed forward simultaneously with a sickening sensation somewhere in his guts. It’s good that at that moment he was busy on the side preparing dessert and his hesitation would not be noticeable. Sanji bit his tongue, forcing himself to concentrate on what he was doing. "Not now. Not now." He thought angrily to himself. Oh he was angry. This is good. Anger is better than fear. He can work with it.

He put the desserts aside, about to return to the table to check if anyone needed anything, when the shitty swordsman spoke again and Sanji felt like throwing up.

.

Zoro ate, not really paying attention to the conversations of others and what was happening around him. It bugged him, but his thoughts kept returning to the night's battle and the cook. He can't say when things changed, but he remembers the moment he noticed the other wasn't moving and called out. He didn't get an answer, but Curly got back into motion, throwing kicks and taking down one opponent after another. He was efficient and precise in his attacks and Zoro remembered that, for some reason, that made him nervous. It looked too off. Too lifeless. Not like his usual cook. 

Their, he meant, their cook.

And now, watching him, he clearly saw strange signs. A barely noticeable pallor, a sheen of sweat above his brow and hair that curled and stuck to his neck. He could see the tense shoulders and the overly heaving chest under his clothes as he took deep, careful breaths from time to time. Was the stupid cook injured? He didn't look like it when the battle was over. Zoro probably should tell Chopper, but then again that would have been hypocritical on his part. At the end of the day, Dartbrow is a grown ass man and can take care of himself. And if he himself doesn’t turn to Chopper, it means nothing serious. Right?

Right. But knowing his pride and stubbornness, the cook, just like Zoro himself, will walk around with a wound until he passes out. Hell, why is this suddenly bothering him so much? Shitty shittcook. If he doesn't want to tell Zoro what's wrong, then he knows what strings to pull. After all, he never backs down from a challenge. They both don't.

And so he lowers his chopsticks and places a smirk on his lips, raising his voice.

"Oi, cook! Why don't you eat anything? Or is your shitty food so shitty that it makes you sick?" Zoro knew that he was deliberately provoking the cook in order to force him to take care of himself and finally sit down and eat. But the second those words left his mouth, he regretted them. The conversations at the table faltered for a second and Nami gave him a look that he didn't quite understand, but suspected that it was hiding condemnation. Although no one commented on anything, returning to previous conversations, that second of awkwardness in the atmosphere was enough for Zoro to understand that he had gone too far. Everyone loved Sanji's cooking and even Zoro stopped using the topic as a reason to fight over the years. So now it really did sound overly rude.

Zoro felt angry at himself and at the cook for making him look like an idiot. Although he forgot about it the second he saw how pale the curl had become. He looked sick. But despite this, he did not argue, but defiantly took the plate, placed it firmly on the table, sat down and began to eat. His whole demeanor screamed "Here you go, you shitty Marimo! My food is great!"

Yep, never backs down from a challenge. Zoro felt himself grinning. It was like everything was okay. 

Except that it wasn't. And the cook's strengthened grip on the fork to stop the shaking of his hand spoke volumes. 

It sent a pang somewhere inside Zoro and he didn't like it. He didn't understand this feeling, so he didn't like it.

This has to stop. 

Zoro will need to talk to him after breakfast, since no one else noticed anything.

It's strange how Zoro can go days without thinking about Curly at all, but once something like this happens, he can't seem to think about anything else. And this is a distraction that he wants to get rid of.

He caught Robin's knowing glance at him and frowned. It made him nervous. Zoro quickly returned to his food. Which, by the way, was delicious as always, but for some reason he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

.

Sanji's guts twisted at the mere thought of eating. By this moment, he already clearly knew that something was seriously wrong with his body. It felt as if something was constantly torn and broken in him, and now, for the first time ever, he was glad of his Germa modifications, thanks to which his body was able to regenerate at inhuman speed. He probably would have been dead by now if not for that. 

And of course, right now stupid Marimo had to insult his food so of course he couldn't help but accept the challenge. So he sat down and began to eat, feeling each bite scratch his parched throat and taste like ash. The food threatened to rise back up, but Sanji stubbornly continued to eat until his plate was empty. He caught Zoro's eye and flipped him the bird. By this point everyone had finished their main meal and Sanji stood up for dessert, breathing through his nose and trying not to stagger. He felt hot and cold at the same time and just hoped that he didn't look as bad as he felt. It was a blessing that his team, as always, was engrossed in conversation and did not pay attention to him.

When breakfast finally came to an end and Sanji began unloading the dishes into the sink, he glanced in Zoro's direction, seeing him rise from the table, looking at him with the clear intention of approaching him. Sanji felt his heart nervously speed up, pushing the breakfast he had just eaten closer to his throat. But thank all the gods, the swordsman was stopped by Franky, who declared that he needed another pair of strong hands in some new project and dragged him away from the kitchen. Zoro didn't protest and Sanji hoped that he would forget about him while he was busy. Stupid Marimo suddenly became annoyingly persistent and Sanji had absolutely no idea why. Did he suddenly start caring about the cook? No. Definitely not. He must have just gotten bored, as often happens, and wanted a fight. Well, unfortunately for him, Sanji had no time for that now and Zoro will have to find other fun.

The cup clinked against the plate in the sink as his hand slipped from the glass as something stabbed painfully inside him. The kitchen was finally quiet again when the last strawhat left it and closed the door behind him. He was alone again and Sanji wasn't sure if he was happy about it or not, because without a source of distraction he was fully aware of how shitty he felt. He had work to do but he just couldn't bring himself to move. He seriously began to think that maybe it was worth turning to Chopper. But on the other hand, if his problem cannot be solved by the usual medical means, he will only bring anxiety to the little reindeer and the rest.

The numb feeling of a handprint on his back suddenly reminded him of itself and Sanji felt like he was going to throw up.This time for sure. He tasted blood on his tongue. He hastily turned off the water and rushed to the restroom, covering his mouth with his hand and feeling the blood seep through his fingers and flow down his arm into his sleeve. He barely managed to close the door behind himself and fell to his knees in front of the toilet when his body trembled with a violent spasm, pushing blood and what looked suspiciously like chunks of his own flesh out of his throat. Sanji coughed and shook and felt like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs.

His head hurt from lack of oxygen and tension, but he couldn't stop. The blood continued to rise up his throat and he felt like he was drowning in it. He wasn't sure how long it took until all that came out was dry retching. He spat several times, swallowing, and pushed himself away from the toilet, leaning against the nearest wall while sitting on the floor. Everything was spinning and he forced his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to breathe, but he couldn't stay like this, he needed to move and get himself in order. He's not dying, at least not yet. His body, cursed by Germa, is already beginning to heal itself, he can feel it. But for how long and how often. Is there a limit to his regeneration? How damaged his body must be so that he cannot recover. This is so inhumane. It's like he's a thing that can be broken and put back together as if nothing happened. There are not even scars and no one will know.

It's that feeling on his back again, pulling him out of his thoughts and reminding him that he has to move. So he moves. Sanji flushes the toilet, doing a quick job of cleaning up the traces of blood on the floor and tossing the tissues into the trash. He leaned against the door, listening if anyone was nearby, and carefully left the restroom, moving into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. 

It's a good thing that he kept some spare clothes in a drawer here just in case. They all did, actually. Because it often happened that someone forgot a change of clothes when going to the shower after another game with the captain, which inexorably ended in dirty clothes and bruises.

So now Sanji simply took out another pair of clothes and began to undress. He stopped when he unbuttoned his shirt, inadvertently catching his own reflection in the mirror. He looked terrible. His hair disheveled and stained with blood, as was his face and neck. Thank the gods that no one saw him like that. It’s not that he’s never been seen like this, but it’s one thing when it happens during a battle and quite another in peacetime on a ship. 

He doesn't want to make them scared. He doesn't want to upset them. They have enough in their lives for Sanji to add problems to them. That's why he'll try to deal with his own shit himself. He takes a breath and finally takes off his shirt, pauses and then turns his back to the mirror, looking at his reflection over the shoulder. He doesn't know what he expected to see there. Possibly an impact mark or some kind of burn. But definitely not a palm-shaped black ink stain. It also has some runes around the edges. Sanji reaches back and touches the ink with his fingers. It bites back as if full of static. It was weird. 

He brought his fingers closer, examining the dark stain on them. It looked dry, like dust, but at the same time did not come off the skin. He looked more closely and almost shuddered when the particles suddenly moved, looking more like miniature needles. The next moment they disappeared under his skin, giving that stabbing sensation again.

"Fucking hell." He cursed under his breath, feeling like he was going to be sick again.

It looks like his situation becoming more and more disgusting. If he got it right, this shit, whatever the hell this is, can move and is migrating somewhere in his body. And worse than that, it can damage him. And kill him, judging by the way his body reacted in the first hours. Was this the work of the fruit user or something else? However, now this is not so important. The important thing is...

"So, you've finally figured it out... Vinsmoke Sanji." It was a whisper, but it seemed that it sounded too loud and was coming from everywhere. Sanji flinched so hard that he almost crashed into the sink. His heart was beating at a crazy speed, he forgot how to breathe. He did not dare to move or say anything, afraid to hear the voice again. Is he really going insane? No, unfortunately, not. Now Sanji was almost sure that he had not imagined the voice, but that it was quite real and that its owner was directly connected with the ink mark. How much worse could things get?

He really shouldn't have asked this question because, as if mockingly, the next second he heard a knock on the bathroom door and a familiar voice.

"Cook! Is that you there? We really need to talk." It was silent for several seconds, clearly waiting for Sanji to respond. "Oi!"

“Fucking, fine!” Sanji barked back, losing his patience completely. Damn Marimo, he has no time for this right now.

"I'll wait here. You won't run away this time." Zoro muttered in response, unusually calm.

Sanji sighed. He's been doing this a lot lately. Well. At least he can still do it, breathe, that is. If Zoro decided to wait for him, then he has no choice but to forget everything and just rush to get himself in order and get it over with.

At least the voice was silent and he's grateful for that.

Sanji hurried to take a quick shower, washing the blood and sweat from his body and hair. Gods, he was disgusting. He brushed his teeth after getting dressed, feeling a little better afterward. He no longer stank and his clothes did not stick to his body so unpleasantly. He could still taste the blood though.

He took a quick look in the mirror to check that everything was fine. 

Nothing was fine, judging by his pale face and dark circles under his reddened eyes. He winced as the water dripped from his hair down the collar of his shirt, but Sanji didn't want to waste time drying it. 

He wanted to quickly deal with Zoro and leave.

So he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom.

.

Zoro was glad that he was able to quickly finish with Franky because his thoughts kept returning to the cook and it irritated him. He hurried to the kitchen, hoping that, as always, after washing the dishes and cleaning, he would start making preparations for lunch. But when he opened the door and looked into the kitchen, there was no one there. He looked around the room and found that the dishes were still in the sink and everything remained the same as it was when they all left. It was unsettling, the cook never left his precious kitchen in such a state. Moreover, after standing here for a while, Zoro thought he caught a familiar smell.

The blood.

His gaze ran around and fell down to the floor. There, almost near the door, he saw several dark drops. He crouched down, touching them with his fingers and smearing them. Yes, definitely blood.

Fucking cook.

The Hell "nothing's wrong."

Zoro stood up and hurried to look for him. This time he will force him to confess even if he has to knock it out of the stupid stubborn cook. And he doesn't care how hypocritical it is.

And now, after about half an hour of sitting under the bathroom door, he finally came face to face with Curly. He couldn't do anything other than frown after looking him over. He didn't look good, not his usual self. Not that Zoro thought the cook usually looked good. Of course not.

“So, what do you want from me, mosshead?” His irritated and slightly hoarse voice snapped Zoro out of his thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, Sanji walked back towards the kitchen so Zoro followed, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to be calm. Now is not the time for a fight.

"I want you to talk. As a first mate, I need to know what's wrong with you." Zoro responded, quickening his pace, not allowing him to increase the distance.

"I already said, nothing's wrong" Sanji bit back again.

Yes, sure. Zoro won't back down this time.

"You're lying. You look like crap and I found blood on your damn kitchen floor!" The swordsman could not stand it and barked back. He saw Sanji open his mouth to object again, but Zoro had enough. He grabbed the other man by the shirt and slammed him back into the wall. His eye narrowed dangerously.

"Stop feeding me this crap. Hell.." He growled in his face, his nostrils flared and Sanji suddenly realized with creeping horror mixed with burning embarrassment that Zoro was sniffing like a devil hound. "You stink of blood even though you took a shower. Where is…" 

Zoro didn't have time to finish asking where he was injured when Sanji pushed him away from himself, his eyes burning with anger, he looked flushed.

"Get away from me, you stupid fucking idiot!" Sanji almost screamed as he kicked the swordsman into the opposite wall and rushed forward towards the door.

"Oh fuck no, I said not this time!" Zoro growled in response, hurrying after him and again grabbing his shirt, which was already cracking, but the fabric was strong enough not to give in.

The hallway wasn't big enough for them to really fight, so it was more like a bar brawl now, but somehow they ended up on the deck and Sanji high-kicked Zoro with all his might. It didn't land, blocked by the back of Zoro's sword.

"I'm not in the mood to fight, stupid Marimo." Sanji hissed through his teeth, stepping aside. His breathing was ragged. His shirt is crooked with a loose button.

“Then don’t fight, just tell me what’s wrong with you.” Sanji opened his mouth again to answer this but Zoro stopped him. "No. Stop being a stubborn idiot. This is not the place. You are a cook, yes, but you are also a fighter in this crew. You fight on the front lines. You cannot behave so irresponsibly. If you're not at your best, you can become a liability…” Zoro saw the cook flinch at the last phrase. He felt a small voice inside him screaming that he had to stop here. That he shouldn't continue. But he pushed forward. “At best, someone will have to save you, and at worst, your weakness can kill someone. Do you really want that? Be the cause of someone's injury or death because you were too weak, unable to fight and not only protect others but even yourself?"  

Zoro barely had time to finish when he had to defend himself from the stream of blows that rained down on him. It looks like he really struck a chord with him. He didn't know how deep though. And if he had known, he would have closed his mouth and never uttered those words. 

If he had known how the fight would end this time, he would not have pulled out his sword. 

As it was now, Zoro responded to each of Sanji's attacks with equal force. When he remembers their fight later, it was a blur. They kicked and slashed at each other like two wild beasts, screaming and snarling. He remembered how angry the stupid cook was with him, throwing attack after attack, so desperately as if trying to prove something. 

At some point, Zoro even forgot what they were fighting about, too absorbed in defense and counter-attack. He shouldn't have though. He should have paid more attention to Curly. Otherwise, he would have noticed that his attacks had become subtly slower and less accurate. Otherwise, he would not have missed this dreadful moment when, during the next attack of the swordsman, the cook suddenly faltered.

With looming horror, Zoro watched as Sanji's legs seemed to become weaker and he lost his support. The cook will not block his attack, will not dodge, he realized. “I won’t make it in time” flashed through his head while he interrupted his own sword strike, trying to divert it to the side.

However, everything happened too quickly and no matter how hard Zoro tried, his blade bit into the side of the cook, cutting through the flesh with the same ease as through the fabric of the expensive shirt that he loved to wear so much and is now irrevocably damaged.

The next moment, Sanji slammed into him with a sudden dead weight, knocking them both onto Sunny's grassy surface. Zoro didn't dare move, feeling the other's blood soaking his shirt. He didn't dare breathe.

He felt that his hand, still gripping the handle of the Wado, began to shake, and he clenched his fingers tighter so as not to cause even more damage to the other. It was becoming slippery, he realized, from the blood running down the sword. The blood of his comrade. The blood of his cook. Their cook, he still corrected himself, with detachment. 

Suddenly he remembered the promise made through den den mushi. He remembered that he was ready to fulfill it if necessary because he is a man of his word, but now... he realized, unbearably clearly, that he could never do it. He just wounded the stupid cook. Whether it's accidental or not ,doesn't matter. He shed his blood with the sword, with which he was supposed to protect his comrade as well as the rest of the crew.

He began to suffocate, Zoro realized. So he tried to take air. It was small and not enough. 

He didn't care.

The trembling in his hand seemed to spread throughout his body and Zoro clenched his teeth. For some reason he now did not dare to touch the cook. They fought often and almost always ended with superficial cuts here and there and bruises, but not like this. Never like this. They would never fight each other without being sure that the other could handle it and be able to respond equally.

Zoro should have understood, should have realized that the stubborn idiot was out of shape to the point that he couldn’t fight fully. He should have...

He should have.

Zoro drew in a hoarse breath, only now realizing that he had been hearing the voices of the other strawhats somewhere nearby for some time. He couldn't make out the words though. And he didn't care what they said.

He felt hands reaching out to them, about to pull the cook by the shoulders and turn him over, away from Zoro. They didn't seem to understand what was going on.

He felt his sword move, cutting through the flesh above him even more, and in panic grabbed Sanji's shirt, almost growling at the one who tried to pull him away. “Don't...” 

The hands stopped instantly and Zoro heard Nami gasp. She probably finally saw the blood underneath them and understood. She probably couldn’t even suspect at first that the sword cut through the other’s side and wasn’t just near him. It was too impossible. Not in this situation. 

Not with Zoro holding the sword. 

He heard Chopper howl in panic and that's what finally snapped him out of his stupor.

Zoro carefully grabbed Curly by the shoulders and moved with him, changing his position to a sitting one. He forced himself to unclench his fingers, which seemed completely frozen and did not want to let go of the hilt of the sword. His hand shook and he took a breath. It didn't help much.

"Chopper, calm down and get your medical room ready. He's not dying, it's not lethal. It's an accident."

It is an accident. He repeated in his mind, reminding himself that this was not his fault. He wanted to believe it.

He changed his grip on the cook's shoulders, using his other hand to grab him under his knees and lift him off the grass. It was the only way to carry him in this situation. He didn't want to pull out the sword here and risk him bleeding to death. It's better if Chopper does this in his office.

Also, their doctor will be able to examine this idiot and finally find out what’s wrong with him.

Yeah, Zoro, you achieved your goal... are you happy now?

He couldn't help the choked laugh that escaped his throat. 

His nakama looked at him as if he had gone mad.

He didn't care.

He tightened his grip on the other man, feeling his breath too hot on his collarbone… his hair too soft. It smelled of smoke and blood.

He didn't like it.

He hurried to the medical bay.

.

.

.

TBC.

====================================

If you were able to read this chapter, thank you very much!

It's time to choose what happens next.

P.S. Read before choosing. The first three options if you want Sanji suffered a little more on the Sunny along with Zoro. The last three if you want the plot to develop faster. Also, the last three options will carry over to the next time if you don't choose them now, with the only amendment being that someone will know about Sanji's problem.

[lythbounddrama]

Hello, yes, I’m the ‘nitpicki hoarder’ person.I’m going to preface this with I’ve known about this blog for a while. Like, how would I not? I’m sure people have seen drama blog tabs in a few of the screenshots I sent to the lyth server because I forget those are open. I’m not going to justify my reasons for looking at drama blogs other than it gives me a reminder of why I don’t do CS anymore.

I do want to correct the blog on one thing. Not counting adopts I bought from the other staff members(So just Jack’s designs, patreon, and the gem store), I spent 665 USD. It’d probably be closer to 700 if I included money spent on other staff member and GA adopts. Most of this was used for MYOs, with a portion spent on adopts and like….a frame and three pets. This is a lot of money for me, considering I work in retail as a janitor. So my paycheck is shit. I only afforded this because of a bonus program my workplace participated in, so I used that to get giftcards so I could eat but still load money into my paypal.

I didn’t actually notice the staff 'shafting’ me or anything like that. I’m not exactly the brightest sometimes and actually only found out that was probably what was going on via the blog. That shit did hurt to find out and let me tell you, it took a few days for me to come to terms to because I thought I had finally found a CS where the staff wasn’t going to be mean or even passive-aggressive to me because I don’t always know how to interact with other people. Which, I get it, I can get annoying or overstep boundaries without actually meaning to.

Honestly, the only things I noticed were weird were Jack dismissing certain suggestions, being called a whale(Which yes, did happen. I played it off as a joke if I remember), and Lechet going into one of my servers months after I posted the invite link. Which, I’m still working on the paranoia from that. Not going to go into what the paranoia was because it’s both irrelevant and I know that’ll just feed into it. Well, that and there was actually some nitpicking of my art and designs. It’s nothing I’m not used to, though, so it’s whatever.

I will admit that I’m probably why the freeplay update back in I think July was made. Particularly the labeling requirement. I did large 20+ nitpicki arts like every three months because it was fun. I did two with baby nitpicki(One you can probably still find onsite because according to a friend still in Lyth, forum threads don’t get deleted or otherwise marked.) and one with my entire hoard of nitpicki at the time. I will admit I loopholed it into being for a non-freeplay prompt because it was nearly 1k loons. I think it was 800-something? Not really enough loons for the literal months it took me to do, though. All three arts predated the freeplay update and the loopholing was purely because I didn’t want to lose out on most of the loons from that monster of a piece. I downplayed how upset I was when the update was made because I was working on a fighting-game themed art at the time it was made. I never finished it and I still have the file.

Now, those things stated, I do want to say that I had fun while I was in lyth. Mostly I left because I was bored and didn’t really care for the events mostly being the same thing every time. I kinda like a lot of variety and Lyth just didn’t scratch that itch for me. While I don’t get what the fuck Lyth is doing right now because it really makes no sense to me, I don’t actually hold any ill will.

And yes, I know about that chimefish. I forgot it existed. I can’t do anything about it, though. Cake has me blocked(Which, valid. I have offbrands of a CS I most definitely cannot afford to get into that they’re in) and I’m not going to go out of my way to bug the TH admin over a fish. It’s not worth my time and while it’s shitty cake didn’t credit me as a designer on TH, I have more important things to worry about.

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

There are nearly FORTY THOUSAND AO3 stories in the MDZS universe, and I am just a single person with limited time, so....  Here’s a bit of y’all doing my work for me!

~*~

Mojo, I know it'd probably be recced before, but I have to recommend stiltonbasket's Twelve Moons and a Fortnight. It has made me squee of cuteness, hold my breath with suspense, marvel over the worldbuilding and character interactions, and just awed me at how well every original piece of lore and HC ties back to canon. I cried over it, only to cry laughing the next chapter. it kept me going through an entire year of lockdown and is finally coming to an end, and the resolution was magnificent.

*[I’m subscribed to this and keep waiting for Part One to be completed, but instead later parts keep getting posted:  is it completed but not marked?  I am confused.  And eager to read!]*

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight

by stiltonbasket (G, 267k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  "Let me get this straight. You really want me to stand in for you while you help Jin Ling settle in at Koi Tower?"

"Who else do I have?" Jiang Cheng snaps, ears turning scarlet as Jin Ling tries to pretend he isn't listening. "Father trained you to serve as my deputy, didn't he? And don't say you don't remember, or I'll break your legs."

"Well, yes," Wei Wuxian manages. "Uh. I'll just let Lan Zhan know I'll be at Lotus Pier until you're back at home, then."

Or, the one where Wei Wuxian spends the year before his wedding as Yunmeng Jiang's acting sect leader, and the cultivation world's greatest love story finds its happy ending with the help of three juniors, a teenage romance, and one very involved (and exasperated) younger brother.

~*~

May I recommend fielty by milkpunch a sort of AU where lwj in order to save his sect from being destroyed by nine after wen rouhans assasination goes to work as a guard to Jin zixuan where he meets wwx the right hand of Jin guanguao... ~ @pastashouldbeeatenwithafork

Fealty

by milkpunch (E, 84k, wangxian)

Summary:  Before, there had been two reigning kingdoms. Both claimed to be blessed by the sun, but with vastly differing views. One, under the name of Wen, was washed red with blood and violence, its soldiers fierce and stoked with a fiery blaze. The other, under the name of Jin, was bathed in golden light and glory, its soldiers proud and heavy with coin and prestige. The two kingdoms went to war for the true honour of having the sun’s blessing, fighting for many long years with many lives lost.

Jin Guangshan, emperor of the Golden Sun Palace, found that the sun favoured him more.

To prevent his kingdom from being crushed, Lan Zhan, second heir to the Lan kingdom, exchanges his freedom for that of servitude to the Jin kingdom. He is appointed as Jin Zixuan's personal guard, but there's more on his plate than just keeping the Jin heir safe. The Golden Sun Palace is not all that it seems, and the dazzling lives of the royals are less perfect than they appear.

~*~

Hey, I was wondering if I could rec a fic to you. My bestie wrote it for the Lunar New Year Wangxian gift exchange and it definitely did not receive the attention it deserves. It's a really fun mermaid/arranged marriage au! ~ @leahlisabeth

More Than This Provincial Wife

by ApprenticedMagician (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary:  The negotiations surrounding the Lan & Jiang alliance through marriage encountered a few snags in the beginning.

~*~

I love your blog! I saw a recent post where you listed some rec's from other people? [Thank you!  And yes, I always appreciate and am happy to share your recs!]  I just read the WIP A Corpse Called By Name jaemyun and LOVED it! It's a zombie apocolypse AU, where Wei Ying gets bitten by a zombie.... and I don't want to spoil anything from there, but it is amazing! No pressure to put it in your blog, but wanted to send a note just in case. Thanks for all you do!

A Corpse Called By Name

by jaemyun (not rated, 37k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  A continuation of zombie drabble!

She loses her brother in a hoard of the undead.

She finds a corpse wearing his face in a convenience store.

The corpse calls her name.

~*~

Hi! I was wondering if I could rec this short fic that I recently found and really liked! The narrative is an inner monologue and I think it captures lwj really well :)

binding me in spells (till my heart's devoured)

by gaysgaysgays (G, <1k, wangxian)

Summary:  His scars are a reminder of his hurt, a reminder that he had healed.

(or a study of lan zhan's scars)

~*~

I found a fic I had recently asked you about, so I thought I'd share it with you: Seasons of Falling Flowers by merakily (http://archiveofourown.org/works/28522326). I rediscovered it completely by accident after listening to spinifex's excellent podfic adaptation. This is the fic where Lan Qiren despises Wei Wuxian until Wei Wuxian catches a cold and Lan Qiren find out about his golden core. That part is about 3/4 of the way through. The fic is wonderful and shows a rigid but surprisingly introspective Lan Qiren. ~ @clmoryel [Oh!  I just read this one yesterday!  Here’s my bookmark.]

Seasons of Falling Flowers

by merakily (G, 40k, wangxian, lan qiren & wei wuxian, podfic)

Summary:  Like a parasite, Wei Wuxian has this way of growing on people when you least expect it.

Over the seasons, Lan Qiren slowly pieces back together his relationship with Wangji and learns to like Wei Wuxian in the process.

(“Will you rejoin your sect?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Lan Qiren regrets his wording.

He is not surprised when Wangji’s eyes narrow, flashing with offence. “There is no need to rejoin what one has never left. I did not turn my back on my sect. My sect turned their backs on me.”)

~*~

Hi! Can I rec a fic? "bring you home" by Alasse_Irena on AO3 is a modern AU and is one of the most beautiful and atmospheric fics I have read. Thanks for you work running this blog! I have new Wangxian fics to read <3

bring you home

by Alasse_Irena (T, 28k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wei Ying rents a run-down cottage in a small town by the sea, looking for a quiet place to hide after the war.

Lan Zhan has always dreamed of the ocean. He returns to the town where he was born, and where his parents died, to find out why.

Instead, they find each other.

~*~

Good morning lady mojo, I hope you’re having a good day! I wanted to rec a fic, Breathing Firestorm by ladyshadowdrake. It’s 111k and great but barely has any love, which is unfair. You mentioned it in the last ‘in a mood for’ post but I think it should have more of a shoutout because it’s a lot of fun and I liked it a lot. Have a great day ♥️  [Oh!  I was subscribed to this one and saw it had been recently finished.  It’s def. on my list!]

Breathing Firestorm

by ladyshadowdrake (M, 111k, wangxian)

Summary:  After years of a mad quest, Wen Ruohan is finally given proof of a powerful creature living among mortals. He is delighted to find that it truly believes itself to be only a boy named “Wei Wuxian.”

While Wen Ruohan tries to unlock Wei Wuxian’s secret, the sects unite against him. If he can achieve his goal before they arrive, even the combined might of the cultivation world would not be enough to humble him. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji dreams of Wei Wuxian in the Cold Pond Cave, and works tirelessly to rescue him from Wen Ruohan’s clutches. No one is prepared for what awaits the allied sects in Nightless City at the conclusion of the war, and it very well might mean the end of the world as they know it.

~*~

Hi Mojo, firstly thank you for all the hard work you put into running this blog, I’ve found so many fics that I probably would have never come across if it wasn’t for your fic finders posts and your personal review posts.  [Aw, thank you!]

I don’t know if you’ve read this fic before or if it’s been mentioned before on your blog (I’ve done a quick search of your blog and couldn’t see it, so if I’ve missed it I apologise!) but if you’ve got a fic rec post coming up, I would suggest “The shapes a bright container can contain” by litbynosun.

It’s a case fic about 16k words long and set after canon. Whilst it’s not the main focus of the story it does delve slightly into chronic illness of wwx (the ailments of mxy’s body) and lwj (his continuous treatment of his scars) which might cover a few requests in the IITMF posts in future.

Thanks again for all the hard work you do! ~ @dulachodladh

the shapes a bright container can contain

by litbynosun

M, 17k, wangxian

Summary:  "Lan Zhan, look at this," Wei Wuxian calls. "They don't have organs, but they're all… fuzzy."

He gently strokes the corpse's arm -- it's covered in soft, pigmentless downy hair, like a rabbit. Lan Wangji crouches next to him and nods. "Lanugo," he says. Wei Wuxian raises one eyebrow. "They were malnourished for quite a while before death," Lan Wangji elaborates. Wei Wuxian scans the bodies again. Indeed, they both have sunken cheeks, and their abdomens are empty of both organs and fat padding. “That’s a question,” he says. “Did they starve to death, and have their bodies desecrated after they were already deceased? Or were they murdered, and simply starving at the same time?” "We should stay," Lan Wangji tells him. This is not an answer to his question. It is an offer to search for answers.

Or: Wei Wuxian and his family solve a ghost haunting. Wei Wuxain's old enemy, societal injustice, rears its head again.

[ssatoritendou]

Pretty But Deadly part i.

Pairing: Shigaraki/reader

tomura shigaraki 

Word count: 1k

+ summary: You were nearly mugged but you had a string quirk and insatiable quirk and Shigaraki took a liking to that. 

Genre: angsty 

Warning: 18+, suggestive themes 

"Kurogiri I'm going for a walk.” The decaying villain mumbled to his guardian. "Shigaraki do you think that is a smart idea? The police are-" He was going to start lecturing him again. Somehow he manages to forget who is in charge of the league. "I'll be fine. I need some air." Tomura growled at him. He left the bar with his hood up and a pair of sunglasses. He often wanders around the city. In his mind this city, the world was filthy. People walking around with these fake smiles believing that they were safe all because All Might is always there. But heroes are never there. Not when it's important. "Hey, pretty lady why don't you hand us over your purse?" "Yeah then maybe we will take you out afterward." "Get away from me you creeps." You said. But they kept approaching you. Shigaraki watched this interaction between you and the muggers harassing you. He just rolled his eyes. "She is just getting what she deserves." He huffed moving alongside the street. He only walked a few feet until he saw you next to him. You were wiping your face of blood. 'What hell type of quirk could this girl have?' He waited until the two of you were near an alleyway before he pulled you into the alley. "Oh, another one you guys. I'm full I can't eat anymore. You don't even look good." You whined. "Shut up!” He said with anger in his voice. “I watched you before you were being attacked by three men and look at you. Not a scratch on you. Yet." He had your neck in his hands with his pinky finger up. "Watched me? Listen I know who you are and I'm not interested. I didn't mean to kill all those guys and the others. I just get so hungry." "Hungry?" He asked confused. "Yes. Please let me go." "No, you are coming with me. You struggle I kill you." You hesitantly nodded. He dragged you back to the safety bar.

"If it isn't Mr. Handyman," Dabi said. "Oh, and he brought a girl home. Is she blinded?" "Quiet you. You have heard the story about the person killing all those low-life criminals." "Yeah, I'm not sure if I want them on our team or kill them for killing some of my friends." "Well, this is the culprit." You watched the villain wander to the bar top and the warp-man poured him a drink. "Make yourself at home and tell them what your quirk is." He said to you. "Thank you I guess. I'm ____ and I'm basically a vampire. Nothing special I'm like always hungry." "Do you like the hero killer?" Dabi asked you. "Hell no. He's was an attention seeker like All Might. Can't they do their things with a low profile?" Dabi started to get up with flames in his hands. "Sit the hell down Dabi. She is allowed to have her own opinions.” Shigaraki said. "You would make a nice snack." You said to Dabi. "You smell familiar. Your blood at else. I know who you are." "Crazy you don't know anything." "Really. Did you use that same attitude with Endeavor?" "Endeavor?" "You don't know who he is, Shigaraki? He's Endeavor's eldest son. You have a hero's son for a right-hand man." "Doesn't change my ideas. I hate heroes. My father abused my family." "Yeah figured that. I have seen little Todoroki's face huge ass burn. Your burns too I'm guessing." You said trying to further piss him off. "____ come with me I'll get you some clothes and you can shower," Shigaraki said to you. He guided you to his room. "You like video games?" "Here are some clothes the shower is in there. Clean yourself up. You won't be going home. This is your home now." You let those words settle into your head. 'Why does he want me?' You let the water wash away your worry. Because the worrying turned into hunger. You were hungry. Then you smelt something. Something so familiar. You put a towel around your waist. You looked out from the bathroom door, you watched Shigaraki scratching his neck angrily. With blood slip down his neck. "S-Shigaraki, c-can you please stop doing that?" "What?" "You are bleeding and I'm hungry again. It is really good." He turned to look at you. You felt your teeth turn into fangs. "Come here." He rasped out. You followed his orders and came over he patted his lap. You sat down. You watched the blood trickle down his neck. All you wanted to do was stick your fangs into him and drink his beautifully smelling blood. Shigaraki looked at you, your eyes fully dilated and fixated on his neck. “Do you really want my blood? You can't lose control. And if you take my blood that means you can't feed on anyone else." "Please Shigaraki-" "You can call me Tenko." "Tenko I really need it." "Did you not hear me?" "Fine, I promise but please I want it. I need it. I need you." You whined needily. "That's all I need to hear. You can have some." Before he could finish his sentence you were diving into the cut he created. He tasted so good. Sweet but bitter. He was moaning. He was enjoying it he liked the pain. You pulled away and licked at the wholes you had created. "Good girl." You liked that he called you that your thighs clenched your thighs together. You wanted to be his submissive good girl. “Why did you bring me here?" "You seemed interesting. I mean a pretty little thing like you took out 3 men all by yourself. You seemed valuable to my cause." "I'm just your pawn." You looked down. "Does it matter? Why get caught up in details." He rasped out. "But get one thing straight you are mine. I'm your blood supply in return you are mine." He gripped your side tightly. The towel disintegrated with his touch. You put your arms around your chest and closed your legs. He pulled a shirt from his draw. "Put this on and take a nap. I'll have Kurogiri buy you some things." "I thought your name was Tomura?" "I was adopted my real name is Tenko. Sleep now." "Please don't scratch your neck because then I'll get hungry again and probably lose control." He scoffed and continued to look at his computer. 'I'm just his plaything. But that didn’t seem all that bad.’

[jaskierswolf]

Okay, here is my prompt: Lambert and Dandelion, that’s it 😂 a scene where they meet, somehow have to interact, maybe work together for something? Can be sexy or not, as you like!! I just love your Lambert and your Dandelion and want to see them together 💜💜💜

So this sort of grew out of control. Under 1k they say. *angry writer noises* I have no self control when it comes to Book!Dandelion.

Have some chaotic Lambert and Dandelion on a mission to rescue Geralt! Also on my AO3 _________________

Dandelion stuck his tongue out as he wrapped his hair around the hot metal rod in his hands. He was very careful to keep hold of the specially enchanted wooden handle so he wouldn’t burn his hands but even still it was a difficult process, one that his beloved witcher just wouldn’t understand. He frowned as he watched his hair intently making sure that it didn’t start to smoke. He really hated it when it started to smoke, it made him start to panic. His hair was his pride and joy.

Fuck it, he really needed to ask Yennefer for some kind of enchantment or potion to help in curl his hair without all this nonsense.

He sighed dramatically as he pulled the tong from his hair and the golden lock bounced free in a perfect curl. He beamed and mentally patted himself on the back. He had not spent hours practicing his technique to have subpar curls. He was Master Dandelion, renowned troubadour. He simply could not look anything less than his best. He tilted his head as he placed the tongs back over the fire. One curl down, many to go. It was a hard life being beautiful.

He grabbed his notebook and quill whilst he waited for the tongs to heat back up. Geralt was out on a hunt with Lambert so he would have twice the witcher to compose about when they finally returned. He needed to started working on his rhymes for bruxa.

They couldn’t have made it easier for him could they…

He sighed again, narrowly avoiding wiping black ink over his cheek, an unfortunate occupational risk, but one he would take over monsters any day of the month. He hummed to himself by the light of the candle as he switched between hair curling and composing until the door was thrown open by a very frantic witcher.

“Dandelion!” Lambert yelled as he barrelled into the room.

Dandelion jumped and almost scorched his ear with the tongs. “Bloody hell, Lambert!” He snapped at the witcher. “Didn’t Vesemir ever teach you to knock?”

Lambert ignored him, as always. The bloody witchers never paid him any attention unless they were demanding that he perform for them like some blasted dancing monkey. “It’s Geralt.”

Dandelion’s dropped the tongs and they clattered to the floor. He was lost for words momentarily as he tried to understand what Lambert was implying. “Geralt?”

“Yes, poet.” Lambert snapped. “Now come on! Before the fuckers kill him!”

Dandelion’s eyes went wide. “Kill him!?” He cried. “What the blazes do you mean, kill him?! I thought you were hunting a bruxa not a higher vampire!”

Lambert rolled his eyes and snarled. “Move, Dandelion!”

Dandelion was shoved roughly out of the door. He barely had time to grab his lilac hat and he was forced to leave his precious lute in his room. He whined miserably as Lambert slammed the door and yanked him down the stairs and out the tavern. He wouldn’t have minded but how was he supposed help Geralt if Lambert couldn’t? He was only a poet!

“Would you please explain to me what’s going on?” He demanded as he was dragged towards the alderman’s house. He tore his wrist from Lambert’s grasp and glared fiercely down at the witcher. “I am not a child, you prick!” He snapped, using Geralt’s favourite nickname for the grumpy witcher. “I can walk on my own.”

“The fucker double-crossed us. His guards managed to get the drop on Geralt but they weren’t ready for two of us.” Lambert muttered as he stalked ahead.

Dandelion gripped onto his hat and trotted to keep up with Lambert’s marching. “They won’t really kill him, will they?” He asked.

Lambert scoffed. “You know better than that, Dandelion. Fucking humans. Monsters, the lot of them. I don’t know why we bother to protect them.”

Dandelion raised an eyebrow at the sullen witcher. “We aren’t all bad.” He muttered. “So what’s the plan, my dear?”

“They want money.”

“That’s hardly a plan.” Dandelion scoffed. “Even my plans are better than that.”

Lambert growled and threw his hands in the air. “You, Viscount Julian, have money. They need money. Plan.”

Dandelion’s heart sank as he realised Lambert’s mistake. “Ah.”

He gripped onto Lambert’s arm and pulled him to a stop. Like Geralt, Lambert was more than capable of ignoring Dandelion’s attempts to move him but, like Geralt, the other witchers of Kaer Morhen had become used to Dandelion’s weaker strength. Lambert crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared up at him. The height difference between them never failed to make Dandelion laugh, well usually, in that moment he was more focussed on finding his partner. They had stopped just outside of the alderman’s home and Lambert was clearly losing his patience as his foot began to tap on the dirt road.

“Ah. What do you mean ‘ah’? And none of your rhymes, poet. I don’t have time for riddles.”

Dandelion sighed and pulled nervously at one of his freshly made curls. “I don’t exactly have access to the funds we need.”

“What?”

“Well I’ve not been back to Lettenhove for years!” He pouted and put his hands on his hips. “I’m afraid I’ve rather been cut off.”

Lambert yelled wordlessly and ran a hand through his hair. “Do they know?” He asked, pointing at the door.

“Well, no.” Dandelion admitted as he chewed on his bottom lip, a terrible habit but one that brought him great comfort.

“Can you act the part?”

Dandelion nodded. “Of course I can.” He snapped with indignation. “One doesn’t escape one’s birth.” He muttered and then added more quietly. “No matter how much one might try.”

“Then get in there and fucking sort it out.” Lambert growled as he opened the door with far more strength than necessary and Dandelion was thrown inside.

He stumbled and grabbed hold of his hat as he was pushed through the doorway. He turned to glare at Lambert but the door was slammed in his face. He sighed and spun round to face the occupants of the room with his most dazzling smile. “Gentlemen!” He gave a low bow as he surreptitiously looked around for any sign of his silver haired witcher. He barely concealed a frown when he released that Geralt was nowhere to be seen. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“You’re that poet.” One of the burly brutish man pointed out.

“Ah, yes. You’ve heard of me?” Dandelion preened a little before remembering why he was there. “But I’ve not come here as the troubadour you know and love.”

“You’re shit.” A second thug said.

Dandelion gaped and put his hands on his hips. “I beg your pardon!”

“I think he’s pretty good.” The first one argued.

“Thank you!”

The second one shook his head. “Nah. He’s shit.”

“You sir!” He pointed at the man. “Are rude!”

“Hey!” Dandelion was suddenly thrown against the wall much to his surprise. The brute moved deceptively quickly and Dandelion hadn’t had the time to duck out of the way. “You don’t get to say that.”

“My mistake, a misunderstanding. I’m sure.” He stammered as he hat fell from his head. “Lambert!” He called. “Get your prickly arse in here. I know you can hear me!”

The door flung open once more to reveal Lambert, in all his grumpy glory. Dandelion had never been so pleased to see him. Lambert had his sword in one hand, he spun it with a flick of his wrist as he rolled his eyes. “You had one job, poet.”

“Just do something!” Dandelion whined.

“Right!” Lambert strolled into the centre of the room, pointing his sword at each of the men, one by one. They looked at the very least confused by the turn of events. Dandelion saw one of them reach for his own blade but Lambert was quicker. He’d bounded across the room in a blur and flicked the tip of his sword against the man’s throat, lifting his chin with the blade. “Let the poet go.”

Dandelion could have swooned. He’d never taken Lambert for the heroic sort before. If Geralt didn’t survive this then perhaps he would attempt to woo a different witcher instead. Dandelion was dropped to the floor and he cursed as he knees cracked against the hard stone.

“Where’s Geralt?” Lambert growled. “I really don’t want to kill you. It’s messy and unnecessary. So you give us Geralt, and the coin you owe us and we’ll get out of here.”

“You couldn’t have just done this in the first place.” Dandelion scoffed as he scrambled to his feet and brushed off his clothes. There was a tear in one of the knees and he groaned. He loved this outfit. It was still fairly new and he’d taken great care not to wear it when following Geralt on any of his hunts.

“Viscount Julian de Lettenhove here was going to pay your ransom, but now you’ll be lucky to escape with your lives.” Lambert snarled at the alderman. “Geralt. Now!”

The alderman stammered and gave the order to release Geralt. Dandelion held his breath until he saw his witcher stride into the room. He was carrying his swords in one hand, both sheathed and in their leather holder, and his hair was loose and matted. Dandelion  beamed and ran at Geralt. Geralt smirked but caught him in his arms and lifted him from the floor.

“Geralt!” He buried his face in Geralt’s neck. “Lambert said they were going to kill you.”

Geralt chuckled and lowered him to the floor, brushing his curls from off his face. “I’m fine, Dandelion. Did they hurt you?”

He shook his head. “Only my pride.”

“Oi! Lovebirds. Can you not do that now?” Lambert groaned. “Let’s get out of here. I’m fucking starving!”

Dandelion laughed and kissed Geralt’s cheek before linking their fingers together. “Come on then, my dear. Time to go.”

“Time to go.” Geralt agreed as he brushed his lips against Dandelion’s temple. On the way to the door Geralt leant down to swipe Dandelion’s hat from the floor. Geralt placed it carefully on top of Dandelion’s head with a fond smile. “That’s better.”

Dandelion laughed and leant into Geralt’s side. “Thank you, my darling.” _____________

Tag list: @abluescarfonwaston @artistsfuneral @slythnerd @moonysourenza @victorieschild @hailhailsatan

[lunarnirvana]

Beach Baby

꧁☮︎︎☽𓁹☾☮︎︎꧂

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Please not read if these subjects upset or trigger you in any way. Heavy themes are often present in my writing.

𓁹 Anxiety symptoms, fighting, cursing, angry/rude Reid 𓁹

Prompt: None

Summery: This is based off of Beach Baby by Bon Iver because I love that song more than myself. Reader and Reid get into a fight so Reader goes to the beach to calm down.

Category: Angst with fluff/comfort at the end??

Word Count: 1k

Paring: Spencer Reid X Reader

A/N: I love this song and all I can think of when I listen to it is when I’m upset and I walk down to the beach while it’s foggy right before it rains so I’m excited about this one ahh hope you enjoy. also sorry for angry Reid/so much angst I promise to write fluff soon

“All the clouds in me are raining,” - R.h. Sin

Never mind the alluring frigidity of the landscape wrought before me in the luster of morning dew. The sky was pale and blanketed with a hazy shroud of cloud cover, concealing the sun’s brilliance. Fog hung low against the ashy dunes and as I walked toward the ocean I felt the sand become firmer under my step. Each footprint sank deep into the dampening earth and I could hear the sloshing of the ocean.

The sound beckoned me toward the sharp daggers of the mavericks. Each wave break, each peaking tide that stabbed the horizon and made the once linear display jagged and discouraging. The sky was grey. Everything was a grey, pale sloom.

How did I get here?

I stood there against the stillness of the beach like a chip in the paint of a white wall. I was a black speck of pepper in a pile of stark salt. My mind felt completely detached from my body and I was suddenly floating on the sea. The wind carried small particles of sand that stung the exposed skin on my body. I was cold.

I wanted desperately to cry, to scream, and so I did. I released all the air in my chest and pushed the waves back with the force of my cry.

With everything in my body expelled by my sobbing wail I collapsed in on myself. A dying star crumbling into nothingness. My hands latched onto my arms and I sat on my heels, just holding myself together by my weak grip.

I couldn’t help but recount what he had said to me. It was destructive and torturous to remember but I still replayed it in my mind until I was numbed by the memory.

𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹

Spencer threw his satchel on the recliner as he walked into our apartment, slamming the door behind him. It startled me off of the couch, my legs pathetically kicking the blanket from entangling my limbs in the knitted fabric. I looked at Spencer, tugging my face into a frown at the sight of him.

Frustration would have been a relief. He was fuming, His hair fell in his countenance and disrupting any aspect remaining of him. He blew out an exasperated breath as he pushed his hair back but his attempt was only met with more strands obstructing his view. I waited for him to apologize for the ruckus, to envelope me in a hug and kiss me and tell me what was bothering him.

It never came. He began to walk into our room wordlessly but my voice stopped him in his tracks. “Spence?” I asked, almost too timidly for being the one expecting an apology. He turned around begrudgingly, leaning against the wall as if to say ‘I guess this is going to take a while’. As if greeting me was a burden.

“Yes?” He spat the response.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I asked, standing to meet him. If he wasn’t going to hug me I assumed I’d have to go to him. He stepped back slightly as I approached and I felt something in my gut twist.

“Yeah, a lot is wrong. You called me, what, six times while I was on the case? When I’m at work I need to be focused on saving lives. Not what kind of food you plan on making for dinner,” It was a completely unprovoked defense but I knew it wasn’t what was actually bothering him.

“You were gone for two weeks, Spencer, I’d say six calls is justifiable considering we’re in a relationship,” I didn’t want it to sound as antagonistic as it did. I tried to soften the blow, “What’s really bothering you?”

“What’s really—“ he cut himself off, looking almost baffled at the question, “What, do you think you’re a profiler now? I’m mad because you’re being clingy, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” I didn’t bother trying to sugarcoat my wordspeak. He was just being irrational at this point.

“Did I fucking stutter?” He retorted.

I let my mouth hang open at his curt dictum before resorting to blatant reprimand. “You need to leave,” I said finally. I felt something hot prick at my eyes and only realized I was crying when I felt the rolling water flowing down my cheeks. The tears pooled in the creases of my mouth and all I could taste was salt and disappointment.

“I need to what?” He asked, dumbfounded that I would even suggest kicking him out. His face softened when he noticed I was crying but not enough to stop the endless flow.

“Did I fucking stutter?” I mimicked his reply.

He wasted no time towering over me, losing any remorse when I changed my tone to a much more aggressive one. It wasn’t a conversation anymore, it was a challenge. Spencer never backed down from the opportunity to debate someone into the dirt. What he didn’t seem to realize was, I didn’t see it as a debate.

It was a fight. And likely the worst one we’d had. His behavior stunned me into matching his seemingly blind rage.

“You’re seriously kicking me out after the week I just had? Do you realize how important my work is?” His voice raised a decibel each word he uttered.

“And mine isn’t?”

“I didn’t say that—“

“You implied it.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Y/N. Stop being manipulative,” he didn’t hold back anymore. I seemed to only fuel his anger.

“How am I being manipulative when you’re the one attacking me?”

“Attacking and manipulating are two completely different words with completely different meanings. Do I need to get you a fucking dictionary?”

“Stop treating me like I’m an idiot, Spencer!” I was screaming now. Composure wasn’t my strongest suit but the more we argued the worse my breathing rhythm got. My chest felt constricted as I began violently sobbing. I was choking on snot and mucus and trying hard to muffle my cries against the palm of my hand but they still broke through between my fingers.

“Listen, I’ve had a really shitty case and I need to get some sleep,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So that’s what this is all about? A bad case?” I finally managed to say.

“Yes! Of course it is! How are you that clueless that you couldn’t see that?” He was yelling just as loudly now, his voice booming over mine. His words shrunk my demeanor into a shaking insect. I felt my breath hitch finally, having expected this reaction from such an aggressive interaction.

“I—I can’t be here right now. I have to go,” I suddenly breathed out and grabbed my coat from the hook beside the front door. Feeling the wool fabric in my hands was the only thing that brought me comfort. Something that was supposed to be Spencer’s job.

I didn’t hear any protest but I was sure there would be. No matter how mad Spencer got at me he’d never let me drive in such a condition but regardless, I did.

After running two red lights on my way there, I was finally standing barefoot in the cold sand. It was teetering on springtime but the crisp residual chill of winter still stained the temperature.

I buried my face in my palms and continued to weep, softer now that I expelled any volatile emotion from my fragile being.

I felt something warm snake around my waist and shrieked in surprise, thrashing back at the assailant. I was suddenly pulled tightly into someone’s chest, suddenly on my feet. Spencer swayed back and forth as he enveloped me in his bliss. I felt his lips connect to my temple as he graciously kissed the surface.

“I’m sorry. Oh god, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled the words against my face, refusing to disconnect his face from mine.

“Why the fuck would you say any of that to me? You—you can’t treat me like this every time you have a bad case,” I managed to blubber the words out. As the expression flowed endlessly from my mouth I felt him tighten his grip on my frame.

“I know, I know. I’m an idiot and I screwed up. I’m so sorry,” his voice was cracking and he swallowed to try and clear his throat to no avail. Then I felt his chest heaving against my back and realized he was crying himself.

I tried to pull away but he latched onto me. “Spence let me go.”

“Not until you’re breathing slows down,” he said and I realized I’d been hyperventilating since he arrived. As he held me and made me realize I was, I began to try and correct the rhythm.

Finally, I managed to calm down in his embrace. Once I did he spun me around to face me but didn’t let go of my waist. He never lifted his hands from me, only slid them across my body to new locations. He was afraid I’d run away again.

“I know I can’t take back what I said. I know I made a mistake and it’s going to scar us for life but I will do anything to make it up to you. I love you, Y/N. I can’t live with myself knowing I hurt you like this,” He was pleading while he leaned down to meet his forehead to mine, “Please forgive me. I don’t deserve it but I can’t imagine being without you. I know this isn’t going to be easy to bounce back from but I want to try if you’re willing to do the same.”

I blinked in the pasty light and watched his eyebrows furrow, his tear stained skin now speckled with sand that had blown against it. I reached my hand up hesitantly but the feeling of my palm against his veneer was overwhelmingly consoling. He leaned into my touch before cupping my own hand with his.

“I forgive you,” I said softly.

“We’re gonna work on this. I’m gonna work on this, I promise you, love.”

I attached my other hand to the opposite side of his face and pulled him down to my lips. He kissed me like I had left him for good and he finally found me at the end of his journey. He ravished my waist and back and body with his hands as he did before he pulled away. He began freckling my face with pecks before making his way across my jawline and down my neck.

“Spence?” I asked softly. I didn’t want to interrupt the moment but curiosity overtook the pleasure.

“Yes, darling?” He asked as he pulled away and searched my expression for vacillation.

“How’d you know where I would be?”

“You always come here when you’re upset. Come on, it’s freezing out. Let’s get you home,” his hand fell behind me on the small of my back as he guided me to his car. I relished in the heat of his body, leaning my head against his shoulder as we walked.

[fukurodanni]

everything stays (but it still changes)

part 1 || PART 2 || part 3

pairing: tsukishima kei x photographer!reader summary: sometimes the man that broke your heart 3 years ago asks you out on an almost-date and sometimes you say yes despite your almost-attraction to him. sometimes it’s okay to go anyway. word count: 1k note: tbh this is a one shot but i thought it’d be better to split it (posted at the same time for ur convenience)

I wonder about you.

The memories come tumbling back against your will, flickering at the edges of your mind from corners you don’t remember carving. It makes you nostalgic in the most morbid sort of way and settles on your tongue with a strange bitterness. And, god, you’re hoping none of it shows on your face.

Except it must, because his car has been parked there and you really don’t remember seeing him pull in. How long have you been staring off into oblivion?

You show up the same time as yesterday, hoping he understands the message. You realize, now, you probably should have asked for his number, too. Maybe he still uses the same one.

Tsukishima dresses as you usually see him, sans airpods, and doesn’t seem to notice you until you cough gently.

“Morning,” he says. It’s four in the afternoon. He’s holding two cups and hands one to you, wordlessly. It smells like lemon tea and you’re going to ask how he knows your order but the words die on your tongue so you end up thanking him instead.

“Did you have anything planned, or is this as far as you got?” you ask, teasing.

“I can plan,” he says ambiguously, and sits at the nearest table. “I don't know how much planning a conversation would require.”

You glance at Tsukishima before taking a seat across from him. His hands are wrapped around his own coffee cup, finger lightly tapping the side. His nails look manicured.

“Okay, then,” you finally meet his eyes then, and nearly lose your breath. “talk.”

And he does. You both do, really, and it’s all sort of strange because you can see how he's changed - the way he sounds so much more sure of himself and infinitely more confident. It’s kind of hot, except you're afraid if you think about it any longer you might dunk your face into the nearest trash can.

He asks how you are, asks after your family and friends and job. When you ask the same he responds in turn: he’s well, his family is alright and he's made some new friends as well as having kept in touch with Tadashi (he’s doing fine, too). He works in advertising but doesn’t really bother to tell you anything besides, which you aren't very upset about.

When you finish your drinks, you ask if he’d like to walk at the park nearby, just for a change in scene. It’s so easy to fall in step with him, to talk and smile and laugh like your last interaction wasn’t the absolute trainwreck that it was. Instead, you catch fleeting glimpses of the person who used to be your best friend: he is kind and reserved but his voice carries a new and weathered weight to it.

It occurs to you, a dim and flickering lightbulb, that maybe you’re still a little attracted to him. It’s not as much of an alarming thought as you’d expected, so you shove it down in favor of asking how he’s been the past few years. When he looks at you his gaze is unreserved - you remember him like the night, quiet and restless and cold - but for a brief, shining moment it looks as if he carries suns in his eyes. It’s hard to look away.

“I’ve been good,” he says, and you really, truly believe him.

You smile back, suddenly shy. Your head dips down for a moment but then he tells you that he’s taken up tutoring and you look at him, searching for any hint of disdain.

You only find fondness, genuine and faraway. Huh.

“It’s not like they’re high school brats or anything,” he explains. “They’re all competent. Mostly.”

“Oh yeah? What are they like?”

He stops to think for a moment. “Easy,” he says, and then as if to elaborate, “Easy to teach.”

You nod, and a smile tugs at your lips as a memory resurfaces. “Yeah, but I think any student is easier than Hinata and them,” you joke, looking back at him.

It seems to spark a fond memory for him too, because then Tsukishima laughs shortly and it’s like your entire body has imploded in fireworks.

A little, childish part of you wants to reminisce in high school memories for the rest of this pseudo-date - sidestepping the obvious tension with nostalgia seems so much easier and something in you wants to keep waltzing around it because each of his steps match yours and you’re afraid to trip over him. That, and you think everything would seem so much easier if only you could make him laugh like that again.

It goes so well that you’re almost expecting something to go wrong. (It does, naturally).

You catch him looking at you again, and your breath stops. It isn’t the first time you’ve caught it, but it’s the first time that he’s let it linger. It’s familiar and weary and fond, an old feeling founded upon uncertainty but unashamedly true.

Maybe he leans in first or maybe you do, but it’s all so blurry that he’s about an inch from your face before anything actually processes. He doesn’t move, not for a second, eyes aglow and asking, searching for permission.

It’s like a memory hitting you square in the face, deja vu for the briefest of moments before it's completely engulfed in searing nausea. You shake your head limply and begin to pull away. His mouth opens, the beginnings of a sentence cut off before he can finish his breath.

“I can’t do this again,” you whisper, delicate. Your voice comes out broken and resigned and you’re already thinking about how to walk away from this. “I’m sorry.”

The space between you is thick and drowsy and it’s hard to pull away but it feels so cold when you do. It’s November chills and stilted arguments and the pinpricks of air through your lungs all over again.

You’re near enough to see that he nods stiffly but not quite far enough to see his face - not that you’d want to, anyway. The stuffy feeling in your chest makes you choke on any reply and numbs you to your fingertips as you leave him on the bench.

It haunts you during the drive home.

part 1 || PART 2 || part 3

[makeste]

Bnha is a little too irregular for me right now (covid is the worst :( ), so I started reading One Piece and it's like, soooo long. Got me thinking, how long do you think Bnha will be? Personally I think we're just before time skip and it will take, like 300-400 chapters to end? So manga would be 600-700 chapters long. I could be wrong of course. Thoughts?

One Piece is fucking awesome, and the beauty of it is that is is 12 million chapters long so it will take approximately 182 years to finish reading, and you are almost guaranteed to be entertained for the vast majority of that time lol. I actually took a break from it a little ways into the Wano arc (sometime in the middle of what would later become volume 92) because it was getting harder for me to keep up with the plot week by week, especially since I was really into BnHA fandom by that time. my plan was to binge it once Wano ends. however when I was looking at the list of chapters on Wikipedia just now I saw that Oda is only 11 chapters away from breaking the 1k mark, which is pretty awesome. so I might try to catch up in the next month or two in celebration of that milestone, because damn.

with BnHA though, my own guess for how long the series will be is actually a lot shorter than most estimates I’ve seen. first of all, full disclosure that I am definitely biased regarding the timeskip part, because I personally am not the biggest fan of BnHA timeskip theories, unless they’re really short timeskips like the 3-month one we got recently. the thing is, this is explicitly a manga about their time at UA. it’s in the title and everything lol. and I like that. I like reading about them as kids, little hero eggs gradually growing into little hero chicks who will eventually become big hero birbs, but not just yet. a lot of the story’s appeal for me comes from that. there’s a certain... I don’t necessarily want to say innocence, but idealism, maybe?, that’s associated with stories about young adults, and doesn’t always carry over into the stories about those same adults once they’ve grown up. and I want the story to keep that.

there are a lot of things about the current setting that I’m very attached to and don’t want to lose. I like that they’re kids, and that they’re full of potential but don’t always know what they’re doing, and they screw up and make mistakes and get in over their heads, and are dealing with all of their messy jumbled teenage emotions. I like that they’re living with each other in the fanfic dorms and seeing each other every day in their classes. I like that romance isn’t a big part of the series (though there’s still plenty of shipping fuel to go around). I like that we get to see them interacting with their parents and siblings and get to see those relationships. and most of all, I like that -- unlike almost every other young adult series I can think of -- BnHA acknowledges that they are just kids, and the adults by and large actually treat them as such. and yes, I’m even including the child soldiers arc here, because the decision to basically draft them into a war was handed down by the HPSC (an organization that likely has a history with child abuse from what we’ve seen). U.A. was against it, and tried their best to keep them away from the front lines, chilling out in the woods and helping with evacuations instead of fighting villains. contrast this with, say, a:tla, which I love, but which is very much one of those series filled with full-grown adults who are all “it’s up to this 12-year-old and his assorted 12-to-15-year-old friends to lead the battle to save the world lulz.” and this includes possibly the most beloved full-grown adult of all time, who nonetheless peaces out with an ironclad argument of “while it is true that the final villain is my actual brother, I’m still going to let the 12-year-old handle it because something something politics slash destiny.”

but anyways lol got sidetracked there. so steering this back on course now, I genuinely, truly love that in BnHA there are all these adults in the characters’ lives who are trying to keep them safe and nurture them and shield them from that extra burden of responsibility for as long as possible while they’re still learning. and so the kids have that extra safety net of support, which to me as a reader is just... comforting, I guess. like, I understand that it’s not going to last forever, but it’s reassuring to know that it exists for them for now. and I’m not in any hurry to say goodbye to that in favor of just tossing them out into tHE REAL WORLD!! lol. like omg no my babies.

anyway but so the point is that, with respect to everyone else’s theories, I personally don’t want a timeskip lol. and tbh I don’t really see the need for one either? if anything, we’re about to enter the most chaotic period in the entire manga once this arc ends. I’m assuming Tomura will survive this and escape somehow, the better to live and fight another day. and so if that’s the case, I feel like this would be the absolute weirdest time to do a timeskip, because how far ahead can we even jump lol. too far and we’d basically be coming back to an already-destroyed world lol whoops. basically I just don’t see how we can jump ahead more than a few months at the most, assuming that the threat of Tomura is going to be looming over everyone’s heads the entire time. plus we’d miss out on what I’m betting is going to be some of the most intense worldbuilding drama in the entire series, with our beloved characters potentially being swept up in like half a dozen political controversies. I sure don’t want to miss out on any of that. we didn’t wait so long to see this war play out only to skip out on the highly entertaining aftermath of it all.

anyway so that’s my as-usual-longer-than-necessary rant about timeskips. so now let’s talk about the series length. and here, I’m basically just basing my guess off of what Horikoshi has said in interviews. off the top of my head, there are three times he’s mentioned the ending of the series in interviews. first, there’s this interview, published in July 2018:

Interviewer: Previously in SUGOI JAPAN*, you mentioned that you would like Boku No Hero Academia to be a short and concise story and not drawn out, but what percentage of the story is complete at this point?

Horikoshi: When the decision to extend the series happened, I personally thought “I guess I want to end it here” and it was around Volume 30.

Interviewer: So then are you 2/3 done with the story?

Horikoshi: That’s what I had originally planned, but when I think of all the things that must be set up before getting into the last arc, I realized, “Ending the series at Volume 30 will be impossible” (laughs). However, the current arc that is going on all has purpose that will be relevant in the last arc.

*this is referencing a remark he made back at an awards ceremony back in March 2017.

second, we have this interview from August 2018, where he again mentions wanting to keep the story concise:

Do you know what the ending of My Hero Academia is? Do you think it'll be 80+ volumes like One Piece?

No, it won't be infinite – I don't have the stamina for it to be as long as One Piece. I'd like to keep it concise.

and lastly,  this one which was published in December 2019:

What can you say about the future events of the manga?

I’m conscious of the end of the series, and writing towards that. I think the story will always be moving in big ways going forwards. My Hero Academia has a lot of characters, a lot of characters doing different things with different motivations, and the story is heading towards a conclusion where all of that comes together and heads towards the end.

my takeaways from these interviews are that (1) he originally planned for the story to be about 300 chapters long, (2) he’s had a clear idea of his overall endgame for a while now and has been steadily working towards that (as he put it in another interview, he knows all of the dots, but is still figuring out the lines to connect them all), and (3) he specifically said a couple years back that he did not want to write a long One Piece-length series, and his goal was to write a more concise story than that. Horikoshi’s pacing has always been much faster than Oda’s (or Kishimoto’s, or Kubo’s, etc.), and so I think it’s a realistic goal for him to wind up with a significantly shorter story in comparison.

my best guess is that BnHA won’t be much longer than 400 chapters, or a little over 40 volumes. he said back around chapter 180-something that he was nowhere close to being two-thirds of the way done. but it’s been two years since then, and if we haven’t reached at least the two-thirds mark by this point, I would honestly be very surprised. it would mean we’ve barely made any progress at all, and I don’t know about you, but the past few arcs have felt very purpose-driven to me. I think he has a pretty good idea of where he’s heading at this point, and that to me supports the idea of a shorter story than a lot of people have speculated. mind you, he might end up doing a sequel or something afterwards (although I kind of cringe thinking about all the ways we’ve seen that kind of thing go wrong in the past, ngl).

but as far as the series proper, yeah, I’d say 400 chapters is my best guess. ultimately I just hope he’s able to tell the story he wants to tell and gets as much time as he needs to do so, without feeling any pressure to then drag it on past that. knowing when to end your series is so underrated honestly. I have my fingers crossed that it’s a skill Horikoshi hopefully possesses.

[brownstudyk]

Anon Request: “57 and 59 with Wooyoung”

Prompt #: 57- “Get your hand out your pants.”

59- “Now just move your lips like this..”

Word Count: (I don’t think I usually put this, but since it’s my first time posting this much) 1.2k

Warning(s): Nope. Foreshadowing friends-to-lovers, pretty fluffy(?), just a kith, maybe suggestive at some part? Depends how much you linger on it

A/n: I don’t know how I feel about this. Kind of good, kind of mmmmmno. I try to so hard to write quick blurbs, but they never feel like they’re good enough, and I then end up typing 1k words..

Let me know what you think!!

~

Your friendship with Wooyoung had always been one that used all your energy and time, and sanity, but in the finest way imaginable. He was your best friend whom you have defended, fought, comforted, relied on, and now support through his dreams.

To Wooyoung you were the girl who he’d always been one to subconsciously look for, even before becoming friends. (Yes, the first meeting of the two of you was premeditated, little did you know, but he’d probably accidentally admit it one day when he was really drunk). You were his greatest motivation and the funniest person he knew, but long before any of that, you were in fact, his crush.

It wasn’t too hard though, being your friend while simultaneously having feelings for you. He told himself a long time ago, he would willingly take however much time was needed and go at your pace, not wanting to intimidate you with his selfish feelings. He couldn’t lose you like that. He could spend ample time with you, and be able to treat you the way you should be treated with the way matters were now, so he wasn’t ready to risk it all just yet.

He’d always expected a day when you’d come to him, telling him of a cute boy, a crush or a boyfriend. Fortunately for him, he’d never heard such talk from you. Maybe “ooo”ing and “ahh”ing at a man in a movie, or every blue moon while you wander around together at the mall or in the street somewhere, but that was nothing too extreme. He too knows a handsome man when he sees one.

It’d be a surprise to him though to find that you had actually encountered people who had caught your eye, or asked you for your number or to go out somewhere, but you’d always catch yourself listening to a little voice in your head telling you not to get too ahead of yourself and ended up overthinking every interaction. Of course, sometimes, there would be an exchange of numbers, but dates? Not likely.

You could never truly find the reason for your preferred lack of romantic feelings with people you’ve met. Never knowing the finishing words to the sentence: “What about ____________?”

It’s not that you didn’t have feelings for Wooyoung, you thought he was extremely talented and knew he was really romantic and captivating. And sexy. But you can think those things, he’s your best friend. You’re not blind, anyone can see he is physically blessed with a sharp jaw, soft cheeks, a killer smile, and bold, pretty eyes. To be honest, of course you found Wooyoung attractive, and of course you were in love with his big personality, but unfortunately for him you were a little..different. You were a little naive. A little clueless when it came to picking up on his motives, which you would and could see only as friendly. A little slow on picking up on the signs and clues Wooyoung has been throwing these past years. 

But no, Wooyoung wouldn’t like you anyway, right? And that means that you shouldn’t like him. 

Right?

The show playing on the TV and lighting up the room behind you finally comes off of commercial, and you zone back in to real time, sighing at the thought of seeing your him again. Quick to reach for your phone, you text Wooyoung, asking for his ETA.

To: Woo🤷‍♂️🙆‍♂️🙆‍♂️

Heyyy!! I thought practice ended at 6:30, im hung!!

Hungry!!*

Read 7:23pm

You lean back huffing, letting the couch cushions consume you, but shoot back up, being surprised by a rough thump on your front door followed by muffled curses. 

The voice? 

Wooyoung.

“YA! Open the door, my hands are full!”, his loud voice echoed down the hall while you scatter to open it, finding him out of breath and cheesing hard when the door opens to your apartment. 

He watches your face, amused and laughing while you scan him, eyes widening at the excessive amount of grocery bags hanging in his hands and down from his forearms. “Wooyoung!” You go to scold him, trying to reach for some bags, but he dodges you, waddling through the door to the place the bags on the table. “No no no no-I got it.” 

You turn back facing him in the kitchen after you locked the door, eyes widening seeing the scene in front of you, and you call him out, 

“Get your hand out your pants.”

He’s surprised at first, but laughs it off trying to explain how he was fixing his clothes after having ran down your “long ass hallway” to get here with eight bags in his hands.

“Yeah right, Woo. The bathroom’s that way,” you tease, pointing down the hall.

“Pfft, you wish, huh?” his loud laugh rings through the room while you pretend to swing a bag at him.

After hustling to situate everything for the movie, the two of you can finally sit, eat and relish in each other's long awaited company (as if you don’t see each other everyday and have a movie night once a week). “Sarah should really just steal him away and move to Cuba.” you shake your head in disapproval at the main characters. 

“And why would she do that? She doesn’t even know if he has feelings for her.”

“Okay, so she doesn’t know, but maybe her feelings are strong enough to extent that she should feel confident enough to act on them and deal with the consequences.” you shift to face him for the first time since the conversation started, finding him to be already looking at you.

“So you don’t think he’s going to make the first move?” he questions, motioning his head to the TV. “I’m just saying even if he doesn’t feel the same way, maybe she should- you know, do it for the hell of it.”

“I see where you’re coming from.” Wooyoung shrugged. Only then did you heed the decreasing proximity between the two of you in the past minute as he moved even closer to you, nodding his head, scanning your eyes for any sign of doubt, (making sure you weren’t actually still talking about the movie) and confirming that the two of you were on the same page.

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb running across your cheek, and soon Wooyoung’s going for it, leaning in, finally making his move for the first time in almost 5 years. This was a big one after all. Physically sure it was just a kiss, but in reality this was going to be a life-altering moment.

As his face approaches your senses increase tenfold; you’re able to smell the fruity fragrance of the gummies he’d been eating, and to feel the change in the air’s temperature as he nears. The distance is slowly closing and although you hadn’t at all planned for today to be the day (or any day at that), everything feels like it led up to this moment. Your heart is, understandably so, shaking out of your chest, but you’re nervous, what exactly do you expect before your first kiss.

Your first kiss..

You pull away, slightly frantic and out of breath from the nothing that has yet to happen. “Wooyoung.” You pull away pressing a halting hand on his chest, “I don’t know what I’m doing..” your eyes dart around the room avoiding his gaze.

“I’ve got you. Now-” his voice is a hoarse whisper, tongue peeking out for a second to lightly wet his lips, a habit you’re used to, but in the moment is not helping with your nerves. The inner battle with yourself is cut short however with the second attempt of Woo leaning into you.

“-just move your lips like this.”

[crazycookiemaniac]

Omg why are you losing so many followers youve been drawing gay shit for forever??? (Or maybe i as a gay was just interpreting it that way)

Because I literally spammed people every day for one week lmao. And also, a lot of people follow others for specific content. The moment I stop drawing that exact thing they followed me for, they unfollow me. There are also accounts that follow just to make you follow them & if you don’t, they unfollow you after a while. There’s people who followed me for haikyuu & weren’t interested in BC content, and there were people who followed me for BC content but got showered in gay art instead and that was not their cuppa tea. 

But mostly, i start appearing on people’s feed the more I post. So having me post incessantly for one week made me show up on feeds that I hadn’t shown up for  a good while, so there were probably people who forgot they had followed me in the first place & me posting was a reminder to unfollow.

Truthfully, follower counts are dumb. Yes, it is important for you to have a high follower count for you to get attention, but the amount of people actually following you if you don’t have a consistent art style & rarely ever post something with different vibes than your usual ones, is equal or less than 1% of your total amount of following.

My instagram tells me I have 43k. I do not have 43k people following me. I’ve had 43k that once saw my account & pressed the follow button, but their feeds are filled up with other people’s accs that interest them more than mine (as well as my own feed does not show all the content of the 200+ something people I follow, unless I scroll down till the depths of hell to find every single post on that day and then do so on the next day as well).

Essentially, 95% of your followers are there because of content. They want to see what entertains them. Most of them don’t care about the artist and don’t interact with them at all. Many of them are scared to, given the high follower count. Social media & big accounts make people forget that there are other, real, living & breathing people that are behind them all.

So, to many, I was just a random artist they found and “lol”ed at one of my comics & pressed follow without thinking about it. Most of them don’t go to my account and see all other art I’ve posted to see if they actually like what I do, or me as a person and as an artist at all.

People who don’t know this get really discouraged when they don’t earn a lot of followers, or when they lose a lot (like I did). And some people think you gotta have hundreds of thousands to be famous. I’ve seen accs going around that paid for ads, that had over 150k followers and less than 1k likes on their posts.

Truly famous, loved, growing and/or steady accounts have an amount of likes per post proportional to their follower count. For example, if someone has 150k followers, most of their posts will vary from 20k to 100k likes.

When I was growing my account because I hopped in the fandom bandwagon and stupid little me didn’t know that would only make me crash later, I had like 20~30k and some of my posts reached more than 20k likes (because people liked my stupid comics). Nowadays, I’m not part of the fandom that made me grow anymore. I’m part of a very underrated one (Black Clover), as well a I am drawing a very underrated ship (LuGna) that above all else is getting hated on. I have everything against me in this, so it’s no wonder I lost so many followers.

They didn’t wanna see gay art. They didn’t wanna see Black Clover. They didn’t even know what the fuck was going on. Not everyone paid attention or kept up with my warnings. Despite me explaining multiple times in multiple posts what the Thunder Flames project was about, a lot of people still didn’t know what I was doing that for.

The thing about being a big follower count is that, unless you’re actually loved for what you do (and to do that, once again, I need to emphasize that you need to keep a steady rhythm, a steady vibe, a steady you. Because people follow you for your first impression on them, and you gotta keep up to that first impression if you wanna keep your followers.

I’m unsteady. One look at my gallery and you’ll see how disorganized everything is. Oh, lookit, a 1 min speedpaint of a random drawing I did on an old piece of paper! And right on the left there’s a stupid random comic I did–on the right there’s this super detailed, shaded drawing I’ve done that actually looks terrible to me and I will 100% archive it later, and then there’s B&W mixed with gray shaded, flat colored and fully shaded characters of different fandoms + OCs from commissions and whatever else. 

The thing is, I made my follower count based on a fandom, and now that I’m not there most of that follower count does not have me on their feed. And most of them do not want me on their feed. Now, I’m trying to build a follower count for who I am as an artist, because the few people who have actually stayed and followed me throughout the years know how inconsistent I am in terms of art style, fandoms and everything else.

A solution to this would me either keep creating/posting the same thing all over again (just in different patterns), or creating original content (which I do plan on doing at some point). But for now? Since my follower count does absolutely not reflect on how many people actually like me and/or my art, I’m going to be as chaotic as fucking ever and do whatever the fuck I want.

So yes, I do find it comical that I lost 1k followers over this and am not fazed in the very least, especially because I literally foreshadowed losing 1k and hit the fucking jackpot.

The only reason I’m talking about this at all is because 1- it’s impossible not to notice my follower count decreasing, especially because every new 1k I thank people publicly through stories; 2- some people were actually worried I was upset over it and I have to 3- show that I am not, while simultaneously trying to show people that just because you’re losing followers doesn’t mean you have to stop doing what you want to create content to please people. It doesn’t mean you should be upset, and it doesn’t mean that what you’re doing is bad or wrong.

It means you’re fucking renewing your followers & you’ll now grow for what you’re trying to grow for, bitch. That’s what it’s all about.

Obviously, people do take a great risk doing this. I am taking a great risk doing this. I could’ve lost 5k, I could’ve lost 10k. But I only lost 1k! And that’s because I believe in the project I worked on; I knew there were people out there who enjoyed what I was doing and it’s on them that I was focused on. On the people who supported me AND my art, not just that one single funny comic post I did 3 years ago.

This answer is 100% a lot longer than what you could’ve possibly expected for and I am typing this while being awake for more than 24h so I’m sure that I’ve repeated myself a lot and that there are a lotta typos or w/e and I apologize for that!! But I’m too lazy to go back to read everything over & turn this into a neat post & I’m pretty sure I could answer your question in the first paragraph.

Oh and also. Yes. Yes I have been drawing gay shit ever since I’ve become an artist because I’m so fucking pissed at the lack of canon gay content in a way that it’s depicted as a normal fucking romantic couple instead of having eeeeeeeeveryone point their finger to the gay couple and scream “HEY THAT’S GAY!!! THIS CAN’T BE PART OF THIS VERY HETEROSEXUAL SHOW WHERE EVERYONE IS OBVIOUSLY HETEROSEXUAL EVEN THOUGH NONE OF THE CHARACTERS HAVE EVER SAID THAT EXPLICITLY BECAUSE WE KNOW THAT THE CREATORS ARE EITHER HETEROSEXUAL OR TOO AFRAID TO LOSE AUDIENCE IF THEY TREAT GAY PEOPLE AS NORMAL PEOPLE!??!! WHAT SORT OF ABSURD NONSENSE IS THAT??!! GAY PEOPLE AREN’T NORMAL!! THEY’RE GAY AND THEY SHOULD HAVE A GAY SHOW JUST FOR THEM IF THEY WANNA GET SCREENTIME” and yadda yadda yadda.

I’m tired of this bullshit. Ever since I was an artist I’ve been rooting for gay ships in shonen manga while knowing they would never happen just because they were gay, and now that we are in our Blessed-By-Satan, Pandemic-Chaotic, What-The-Fuck-Is-Going-On, We-Don’t-Know-If-We-Wanna-Go-Back-Or-To-The-Future-Or-Just-IDK-Fucking-Die year 2020, in which the LGBT community is thriving and being louder than ever to fight for our rights, Me, in my twenty four years of fucking age, having gone through several fucking disappointments ONLY regarding this matter, am sitting here on my ass, hopeful as all galactic, glittery shit that for some fucking reason, my new OTP formed by very underrated characters from this very underrated franchise in the southern and western communities, becomes canon because my stupid eyes can see chemistry between them even though those stupid haters’ can’t. But that’s because they’re stupid and homophobic, and they really should just shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna dream, I want to believe. Let a bitch pray in peace.

But even if I’m getting ready for disappointment, I’m gonna make this project happen and I’m gonna have a shit ton of artbooks from this Thunder Flames project inside my fucking garage if no one wants to buy them. But I am going to invest a shit ton of money in it and I am going to have these artbooks come to life. Because I am spiteful and petty and homophobes should shut the fuck up, and I wanna do what I wanna do bc as an independent artist, I’m building my future with my own two, very toned and buff by now from all the drawing I did, hands. 

God fucking damn it.

Jesus christ I’m just rambling at this point, I’m so sorry. If anyone ever reads this out of context people are going to be so confused.

But that’s fine. They won’t. You know why? Cuz I got almost 11k followers here on tumblr but less than 0.5% gives a shit that I’m here, so I’m safe.

Have a nice day, drink your water and fuck homophobes. Peace

[ragnaofazure]

Characters that were, or never were.

((Hello! This is a list of characters I have actually played on or off the site (like Discord), wanted to or considered quite strongly but never followed suit to do so or whatever.))

((It will all be under read more; this is a long post! If you are interested? Have fun discovering who was in any corner of my repertoire! The list should not be that extensive! I will reblog it if I added anyone new I could recall and forgot to initially should that happen. These are mostly in some form of chronological order with added notes about what their place is with me and more.))

Yu Narukami - (Persona 4)  

Additional note: (Have to biasedly put him first at the top and say how he was my true first muse here, lasted literal years. All my experience comes from him and his blog. He reached nearly 1k followers between both regular and not safe blogs, my true labor of love lost to me deciding to deactivate the blog. Some know me from him originally! You all know who you are!))

Sal (or “Syake”/”Syake-san”) - (Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea)

Additional note: (My first attempt at a second character and his blog did kinda work for a while, getting a lot of interactions during the original Funamusea craze back in the day. First time playing a truly well evil character and learned lots. His blog eventually died down and faded, but it was an experience I haven’t forgotten.)

Nepgear - (Hyperdimension Neptunia)

Additional note: (A standalone blog attempt again, flopped hard due to how the fandom seemed to have it’s problems on the RP side as well as my own personal reservations (met some couple of awesome people there still around me today though!). One of the most ways to trash a character by a series that had a bit of an identity crisis in the writing department as the years went on. Still not over how hard they literally screwed this good girl over. Every single time.)

Iku Nagae - (Touhou Project)

Additional note: (Part of an incredibly failed multimuse project (that Nepgear was the face of and part of as well for that matter after her blog flopped) and she never got to really experience light of day. I had only the idea of how I wished to portray the character and I still do, but at the same time, I have no idea if it would have earned me the most interactions, admittedly. All due to how passive she is.)

Varus - (League of Legends)

Additional note: (Me having a thing for characters with tragic stories of loss? Are doomed as if fittingly to pay for their sins and as a cost for the tools to live and revenge? He spoke to me way before Ragna. I knew how I wanted to write him, give him flair given his character, which other Champions I wished for him to interact with soon... I had a much clearer idea. But ultimately, also part of the doomed multimuse blog that never took off.)

Goomy - (Pokémon)

Additional note: (No gijinka, only small, sticky bby that I debatably would never allow to evolve and, of course, could talk. Best Dragon type line to ever exist don’t even @ me okay. It’s just... cute. The anime really made it stick out and I loved it. I always also have loved essentially weaker characters and creatures a lot, thus... It resonated with me greatly and idea of how I was going to go about him (yes, had decided on male for it). Again, multimuse failed, so he went away with it.)

Karol Capel - (Tales of Vesperia)

Additional note: (Weak that could be truly strong when overcoming his fears, and that resonated with me given how I consider myself a coward in real life. I also have a thing also for playing characters everyone finds annoying to make them look better when they should not be as disliked too. And once more, multimuse, gone with it, never found a place to remotely discover if I would have also wanted to play him at large either too.)

Elphelt Valentine - (Guilty Gear)

Additional note: (I don’t need to say anything, most of you knew her enough! Blog flopped hard and I couldn’t find the activity I desired. Why I played her? Just... bubbly sweet girl that didn’t want to act on her capability to be deadly as a Gear and only wished for happiness, I liked all that sugar with that depth I tried to give her. As of recent times, Tumblr locked me out and I could not log back in. I sort of took it as a message as to why I maybe shouldn’t try with secondary blogs to a big degree.)

The Masochistic Admiral/Commander/Master(?)/Doctor(?) - (Kantai Collection-Azur Lane (Maybe even Fate and Arknights???) )

Additional note: (So this is a nameless original Admiral/Commander character by the artist known as “Yamamoto Arifred” (look up on danbooru tags under Kantai Collection alongside). I absolutely fell in love with this guy. How I wish it was possible to play him further then I did, I revisit the art work every so often and every day I recall why I liked him so, so much. He’s just beyond amusing, wacky, outright insane and nonsensical in many good shapes and forms. But he only wants one thing: All under him to succeed and become the best they can be under his very questionable yet effective command. I could go on and on but this is already long enough. Standalone blog, flopped due to lack of activity.)

Thief (”Touzoku”) Arthur - (Million Arthur series)

Additional note: (Super unknown series, super unknown plot, I only met all the characters via the available and uncared for fighting game... And her backstory plus design gave me so many ideas I wanted to play around with as a thief wielding a goddamn Excalibur. Of the first characters I said I wanted to play on impulse alone, but who would have cared? Where could she have fit? It was the bigger discouraging thoughts. I have some icons still... But as always, the hesitation from impulse in itself.)

Hassan of the Serenity - (Fate Prototype/Fragments - Grand Order)

Additional note: (Best Assassin, best girl, only Servant that has brought me to tears in this extensive series, for the love of anything holy let her be happy I swear to God, everything about her cuts me so deep, I can’t deal with it every time I think about it ...I’m calm. But really. She touched me so, so deep. I was normally indifferent for so many years about Fate until I stumbled upon the Prototype duology, and subsequently, the Fragments side. After learning her origins and more, her wishes... I can’t state it enough. I am passionate about this girl. She deserves the world. And I would have loved to give her the best if I got to write her.)

Peri - (Fire Emblem Fates - Heroes)

Additional note: (What everyone sees as an annoying, questionable character and way more, I see as yet another pick for me with great potential to try and develop to be liked more by many, for she is not completely disposeable. I had ideas and wanted to take her further while still having her not lose the tendencies she has, because that would be breaking and disregarding character, but sadly, Peri never as much as left my constant thoughts then trying to privately sample around for myself, would have loved to, though. Very.)

Sigurd - (Fate Grand Order)

Additional note: (Amazing design, amazing voice... Literal definition of: “Do it for her”, loves his partner despite their fate... Incredibly underrated man. He is simply the best and I was interested in finding footing to play him, as he deserves to be noticed more for just being... Simply amazing. There is not much more to say than that, he is cool and that is final. Don’t even fight me on these cold, hard facts.)

[illfoandillfie]

Congrats on 1k!!Can you do a sequel to Code Red where Roger asks the reader if he can hookup with another girl (a groupie) and maybe she’s not comfortable with it but she says yes anyway because she thinks if she doesn’t he’ll cheat when she’s not there, end it however you want ❤️❤️❤️

thank you lovely! ngl this was the last fic i expected to get a request about lmao but today wasnt great so writing a bit of angst stuff was good.

Code Red

1000 Follower Celebration

~~~

In the weeks since the incident you and Roger had made more of an effort to be as honest as possible. You were wracked with guilt about what had happened, and based on how careful Roger was being around you, he was the same. It manifested in overly polite inquiries about how each other felt, about everything from what happened in the bedroom to what you had for dinner. He’d taken to triple checking you were okay with every small decision, and you’d followed his example until all you seemed to ask each other was are you sure? and do you mean it? It wasn’t bad exactly; it was well intended and obviously meant he cared about you and was worried about hurting you, but there was no denying how exhausting it was. You were sure Roger was just as fed up with the whole thing as you were, quicker to get short with you, more likely to come to bed after you were asleep or stay out of the house for as long as possible when you were home. He maintained it was just that he was exhausted from prepping for the new tour – meetings with the others to discuss set lists and which theatrics would be brought out – but you were sure that couldn’t be the only reason. So you were more than a little surprised when he came home early one Saturday, dropping onto the couch beside you and patting his lap like he used to when he wanted you to snuggle up with him. 

“Really?” 

“Only if you want to,” there was that tone again, like he was trying to keep himself from saying more. 

“Of course I want to Rog, been so long since I saw you properly or for long enough to cuddle.” You quickly shuffled closer, leaning your head against his chest as he dropped a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know love, I’m sorry. Things have just been so crazy with he tour and stuff, but I’m here now. Tell me what’s been going on lately, how was work?”

Your innocent conversation soon turned a little more risqué. Between the days of barely seeing each other and the forced politeness of your interactions when you were actually able to be together, both of you were left feeling playful and more than a little flirty. Before you knew it you were sitting across Roger’s lap, his fingers dancing over your leg as he told you about a wet dream he’d had a few nights previous. “So there I was, a hand in your hair and a hand in hers while both of you slobbered over my cock,”

You gave him a light slap on the arm at his word choice.

“Anyway, thats when I woke up.” 

“God,” you laughed, “I swear I’ve never had a dream like that, although I’ve never actually remembered a dream. How the fuck did you manage it?” It felt nice to be back like this with Roger, back to feeling comfortable and not like you were walking on eggshells.

“I don’t know where it came from,” 

“You think about threesomes much?” 

“A bit I guess, probably not much more than the average person though. Why, love? You suggesting something?” he cocked his eyebrow at you. 

“Well, threesomes have never been high on my list but I wouldn’t rule them out entirely. Definitely something intriguing about them. But we’d have to find someone else if that was going to happen… one of the boys maybe?”

“And here I was thinking we were going to invite a second girl,”

 “I’m not opposed to it but I don’t know any girls who’d be up for it so unless you’ve got someone in mind…” 

“Hmmm no one specific,” 

There was something off about his tone that made your chest tighten with worry, “is there anyone else youd want to sleep with?” you tried to play it off as a joke in the hopes that you could keep up the lighthearted connection you’d so missed, “Just so we can give this mysterious other woman a better identity, maybe inspire a dream or two of my own.” 

“One or two, Jane Fonda for instance.” 

“People on your free pass list don’t count Rog, I already know about them.” 

He paused, “honestly?” 

The word made you tense up almost instantly, “That’s what we’ve agreed,” 

“Yes,” he at least had the good grace to look uncomfortable with his admission.

“Who?” neither of you were laughing any more, all the tension from the previous weeks was back in full force, threatening to snap at any moment. 

“No one really, theres just this bird who’s followed us on the last couple of tours Very flirty, cute.” 

“And ummm, would you? Sleep with her, I mean, if you had the chance?” 

“I’ve had the chance, love. More than once she’s tried to get into my pants. I think she’s trying to do the whole groupie thing. Pretty sure Brian’s had her, or maybe it was Deaky, I don’t remember. She’s made it pretty clear she wants me though and, if I’m being honest, I haven’t done anything yet but it’s a little tempting.” 

The yet cut through you like a knife, “Is this you asking for permission?” 

“No… Maybe,” 

“If I said I was okay with it, would you do it?” 

“Maybe?”

“Rog,” you pushed yourself away from him, standing up and folding your arms over your chest. 

Roger leaned forward, imitating your closed off body language, “I know it’s not fair of me to ask that of you or, fuck, for me to even have told you any of it. But things have been so hard between us lately. Every time we’re together I remember what it felt like when you passed out and went limp. Every time we get close to having sex I worry about fucking up again and hurting you. But she’s easy, in every sense of the word. I could just sleep with her and it wouldn’t be a big deal. I wouldn’t feel like I had to be on constant guard with her in case she’s not telling me the truth about how she was doing. I wouldn’t feel like I had to triple check what she wanted. It’d be so fucking simple.” He sighed and dragged his hands over his face, “just forget it, Y/N. Forget I mentioned it,”

“How can you expect me to forget it?” 

“I shouldn’t have said anything, it was just another of my fuck ups,” 

“Oh goddamn it Roger!” you yelled, throwing your arms up in frustration, “I know you feel bad about…what happened, so do I. I mean, Jesus, you think I haven’t noticed the tension too? You think I’m not constantly worried that I’m not being clear enough about fucking everything? I know that the incident fucking sucked and I know it scared you and I know I should have done better and I’m trying Roger, I promise I’m trying. But the constant questioning and apologising are just making it harder. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough, that I’m doing it wrong. I feel like I’m losing you and I don’t know how to stop it.” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying more. Maybe you’d fucked up again too. Maybe this would just confirm for him that you were a crazy bitch and send him into her arms instead. “But it’s fine. You know what, this might actually be good. Go and sleep with her and maybe it’ll help us sort all this out. Maybe you just need a reminder of what its like to be with someone you can trust. Just promise you’ll use protection and think of me.” You turned and walked away but Roger caught you before you’d even crossed the room.

“Y/N, wait,”

You stared at him, trying to keep the anger outweighing the worry but it was impossible under his gaze, “Please don’t. Please don’t sleep with her. I know things have been hard lately but I love you and the thought of you being with someone else…it’d tear me apart.” 

Roger pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you tightly, “I won’t. Of course I won’t. Couldn’t have even if you had been okay with it.” 

“Promise?” the worry that you might have just hammered the last nail in your relationship’s coffin, driven him to cheat on you, was all you could think about.

“Y/N,” he leant back and placed his hand on your cheek, locking his eyes on yours, “I am being completely honest when I say this. I love you and I would never cheat on you. With her or anyone else. We’ll get through this, I promise. You’re all I need.”

Taglist since this is a follow up to an actual fic:  @laedymoon​​​​  @dtfrogertaylor​​​​   @ezmina98​​​​  @vee-ndetta​​​​ @atomic-watermelon​​​​ @kellypenac​​​​ @labessieisallama​​​​ @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr​​​​ @drowseoftaylor​​​​  @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely

[deadmancrawling]

firefly ; 3 [ch]

a/n: yes hi hello i’m so sorry it’s been awhile since i’ve posted anything!! school and work is kicking my butt honestly but alas, i’ve set aside this post for you guys:)

you can read part one (x) and two (x)

word count: 1k

rating: pg

            As Calum climbs down the side of the tower, Davina peers over the edge, biting her lip. She hasn’t been outside of the tower walls in forever, and even before that, she was hardly allowed outside of the castle grounds when she and her sister were younger.

“Are you coming, Princess?” Calum asks as he hits the ground, looking up at the princess in the tower.

“What if I’m found?” Davina says. “I could be killed.”

“You’ll never know until you come out.” Calum says.

“Hey!” Davina cries. “I’m just scared.”

“Davina, it’s not going to be too bad, I promise. You’re going to be fine. I’ll protect you.”

Davina sighs as Pierre nudges her for good luck, and then she perches herself over the window sill and places her foot on the first rung of the climbing wall beneath the window.

She’s careful as she climbs down; making sure not to miss a single step so she doesn’t fall to the ground. She pauses on the last rung, her left foot hovering over the ground, like she’s scared to touch the grass beneath her.

“The grass doesn’t bite, Dav.” Calum says.

Davina looks at him before looking down at the grass, sighs, and finally puts her foot down.

“Oh my gosh!” Davina exclaims, giggling like a little kid.

Davina runs around in the grass, laughing and skipping and jumping and spinning; she hasn’t felt so… free… in such a long time.

“I can’t believe I did this!” Davina cries, stopping her glee fest and looking over at Calum.

“You really haven’t been out of the tower in a decade?” Calum asks, stepping closer to the princess.

“No. I can’t believe I can see so much of the sky again!” Davina cries. “Pierre look! We’re free for the next few days!”

Calum and Davina begin walking away from the tower and on to their next adventure.

“So, Calum, tell me about yourself.” Davina smiles, trying to get to know her new companion.

“Oh no Princess, I don’t do the whole friendship thing.” Calum admits. “I’m not good at socializing.”

“I can tell. Is that why you stole my sisters tiara?” Davina asks, looking at the man standing next to her.

Calum looks at the raven haired princess standing next to him, his brown eyes meeting her bright green ones, and sighs defeatedly.

“Fine. What do you want to know?” He responds.

“First off, how long have you been stealing?” Davina asks.

“Hey, if you’re going to remind me of my mistakes, then I will take you back to your tower right now.”

“Just asking a question.” Davina mumbles.

“Why have you been locked up anyway? Why didn’t they just make the castle more secure?” Calum asks, the two of them walking through the forest towards the town.

“You’ve got to answer the question I asked then.” Davina says.

“Fine. Only after you answer though.” Calum smiles.

“Okay well, I’ve been locked up because my parents thought it would be safer for me if I was hidden. After losing Ayla, they swore that they’d protect me forever. I didn’t think protection meant never seeing me though.” Davina sighs.

“Wait your parents don’t come and see you?” Calum asks. “Dude, Dav, I’m so sorry.”

Davina gives Calum a sympathetic smile before continuing. “They do, but it’s rare. I haven’t seen them in almost six months. I get it though, they have to run a Kingdom.”

Calum shakes his head. “No, if they were good parents, they’d come visit you. How often do you even get human interaction?”

“About once a month.”

“Davina, what the hell? You only get to see people once a month? Please tell me it’s people you actually like.” Calum says, beginning to get defensive over the Princess.

“Actually, I only get to see the General and Captain of the Guards. Captain Kit is nice, but General Liam scares me, I don’t know why.”

Calum glances over at the girl standing next to him before turning his focus back to the forest in front of him. “I’m so sorry you’re in this predicament.”

“Thank you. It’s not so bad, really. I’ve got my best bud, Pierre out of it.” Davina smiles, petting the chameleon sitting on her shoulder.

“Why do you want to go to the Firefly Festival, anyway?” Calum asks, changing the subject.

“Oh. Ayla promised she’d take me one day. We swore we’d go together, but that dream was cut short when –” Davina pauses. “I’m sure you know the reason why.”

Calum nods his head, understanding where Davina is coming from.

“Anyways, are you going to answer the question now?” Davina says, taking the topic off of her.

“One thing you should know, Dav, is to never trust a thief.” Calum smirks.

“Hey! That’s rude.” Davina says. “And my name isn’t Dav, it’s Davina.”

“What, you’ve never had a nickname before?” Calum asks.

“Have you?” Davina retorts.

“When I was younger, yes.”

“I’m an adult, and I’d like to be addressed as Davina, thank you.” Davina commands.

Calum shakes his head. “If we’re to be friends, we get to give each other nicknames. Come on, Dav.”

“Okay, Cal.” Davina smiles.

“Wait,” Calum says. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? You get to call me Dav.” Davina smirks, carrying onward as the two of them walk.

The two of them continue on in silence, not really knowing what to say to one another, seeming as neither of them want to talk.

Pierre eats some bugs along the way, and tries to lick Calum’s neck, but doesn’t succeed.

“Do you like food?” Calum asks suddenly.

“Who doesn’t?” Davina responds.

“Yay!” Calum exclaims, grabbing Davina by the hand and dragging her along in a different direction.

“Where are we going!” Davina giggles.

“My favorite place. It’s a hidden gem, not many people know about it.”

Davina smiles and follows Calum until they’re at a small building, tucked away behind some trees.

“What is this place?” Davina questions.

“Oh this place? It’s the best place ever. You’ll get some great food here.”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday.” Davina smiles, looking at the boy next to her.

“That’s … so sad.” Calum says. “So, shall we go inside?”

“Yes.” Davina smiles, and the two of them walk into the bar.

[takaraphoenix]

So, @kimmycup​ tagged me in this game. Let’s do this. Alternately titled:

Let me rant about the difference in receiving feedback on FFN vs AO3

Because I am really getting lost in the math behind “most popular” fic. And it’s most definitely more than just “reaching a different audience” when the feedback for one and the same fic differs between over 1k comments on one site vs not even reaching 100 comments on another site.

Author Name: Takara_Phoenix

Fandoms You Write For: Okay so let‘s only involve the ones I am still actively involved with, not the ones that are like... eight years old and I haven’t thought of them once, yeah? That’d be: Percy Jackson, Shadowhunters, Marvel, Rise of the Guardians/How to Train Your Dragon, Detective Conan/Magic Kaito, Vampire Academy, Jungle Book, DC Comics/the Arrowverse, Descendants

Where You Post: AO3 and FFN, but occasionally also on tumblr - when it’s prompts or drabbles

Most Popular One-Shot: Depends on where you ask. And what you define as popular. Personally, the only value I see are in comments - kudos are literally just the press of one button, they mean nothing, and hits aren’t an indicator of much either considering it counts as a hit even when you opt out after a paragraph.

I’ve only had my AO3 for five years now, meaning that the fics on FFN still had four more years to simmer on there and gather attention, I suppose. Meaning, a fic posted for the first time obviously gets more attention than a four years later mass repost on another site.

On AO3, the oneshit with most comment threads would be How to Court the Prettiest Omega Ever in Five Years or Less, my first PJO ABOverse fic, featuring Nicercy. Which, you know, is only 37 comments on there. Seriously I genuinely blame the existence of the kudo function for the overall lackluster comment-response on AO3 because “press one button vs actually writing words”... but that’s a different conversation to be had. (I mean, seriously, in comparison, this fic has 51 comments on FFN... and it is by far not the one with most comments I have over there).

The clear winner if you look at FFN is Something Went Wrong, my first Minotaur/Percy smut fest with a whooping 116 comments. And yes. Positive. Genuinely did not expect that when after weeks of debating, I decided to post this story. *chuckles* (Again, for comparison, this fic got a total of 8 comments on AO3... eight... the difference there is staggering... Which, I’d like to tag on that, on top of the kudo-nonsense, the fact that AO3 displays total amount of comments to the readers and not comment threads is also misleading and I don’t think it helps, because I think you’re more inclined if you see it’s only 8 comment-threads in total on a fic you like vs it showing you 16 comments as the total comment-count.)

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: THIS IS TOO HARD TO ANSWER. I’d have to consult my chart, but that hasn’t been updated in ages. Because overall amount of comments means little if you don’t also take into account the amount of chapters - 50 comments on a oneshot are a lot, 50 comments on a 5 chapter fic, not so much, and 50 comments on a 50 chapter is frustrating to receive.

Okay, let me go full nerd on this one. Y’all know I love charts. There was a time where I was interested enough in finding this out that I had a chart going of all my multiple chapter fics. With a collumn on how many chapters the story had at that point in time, how many total comments on AO3, how many total comments on FFN and what, by combining those two numbers and dividing them through the chapter-count, was the average amount of comments per chapter.

However, that chart had last been updated on December 31st 2016. There’s been a lot of influx, lot of new stories and other stories gaining/losing popularity, so when I now say Meet the di Angelos with a 2016 average of 57,25 comments/chapter, that is completely exclusing ten fics I wrote since then.

Damn now I really wanna update the charts...

Also if you can’t tell by now how much actual feedback and comments mean to me, I genuinely don’t know how else to convey it... xD”

If you go by total comment-count - which, again, is misleading because you gotta keep the chapter-count in mind - it’d be Chasing Fireflies on FFN with 1749 comments (on 102 chapters. And, again, for comparison, 88 comment-threads on AO3. 88 vs 1749 is insane) and Percy and the Ghost King of Summers High on AO3 with 749 comments (on 50 chapters. On FFN that’s actually on 990 comments. Far smaller difference here compared to other stories).

Though I dunno, if you measure popular by fanart received, Summers High comes in with five, while my Chasingverse is in with 6... and multiple fanfictions written for it.

Favorite Story You Wrote: Favorite to write, or favorite to reread? There’s a difference there. I’m insanely proud of Chasing Fireflies and the plot and world I created there, the character development. I... don’t really reread it it’s over 500k long I don’t have that time.

Currently, I am really loving The Primal Instinct, it is sooo much fun to write, I get to put basically all my favorite headcanons in there, I’ll get to write Aline and Helen more and Jace’s interactions with others, it features both my favorite OT3s at once. (And it is faaar from my most popular one. Just, feel like mentioning this because my numbers-obsession may read as only writing for comments, which I don’t, I mainly write for myself. The comments are just... very, very nice treats to receive. Also, I love numbers and charts and were curious to see if there is a kind of trend there in what does receive most attention sooo...)

Story You Were Nervous to Post: Uuuh every new thing. Every time I step outta my comfort zone. Trying out a new pairing for the first time. Venturing into a new fandom for the first time. Experimenting with a new kink and wondering if this would be too much. Literally every single time, still.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: On a whim. I suck at titles. Mostly I try to force alliterations because I am a sucker for alliterations, but otherwise I do try to go with “as it says on the tin”, or I try a pun/being clever. Aside from my Triton/Percy fics. Every single fic I’ve written for them is named after a song from Disney’s The Little Mermaid franchise and I have yet to run out of songtitles to use for fics and hey, by then they’ll probably have included a new song in the live-action remake so there’s that! :D

Do You Outline: Depends. Oneshots? No. I just write those. Multiple-chapter fics? ...Depends. xD

If I have a clear vision for where it’s going to go, I do tend to divide into chapters and make myself small notes on what goes into said chapters. Mostly, it’s just a rambled “and x happens and then y” at the end though and then I see how I can make it fit into chapters.

Complete: 795 stories on AO3! Damn, I’ve been busy.

In-Progress: As of right now, 4. Because this week features my Ace Awareness 7-parter, though technically we’re right now down to 3 multi-chapter fics because the next one is only due to be released and join the rotation!

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: Well, that is two entirely different things now.

Coming Soon:

Shadowhunters, Asmodeus/Jace, “The Royal Consort of Edom” oneshot on the 23rd

Shadowhunters, Magnus/Alec/Jace, “Nesting 101″ oneshot on my birthday this Saturday

Percy Jackson, Nico/Percy, “Something Borrowed, Something Green” oneshot on the 30th

Shadowhunters, Magnus/Jace, “Dancing with the Monsters in the Night” an out-side-of-schedule oneshot for Halloween

And I do think that that is what constitutes “soon”.

Not Yet Started:

HTTYD/RotG, Hiccup/Jack, “The Origin of the Blue Hoodie”, planned for November 27th

Shadowhunters, Magnus/Jace, “Set-Up by the Guard-Cats”, planned for December 4th

Descendants/PJO, Nico/Percy, Ben/Carlos, Uma/Audrey, “Demigod Defenders of Auradon”, planned for December 11th

A-and that is as far as I have planned my schedule ahead. Those three are the only fics on my personal schedule that I haven’t started working on yet. I don’t like to plan ahead too much, because then you just completely lose interest in the story by the time you get around to actually writing it.

Do You Accept Prompts: Prompts, not so much. Requests, yeah. For one, prompts always seem so demanding, while requests are more polite - and also more structured. Prompts are always like “here have one quick trope thrown at your head” and like... I do have a well-enough planned-out schedule with more than enough fics of my own set, I don’t need to try and turn one random prompt into an actual story. But if someone has a specific request, a pairing and an actual plot, that they really wanna see, I do always hear them out, I may not always like the pitch and thus not accept them all, but on the overall I do accept requests.

More inclined to accept birthday requests than random requests, because random requests would be put into the rotation of my schedule and, well come on that shouldn’t be a surprise, they tend to be pushed off then in favor of fic ideas I came up with myself because there’s nearly always more enthusiasm about writing an idea that you came up with yourself than the idea of someone else. Whereas birthday requests have a set date that doesn’t disturb my schedule and I am a big softie who has a weakness for getting gifts myself so I do like to do something nice for someone so they get something special for their birthday.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Most excited to write? Well, that’d be the Descendant/PJO crossover atm, because that is something very new and shiny and I do love shiny, new things to experiment on. But also The Prince of Pluto, my next multiple-chapter fic that I have already started writing.

Tagging: Whoever wants to do it! <3

[ettadunham]

A Buffy rewatch 7x18 Dirty Girls

aka gotta have faith

We did it, guys! We made it to the last season! Also, hello if you’re new, and stumbled upon this without context. As usual, these impromptu text posts are the product of my fevered mind as I rant about the episode I just watched for an hour (okay, sometimes perhaps two). Anything goes!

And in today’s episode, our secondary villain is finally revealed made of pure misogyny, and Faith is here to make everything better.

So... Dirty Girls. We really are in the finish line of the season now.

This episode opens with two scenes that I’m not sure were intended to have the connection I made, but let’s do it anyway. In the first, we’re introduced to Caleb, a priest with extremely misogynistic views of women, who is revealed to be an agent of the First. And one who’s been pulling a lot of its strings in our world at that, like blowing up the council, or organizing the Bringers.

I guess Caleb hates humanity as a whole - he is aligning himself with the First after all -, but he directs pretty much all of that hatred onto women. He calls the Potential he picks up with his truck a ‘whore’ and ‘dirty’, and from his fantasies of his past, you get the idea that he specifically targeted young women using his authority, seduced them, and then turned it around and punished them for it.

Misogyny as a theme happens a lot on the show of course, Buffy fights the patriarchy after all. But when it comes to overt depictions of it, it’s often a bit… well, overt. You want to cheer Buffy for punching the douchebag in the face, but you’re also aware of how it’s an exaggeration of reality, made to get that fistbump reaction out of you.

And actually, that’s something that I think is worth re-examining too. A few years back, when the Supergirl TV show was about to premiere, there were a lot of discussions around this type of overt feminism. When I watched the pilot, I experienced some of these cringe moments myself. But, despite some of the many actual problems of the show and its feminism at the time, it also got me thinking.

Why? Why do I actually feel cringey about this?

And the answer that I found was that I was imagining watching the show from a perspective other than my own. Kind of like watching the 1992 Buffy movie back in the 90s with my brother made me hyperaware of its many faults, instead of giving me a chance to enjoy its culty ridiculousness.

So, while considering other perspectives can be essential in forming critical thought of your media, there’s a difference in trying to understand a minority perspective for instance, and feeling the need to put yourself in the shoes of the dominant culture, and base your opinions with that in mind.

But that’s a tangent inside a tangent.

Disregarding all that, imo the show’s most successful and impactful depictions of misogyny arguably come from characters who don’t always act like monsters. I actually like the bad guy from Reptile Boy for instance. He acts charming and nice to lure Buffy in, and only reveals his true nature, once he holds all the power.

Caleb in that sense then, is the show’s best and most horrifying example of that type of misogynistic evil.

(And yes, we could also talk about the Trio here, but trying to fold them in would be yet another tangent, and it’s time to talk about the actual episode at this point.)

Caleb says to the First that he doesn’t lie... but that’s a lie. He does lie. By wearing the symbol of authority, of someone you can confide in, he tells you that he can be trusted. And yes, there is very much a commentary here about the evil of religion and Catholicism, but the point being is that for someone in that community, Caleb’s appearance signals no threat. And Caleb uses that assumption to his advantage.

He only gradually reveals his true nature to Shannon at the beginning. First by calling her a whore. Because hat that point, he knows that he holds the power in their interaction and that he doesn’t need to pretend to be anything but the monster he is in order to lure her in. Shannon’s guard is down, and he knows that she can’t escape.

Caleb’s misogyny is disturbing because it’s still believable in all of its overtness. He does what he does because he knows that he can. He has the power, and that power reveals all of his deepest darkest thoughts with nothing to keep him in check.

And right after this scene, you get Xander’s dream. Where he dreams about two Potentials coming onto him in a threesome situation (and specifically with the two women also getting it on with each other in front of him, because I guess fetishizing lesbians is still a thing that Xander hasn’t internalized despite his best friend being one), while the rest of the girls are having some sexy pillow-fight in the other room.

So… I guess we’re pairing up scary misogyny with “”fun”” misogyny?

Of course, since this is a dream, we can argue that Xander can’t really be held responsible for it. We don’t have power over our dreams after all. It’s where our subconscious works through stuff, and that doesn’t reflect our persona wholly.

Except then the question still remains – why is this scene here? Why would someone write this scene in, especially in an episode full of these themes? When Xander wakes up, he’s immediately faced with the reality, where his role is to fix the toilets. It’s supposed to be funny. Look how powerless he actually is, compared to the girls.

But then he also gets the big speech moment in the very same episode, supporting Buffy, and then loses an eye to Caleb. How are these things connected? And if they’re not… why is that scene at the beginning there?

I mean, you could interpret Caleb removing one of Xander’s eyes as a punishment for Xander having these ‘urges’… Except Caleb’s comment before doing that doesn’t reference that. It references Xander’s speech from Potential, where he’s telling Dawn that he sees a lot by being underappreciated.

So, that’s probably not what they were going for. And it’s a stretch of an interpretation. In the end, there’s little to no reason for that scene to be there, and therefore I’m left with the impression, that the writers weren’t even aware of the misogynistic angle of Xander fetishizing all these young women in his dream. They just thought it was funny.

God, I wrote 1k workds already, and I haven’t even got to Buffy’s storyline in this.

This episode is setting up the pre-finale twist of everyone turning against Buffy, which I kinda hate. And that bleeds into my thoughts of Dirty Girls, unfortunately.

Like, I get it. Everyone kept telling Buffy that this was a trap, that it was a bad idea to bring the Potentials to confront Caleb without knowing more, and she ignored them. And that got a whole lot of them injured. At least two of them dead. It was a bad call.

On the other hand, didn’t Giles keep telling her in the last episode that she needed to make these hard decisions? That she needed to think big picture, and accept that there would be losses? And now, when he advises her against action, and she makes the damn ‘hard choice’ and ‘acts like a general’ I guess it’s still her fault, huh.

I swear, nothing Buffy ever does is good for these people. And maybe that’s the point we’re making, that leadership is lonely and hard and whatever the fuck, but I’m tired and I kinda hate it.

Buffy fucked up, yes. Okay. But instead of dealing with that, instead of having an honest conversation where we can explore these things, we just vaguely hint at how this is driving a wedge between her and the rest of the group.

Thanks, I hate it.

But hey, at least Faith’s here! The way Eliza Dushku delivers this line in particular is an absolute highlight:

SPIKE:  “Not all that tension was about you. Giles was a part of a plan to kill me. For Buffy's own good.” FAITH:  “Well, that makes me feel better about me… worse about Giles...kinda shaky about you.”

The show also addresses the fact that no one told Faith about what the fuck was going on. Which… is a bit of a problem, and paints each and every character on Buffy in a pretty bad light? Willow’s whole explanation about how, well, Faith was in prison and they thought she was safe there falls pretty flat (especially since Faith was in fact attacked in prison due to this), and the characters know it. More than anything, it just feels like they all forgot about Faith, and how this whole plan of the First to murder the Slayer line affects her.

And yet, to be honest, I couldn’t help but feel like it was the writers that actually forgot? Or at the very least, thought that it was inconvenient to share this information with Faith, before both shows came to a point where they could integrate her character into the story again?

Anyway, whoever you blame this on, it’s kinda bad.

Overall, Dirty Girls is still chilling and effective, and Faith is a breath of fresh air in this final stretch of the season. I’m just not a big fan of where we’re taking Buffy’s arc here before the big finale, and that shows.

Next up: Wine mom and vodka aunt fight over the kids’ love.