#WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY WHEN I WAS GROWING UP!?

[stellar-skyy]

INSULT TO INJURY — Platonic Arlecchino & reader

i. SUMMARY: What is Arlecchino to do, when her child comes home injured? ii. CWS & NOTES: Injuries, mild descriptions of blood, mentions of violence, nothing particularly graphic. PLATONIC arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. hurt/comfort. they/them pronouns used. 0.9k words. iii. A/N: HI THIS WAS FINISHED IN MY DRAFTS AND I DID NOT NOTICE... this was a suggestion from @romaritimeharbor!!

Arlecchino was by no means a traditional parent, but she did share common qualities with those who were. She kissed her children’s hair when they were sick, wiping the sweat off their forehead and tucking their sheets extra tight. When they sought comfort, she would hold them close to her chest, even if her affection was rare and only offered away from all other eyes. They appeared in her thoughts constantly, even in the most mundane situations; occasionally she would find herself wondering if Lynette would enjoy a particular brand of tea, or if Freminet’s diving skills had improved in the past months.

Those outside of the House of the Hearth could never imagine a soft side to a cutthroat woman like Arlecchino, not after witnessing her ruthless ways. All they saw was the terrifying Harbinger that cut through hoards with her scythe, taking down each and every one who stands in the way of the Fatui. They would be mistaken to dismiss her as soft-hearted, but even more so to proclaim her heartless. It is simply that her heart beats for the Hearth, and nothing more. 

When she settled into the role of Father, she vowed that even if the Fatui wouldn’t treat her children with love, she would. However strict she appeared, her love for the House of the Hearth was poured through every drop of blood shed in the name of the security of the Fatui. The Fatui were the foundation holding up the orphanage, and so long as it remained strong, so would their home. 

It was one of her most notable traits, and one that many parents held; she would do anything to protect her children. 

So when [Name] turned up at her office, bruises peeking out between the rips in their shirt and bright splatters of blood dotting their arms, she didn’t scold them for walking in without knocking. She stood, moving mechanically over to where they lingered in the doorway. She swept her gaze down their body, taking note of each and every injury. And as they looked up at her, eyes glazed over with unshed tears, she brushed her hand across their face to rid the hair sticking to the blood across their forehead and hissed, “Who did this to you?”

“I–” Whatever rasping words were almost spoken broke off in a fit of coughing. A low cry of pain spilled out, and their hand clutched their side. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

Arlecchino looked out through the hallway, spotting a child half-hidden behind the corner, unsubtly trying to spy on the situation. They squeaked, as she caught their eye and barked out an order. “You! Go to the medical wing and bring back a first aid kit, and several ice-packs. Now.”

They scurried off, the sound of tiny footsteps growing quieter every second. Once they were inaudible, she looked back at her other child, whose eyes were drifting shut slowly. A quick touch on their shoulder sent them flinching backwards, eyes flying open. 

“What happened?” She asked, ignoring the way they shrunk into themself at the question.

“I failed. I was ambushed, and they–” They shuddered, once again gripping their side. Arlecchino took note of the way they winced each time they moved too sharply; bruised ribs, if not broken. “I’m sorry, I just came to report on what happened.”

“You’re injured, [Name].” Arlecchino stressed.

“I know,” They said quietly. They didn’t even seem to have enough energy to fight the tears that have begun dripping down their cheeks. “It won’t happen again. I’ll be better.”

I don’t want you to be better, her mind screamed. I want you to be okay. Arlecchino bit her tongue hard to stop the words from pouring out. It would be unbecoming of the Director to show such earnestness in front of one of her children, especially one who had clearly suffered a failure. She may love them, as she does all of her orphans, but she was raised in the Fatui as well. She knew the cost of failure all too well.

“You will be.” Arlecchino stood back, letting them lean against the door frame again to stop themself falling over. “I’m sure you understand that there will be consequences to this.”

“I do.” 

“Excellent. You will be dismissed from all missions for the next six weeks.” Six weeks, that was just long enough for injured ribs to heal, if she recalled correctly. “You will be required to remain in the House for that time, and any outings must be approved by me before you leave.”

They stared at her, eyes wide.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, Father.” They said quickly.

She didn’t ask any more of the person who had left them in such a state, but they did cross her mind as she wrapped bandages around their arms. She could almost see them now, celebrating their victory over the Fatui. How proud they must be, to have sent one of the Knave’s own agents fleeing. 

A barely noticeable grimace tore her attention away, and she forced her hands to loosen the bandages around their arm. In her quiet fury, she had begun to wrap them tighter than a tourniquet, much to their discomfort. 

For that moment, she dismissed the assailant to the back of her mind, and turned all of her attention to her child.

They would come later, and then, they would learn the true meaning of fear. 

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #—stellaronhvnters. #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino x reader #fatui harbingers x reader

[the-likesofus]

starting our forever, baby

9-1-1 on ABC | Buddie | 2.1k words | s7 spec, prev bucktommy, getting together, love confessions, love is stored in the kitchen

Eddie wakes up to a surprise visit from Buck and they finally talk about forever.

Read on AO3

Eddie wakes up to the sound of pans clanging in the kitchen and the smell of pancake batter and hot butter. Neither of these things is cause for alarm nor out of the ordinary but he is ninety-eight percent certain he went to sleep in an empty house. 

He rolls out of bed, shrugging on a sweatshirt and grabbing a pair of soft socks out of his drawer on the way past and to no surprise finds Buck in the kitchen.

“Hey! Eddie,” Buck smiles brightly at him as Eddie cautiously perches himself on a kitchen stool. “Good morning.”

Buck is bathed in sunlight from the kitchen window behind him, a halo of gold filtering through his soft curls, gel-free and touseled on the top of Buck’s head in a way that Eddie wishes he would let them be more often. “Morning, Buck. You’re here early.”

Buck bustles around the kitchen, pulling milk out of the fridge and grabbing a mug from the top cupboard, his body moving around Eddie’s kitchen as if it has been programmed with an innate sense of where to find anything and everything. He could be convinced that Buck knows his way around Eddie’s kitchen better than Eddie does. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just–it’s been a while, yeah? And I feel like I haven’t seen Chris in ages–I miss the kid–and I figured he was probably, if not missing me, at least missing my pancakes. I hope he hasn’t been letting you make them.”

Buck pours coffee from the pot into the mug, tops it off with the precise amount of milk that Eddie prefers, and sets it in front of Eddie before turning to the frying pan and flipping the pancake. “I know you’ve been improving in the cooking department–I can see it, Eddie, and I’m proud of you,” Eddie’s heart squeezes in his chest. “But pancakes are my department.”

“I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.” Eddie quips and Buck whips around to wave the spatula at him.

“Exactly!”

“Buck,” Eddie presses carefully because there’s a frantic energy fizzing beneath Buck’s skin, he can see it in the way he moves, the line of his shoulders, and the exaggerated way he swings his arms. “Christopher isn’t here. He’s on school camp until Friday.”

“Oh, right, I knew that.” Buck’s whole body joints to a stop like a record skipping on a turntable and then just as soon he’s back in motion again. “That’s okay! I brought lemon juice for on your pancakes, we can save the bacon for the weekend when he gets back.”

Eddie’s heart grows three sizes in his chest, threatening to burst out all over his kitchen and cover Buck and the bench top in a flood of emotions he’s spent the last month and a half trying to fold smaller and smaller until he can safely tuck them away beneath his ribs where it can’t hurt anyone but himself. 

“Buck?” The other man glances at him before turning back to the stove, giving a soft hum in response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Buck grins at him again but it doesn’t reach his eyes this time. 

“You’re buzzing, and not the good kind.” Eddie stands and rounds the counter, he leans against the other side while still giving Buck as much space as he needs. He presses again, softer this time. “Buck? What’s going on?”

Buck deflates and turns the stove off, removing the pan from the element and leaning against the other counter opposite Eddie. “Tommy and I broke up. I broke up with him, or we broke up with each other, I guess.” 

Eddie isn’t sure what to say. As far as he knew Buck and Tommy’s relationship had been going smoothly. They were a good fit, even Eddie could tell, as much as it sometimes pained him to admit. But he was happy for them. Seeing them dance together at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding had filled Eddie with a sense of pride even when it also left him feeling like he was walking with a permanent rock in his shoe—a phenomenon he could finally put a name to after a few long talks with Frank and an enlightening if not nervewracking night at a bar called the Peacock that Hen had suggested he visit for ‘research purposes’. 

“I thought you really liked Tommy?” Is what he finally manages to say once he unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I do,” Buck says. His arms are still full of static as he gestures with his hands in that way that Buck does when he’s nervous or overwhelmed and he’s not looking Eddie in the eyes. Buck shakes his head. “I did. I did, and Tommy is wonderful but I think we both realized that it wasn’t going to last. He got offered a job, down in Mexico.” Buck pushes away from the bench, pulls two plates out of the drawer, and starts dividing the stack of pancakes between them.

“After the whole fiasco with the cruise ship, the LAFD decided they wanted someone on the ground down there as a sort of link between the Los Angeles rescue helicopters and the team down in Mexico City. They’re going to put him in charge of his own team and he’s been working towards some sort of promotion for ages so he’s really excited about it.”

“He didn’t ask you to go with him did he?” Eddie can’t help but let the question burst out of him. The thought of Buck leaving already feels like tearing out a lung but he also knows he’s in no position to ask Buck to stay, certainly not for Eddie’s sake. 

“He did, sort of.” Buck shrugs. “I think he already knew I wouldn’t say yes. L.A. is my home, I couldn’t leave the 118, I couldn’t leave Maddie and Jee-yun. Christopher, the thought of being anywhere that kid isn’t is just—and I know he’s not—but I still couldn’t. I won’t. Tommy knows that. He also knew that I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Me?” Now Eddie has to swallow down a lump of surprise. Eddie doesn't think that little of himself, he knows he’s important to Buck, they are important to each other, but important enough to be the reason Buck stays in Los Angeles while his boyfriend moves to another country?

Buck turns to place two plates, carefully stacked with fluffy, golden pancakes, each drizzled in lemon juice and sprinkled with sugar—Eddie’s favorite—on the kitchen island, and then he’s facing Eddie again only feet away in all his early morning glory and Eddie dares to hope.

“You.” Buck rests one hip against the counter and turns the full power of those bright blue eyes on Eddie as he finally makes eye contact for the first time all morning. “Yes, you, Eddie. Tommy is lovely and sweet and he has been so, so good to me for the last two months, we’ve been good for each other, I think.”

Eddie breaks the eye contact, he’s heard all about how wonderful and lovely Tommy is for the last two months and while he has been so happy for Buck, truly, it has also been agony. But then Buck is stepping up into Eddie’s space and gripping his elbow. Buck ducks his head until he can catch Eddie’s eyes again and follows his gaze until Eddie gives up on trying to hide from him. 

“But it was never going to work long-term, I don’t think it was ever meant to. He’s very sweet and we get along well but it never got any deeper than that. We made better friends than anything else.”

“Okay, so you ended it on mutual terms and he’s moving to Mexico?”

“Not for a few months but eventually he is yes.”

“A few months?”

“Next February.”

“February? Next year? Buck that ages away, why break up now if he’s not leaving until–.”

“Because it was time.”

“Time for what?”

“To stop lying to myself, to you.”

Eddie almost bites his tongue. “Lying to me? Buck, I am so confused right now. Did you hit your head? You do remember coming out to me right? You’ve been dating a man for the last two months. You brought a man to your sister’s wedding. Honestly, I am still living off of the high that I got from seeing your mother’s face when you kissed Tommy on the dance floor, that was—.”

“Eddie!” Buck laughs around his name and it’s the sweetest sound Eddie has ever heard. “Would you let me finish talking? Please?”

Eddie nods. “Right, yes. Sorry. Proceed.” He swings his arm out dramatically and Buck pinches the skin on the back of Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes. 

“Eddie,” There’s a seriousness to Buck’s tone that Eddie doesn’t hear often. “I don’t want to presume anything okay, so if I’ve been reading this wrong then please tell me because I don’t want to make this weird, the last thing I want to do is hurt you or make you uncomfortable but—.” Eddie watches the tick in Buck's jaw tighten. “There’s something here, right? You and me?”

“Do you think there is?” Eddie whispers into the space between them, barely getting the words out past where his heart sits in his throat. 

“I dare to hope there is,” Buck whispers back. “I would like there to be. Eddie, you’re my best friend, you’ve been my rock for years and I love you more than anything but I also—I also think I might be in love with you, and I think I have been for a long time.”

“You think?”

“Like pretty God damn certain actually.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie nods, barely keeping the grin from breaking across his face. He can feel his lips twitching with the effort to suppress it. “That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He steps into Buck’s space and leans forward until he can press their foreheads together. Buck’s arm slides from Eddie’s elbow to around his waist and Eddie rests his palm against Buck’s chest, sliding it up until he can wrap his fingers over the swell of Buck’s shoulder and press his thumb into that divet in Buck’s throat where Eddie can feel the heat of him and the pulse of his heartbeat beneath the pad of his thumb. “Because I am definitely in love with you.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t know and then I did but you were with Tommy and you were happy. I was happy for you.”

Buck breathes deeply and Eddie reveals in the way it rushes past his cheek. “What about you?”

“I’m happy now,” Eddie says and it’s true, and realizing that only multiples the happiness tenfold. “I’m so happy I could burst.”

“Happy that I got dumped again?”

“You didn’t get dumped, you said it was mutual.” Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “But yes, happy that you might finally be mine, that I might finally get to be yours.”

Buck leans back and when Eddie opens his eyes he finds Buck’s eyes glassy and brimming with tears.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Buck says and Eddie pulls him into his arms until they are chest to chest, chins hooked over each other’s shoulders and wrapped up in each other so completely that Eddie could not tell you where one of them ends and the other begins and it feels so right, so right to have Buck so close to him, for them to be one and the same. They breathe together for a long time, squeezing each other closer whenever the micro fraction of an inch between them begins to field like football fields of distance.

“We take this slow, we do it right,” Eddie says carefully, pulling back just far enough to cup his hand around Buck’s cheek and hold his gaze. A niggly part of his brain tries to remind him of everything that could go wrong, of everything they have to lose, but a bigger part of him can only hope for everything that could go so beautifully right. 

“We have the rest of forever, after all.” Buck’s smile is soft at the edges and it smoothes the jagged parts of Eddie’s worry. 

Eddie leans up and presses one gentle kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth, allowing himself that much for now. The rest will come, he is in no rush for the rest of his life. On Friday Christopher will be home and they can make pancakes again. At the end of the month, Buck’s lease will expire and Eddie will finally have an excuse to never let Buck leave his house again. In February they will wave Tommy off at the airport and Eddie will get the chance to thank him properly. Soon enough they might get to dance at another wedding, maybe their own, definitely together, for the rest of forever. 

“Forever and a day.” He promises.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 #season 7 spec #prev bucktommy #meegs writes stuff #911 on abc #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911fic #911 fic #eddie x buck #911 fox

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Gabe/Stephen; largesse (pt I)

For the prompt: Gabe and Stephen being sappy at SOME point

Feat. everybody's favourite: Soft Stephen Petersen (but don't you dare call him that to his face)

I'm going ahead and posting this a day before the poll even closes, because it was winning by a landslide and also, well, Passover. This thing decided to grow legs, as so many prompts do. The second half will be posted next week.

Stephen loves holidays.

It takes a long time for Gabe to figure that out — he's talking literal decades — because Stephen’s actually pretty good at hiding it. Or maybe it isn’t that he’s good at hiding it so much as it’s exactly what someone would expect from him. Stephen exudes ‘too cool for holidays’ energy.

But then, to be fair, Stephen exudes a lot of things that aren’t true. Like how he pretends to hate hugs, but that’s only true in limited circumstances: he dislikes hugs from strangers and distant acquaintances, that’s true, but he liked hockey hugs, and hugs from his family, even though he always scoffed before he got them, just so they wouldn’t get the right idea, and a good hug is often enough to get him out of a bad mood. The thing Stephen hates most about hugs is how much he doesn’t hate them.

He’s like that with a few things: he spent years pretending he couldn’t stand math, even as he was getting straight As in it, helping Gabe out with his homework, but never without muttering how pointless math was. He still pretends to hate his sisters, and groans when Dmitry and Oksana come over, even when he explicitly asked Gabe to invite them, and constantly pretends he isn’t absolutely delighted to find a kindred soul in Jared. Gabe can see right through all of that. Always has. But Stephen’s apparent holiday hatred managed to fool even him.

That is, until Stephen accidentally shows his hand when Passover arrives. Stephen’s been doing something or another for it for years, packing Gabe little lunch boxes so he has options on the road, even including uncharacteristically sweet little notes during one playoff run.

Gabe always figured it was because Stephen knew it was hard to be across the country from his family, especially when Passover fell at the same time as their birthdays, or the last stressful days of the season, or the even more stressful start of the postseason — it’s never been great timing. And as much as Stephen would like to deny it, he’s always been thoughtful about those kinds of things. Always been kind.

But this year it's different. Gabe’s Passover planning usually just extends to hitting up the kosher section at the grocery store to stock up on non-leavened alternatives, maybe head to the deli he likes to get some inferior version of something his mom would make if he’s feeling particularly homesick.

Stephen’s putting a little more effort in. For one, he's decided to cook. Relatedly, he's spending half his time on the phone with Gabe’s mom, it feels like — recipes can’t take that long to convey, no matter how chatty Gabe’s mom is — and shooing Gabe out of the kitchen with his traditional Passover lunch box, even though he isn’t on the road this year, and, thank fuck, it’s still the regular season this time. It’s rough, having to abstain from all of his favourite ways to carboload just in time for the postseason.

And then there's Seder. The fact they're having one, but also the fact they've got a guest list: a few of Stephen's university friends, a Jewish colleague of his who also lives across the country from his family, and Jared and Bryce, Dmitry and Oksana.

He spends Gabe doesn’t even know how much time and energy getting it together, brushing off most of Gabe’s offers to help. Gabe’s exhausted just doing his minor part and low-key worrying about Dmitry or Jared saying something to set Stephen off.

Everyone's shockingly well behaved, though, to the point where Gabe wonders what Stephen threatened them with. Something horrible, he’s sure. At the end of the night, everyone parts with leftovers, which Gabe is a little wistful about — he knows they kept a little of everything but it’s his favourite, and Stephen did good job with it, if not a Miriam job — and Gabe starts clearing the table, because Stephen looks like he’s hit his limit.

The kitchen is such a disaster Gabe doesn’t even know where to start — he didn’t think they had this many dishes. He doesn’t even recognise all of them. Gabe has never been more grateful to have a dishwasher. He only wishes they had two. Or three, even. Three would be good.

“I think that went okay,” Stephen says as Gabe starts rinsing the dirtiest of the dishes.

“It went great,” Gabe says. “What’s the occasion, anyway?”

“Passover,” Stephen says.

“Steve,” Gabe says.

“Oh, well,” Stephen says. “It’s important to you.”

But he’s flustered, and not just flustered in the way he gets whenever he has to admit he’s done something nice for someone.

That doesn’t typically apply to Gabe anyway. Stephen claims that it’s inherently selfish to do nice things for Gabe, because they’re a partnership, and helping his partner helps him. Gabe figures whatever helps Stephen sleep at night after doing embarrassing things like offering Gabe the last piece of pizza — obviously not during Passover — or telling him he likes his playoff beard when they both know it’s mid at best.

Though, Stephen actually seemed pretty into it, last year, to the point where Gabe was starting to think he might have a bit of a thing for the beard. So maybe that was selfish after all.

Gabe, equally selfishly, hopes they make it even further this year, just to test that theory.

"Well," Gabe says. "Thank you," and notices Stephen looks relieved that he's letting it go. Even grateful.

So of course that's when Gabe starts paying attention.

#fic snippet #SOTM #gabe markson #stephen petersen

[lilyisclueless]

When they realize they're in love - Gojo Satoru

How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. Satoru's turn

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Tags: Fluff, that's about it

-

He isn’t sure when the two of you got as close as you did. He’s known you for years, being one of the first ones to greet you when you transferred from Kyoto to be a teacher here, and ever since it’s been a gradual growth. It was a steady growth, but so slow that by the time he picked up on the fact the two of you were close friends, his only option was to accept that after years of goofing around and not allowing anyone close, he’s finally made another friend. A serious friend; not just another comrade putting up with him.

That realization happened a few years ago. It was a surprise but he accepted it. Since then the two of you have grown even closer. He’s grown to admire you, and you’re one of the very, very few people that he had any ounce of respect for. It wasn’t like you were incredibly strong, although you definitely could hold your own, so he wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was the way you understood his ideals, how you wholeheartedly supported them and defended him. When he had told you that he wanted to let the vessel of Sukana live, you immediately agreed to vouch for him. You didn’t question him, didn’t ask if he lost his mind. You didn’t make a face or doubt him. He didn’t have to convince you. When he asked why you were so quick to agree, you smiled up at him and told him that you trusted his judgment completely, and if he was wrong about Itadori; you trusted he would deal with him.

That had left a weird fuzzy feeling in his chest he couldn’t shake off for the next couple days.

Maybe the admiration came from how you took care of the students. You care about them the same way a mother would about their children. You would surprise them with sweets and gifts, always making sure everyone got their favorite. If they needed someone to talk to, you were the one they went to. He’ll never forget the way you broke down when he had to break the news that Itadori had died. That was the first time he held you in his arms, and if he didn’t want to kill the higher-ups before, he certainly did then when he was feeling you fall to pieces between his fingers.

Naturally, he didn’t hide it from you when he woke up. Maybe it was the fear of what happened with a certain someone in the past, but his soul didn’t feel at ease until he saw the way you melted in relief at seeing their student standing again.

Or maybe it was the way you matched his energy. Or the way you can soothe his emotions with ease. Maybe because you could take his jokes, and throw them right back at him. Or how you weren’t afraid to goof off, claiming the world was too bleak to be so serious all the time. Sometimes you would have to rein him back in, but only when he needed it.

There were a lot of reasons for him to respect and admire you, but none of them felt quite right when he asked himself why.

“I know I’m always telling you to shut up, but it’s weird when you actually do it,” you speak up, breaking his line of thoughts. He glances down at you, the two of you walking side by side to find a soda machine. It was rare for the two of you to go out for any other reason than a mission or supervise the kids, but today was the rare exception. He glanced down at your outfit, and he couldn’t help but think you looked cute, but you spoke up again before he could dwell on that, “What’s on your mind?”

His smile twitches, the corner of his lips tugging into a playful smile. He looks away from you, staring straight ahead as he hums in thought at your question. You could barely see his blue eyes peak from over his sunglasses, but you definitely could make out the teasing glint in them.

“I’m just wondering why a girl like you chooses to spend her time with a guy like me.” You felt your cheek grow a little warm, and you’re quick to look away with a nervous chuckle. Where was he going with this? “After all, I’m the strongest and you’re the weakest. How are we supposed to-“

He’s cut off with a small ‘oof’ when you give his shoulder a playful punch, completely throwing him off guard. You hadn’t moved your body to indicate you were planning on trying to hit him, simply swung your arm straight to the side.

He stopped walking then, rubbing at the spot you’d hit him. Not because it hurt, he was Gojo Satoru after all. He could handle a little punch that held no real intent behind it. No, because he was shocked you actually managed to hit him.

He’s allowed you to touch him before of course, so you don’t realize how significant that moment was. Because every time you’ve touched him in the past, he’s allowed it. He’s put his infinity down purposely. This time? You simply skipped through. He felt the moment your hand touched it and simply kept going.

The last person who could ever do that was…

You stopped moving, shuffling to face him with a curious expression on your face. He could still see a hint of red on your cheeks, and you tilted your head to the side to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me I wounded you with that little punch? Who’s the strongest one now?”

He wishes his heart would stop pounding in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt flustered. He forced himself to resume his walking, purposely reaching down and ruffling your hair when he walked past you. As he expected, you immediately start complaining and become distracted trying to put those pretty strands back into place.

His long strides put him a good distance away, and he laughs when you have to jog to catch up. The two of you fall into a playful banter, which eventually trailed off to a comfortable silence.

No wonder it didn’t feel right to say he respected and admired you for all that you do. He respected and admired you because he loves you.

He wonders when he fell in love with you, but he has a feeling it was just like their friendship - so gradual that he’ll never be able to pinpoint it. That’s okay though. He’s tired of taking it slow with you. Soon, he decides, he's going to take you on a date.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #LilyIsCreative

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

Now that the nausea was behind her, Mystique was starting to enjoy pregnancy again. It wasn’t as nice as the first time, obviously, what with her being stranded in the wild territories away from her Folk, but there were perks. For one, she got her pick of the prey and plenty of it. Whenever Russetfrond would get after her for being “gluttonous”, she would remind him she was eating for three and that would shut down any kind of argument. She couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed like he was putting in extra hunting trips just for her which was nice. 

As well, she had been able to use her growing stomach as an excuse to stop running combat drills with the Clan cats. Despite their attempts to keep it from her, she had inevitably learned about their plans to murder Razor and she wasn’t going to have any part in that. True, he wasn’t a good cat, she had come to accept that, but that didn’t mean they had to kill him. Still, Scorch in particular seemed insistent that it was the only option and she had a powerful hold over Goldenstar, or so it seemed. 

Mystique often turned her options over in her head while she sunbathed, trying to think of an alternative solution, one where no one else died and she got to go home as soon as possible. She always came up short. When it came down to it, she was just one cat. What could she do? So she tried not to think about it and focused on getting plenty of food and rest. 

Today, she was resting on top of the warriors’ den in a warm beam of sunlight, idly watching the goings on. Oddstripe and Aldertail were sharing tongues in the shade. Scorch finished talking with Goldenstar in hushed voices then joined Pantherhaze, Slatepaw, and Fogpaw as they headed out of camp. The little white tabby jumped in excitement, making Mystique laugh. It was strange to see a cat that looked so much like Ghost moving with that kind of energy instead of stomping around like an old curmudgeon. 

The new kitten, Lake, padded out of the nursery and stretched with a big yawn. Aldertail looked up and waved her over with a smile. 

Oddstripe grinned too and called, “Afternoon, Lake! How are you feeling?”

“Lots better!” Lake purred, padding over to them. “Those weird plants you gave me helped lots!” She was looking better too. Her ribs were slightly less visible under her fur, her coat glossier. Mystique had never seen a kitten look so poorly before. It was reassuring to see her improving so quickly. 

“Aren’t they something?” Aldertail chuckled. “Are you hungry?” 

“Oh, yeah,” nodded Lake. “Starving!” 

“I’ll grab you something,” said Aldertail, jumping to her paws. 

“Gee, thanks miss!” the kitten said as if it were a rare wonder. Oddstripe smiled and pulled the kitten close to give her a few licks around the ears. She giggled and sat up tall to let him. Aldertail quickly returned with a bird from the prey pile and the two adults sat back and watched as the kitten tucked into it voraciously. Mystique caught them glancing at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. It made her skin crawl, just a little, which she felt guilty for. 

She stood, hoping to get away for a bit and put them out of mind. She noticed Aldertail stiffening when she did, eyes darting over like Mystique was about to lunge for her, claws bared. She groaned under her breath and started out into the grass. 

“Uh, Mystique, hold up,” called Sparrowpaw who was on guard duty. “Where are you going?” She’d nearly forgotten he was there. 

“For a walk,” she shrugged, “I just want to be… away from here.” 

“Well, I’ll come with you,” he said. It was a statement of fact, not an offer. She sighed. He was like a smaller, more pleasant Russetfrond. 

“Fine, whatever,” she sighed. “I’m going to the river.” 

“Alright,” Sparrowpaw said. “That’s okay.” She lashed her tail. 

“I know,” she growled. “I wasn’t asking.” Back home, no one treated her this way. No one ever told her what she was and wasn’t allowed to do. Sure, Razor had jobs for her every now and then but those were things that needed to be done, not arbitrary restrictions on her free time. She was sick of it. 

Sparrowpaw blinked in surprise but said nothing - a victory for her. She made her way briskly towards the river, not worrying about her long strides out pacing her smaller companion. Her back was starting to ache and all she could think about was dunking herself in some cool, fresh water. 

When they reached the river, she slipped into the water without hesitation, sighing in relief at the sense of weightlessness. She rolled over to make sure all of her fur was doused thoroughly then threw her head back to get the water out of her eyes as she came up for air. She hummed pleasantly and looked over to see her chaperone hovering near the bank. 

“Come on in,” she said, jerking her head in invitation. “The water’s great.” 

“I’m alright,” said Sparrowpaw, settling down. “You really enjoy getting wet?”

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s literally the best. I don’t know why so many cats are scared of it.” 

“It’s not… scary,” he said, “just really unpleasant.” 

“Weirdo!” Mystique called, easing herself down into the shallows to let the water flow over her. 

“Maybe,” Sparrowpaw laughed awkwardly. They sat there in silence for a good, long while. Mystique closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun and just let herself enjoy the moment. She tried not to think about home or her Folk or her brother. 

“Can I ask you a question?” said Sparrowpaw at one point. 

“Sure,” she shrugged. 

“Have you considered maybe staying after the kittens are born?” he asked. “Like, joining the Clan full time?”

“No,” Mystique said flatly. “No, I’m going back home the first chance I get.” 

“Why?” asked Sparrowpaw. 

“Uh, ‘cause it sucks out here?” she said. “You don’t know any better cause this is all you’ve ever seen, but being Exalted is a million times better than living out in the dirt and the heat. I get free food any time I want it. I have a soft bed and lots of great toys and it's always the perfect temperature inside. My Folk give me tons of attention and pets. Have you ever been pet before? It's the best.” She glanced over her shoulder at Sparrowpaw to find him looking unconvinced. 

“I haven’t,” he said. “But don’t you think you would enjoy the freedom of living out here? There's satisfaction in hunting for your food and supporting your Clan.” He seemed so earnest, it was almost sad.

“No thanks,” Mystique snorted. “Not interested.” 

He frowned. “I mean, if you stayed, maybe you and Russetfrond could stay together. I’m sure that you could make up if -”

“Look, kid,” she rolled over to look at him head on. “I don’t really care about trying to ‘make up’ with Bee Face Mc Pouterson.” Sparrowpaw’s ears pressed back against his head. “He was a bit of fun, nothing more than that. Honestly, he’s not even really my type, I was just bored.”

“O-oh,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. He looked pale. Mystique sighed. Maybe she had been too hard on the poor boy. Or maybe she’d traumatized him with her casual language. Clearly, these wild cats didn’t know how sex worked.

“What I mean to say is, it’s fine,” she said, swiping a wet paw over her face to cool it off. “I’ll have the kits and then go home. He’s happy, I’m happy, win-win.” 

“Right,” Sparrowpaw said. “I guess we’ll just have to hope things go well.” 

Mystique squinted. “You mean with the plan to kill my brother.” 

Sparrowpaw paled further. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I thought you didn’t know about that.” 

“I’m not dumb kid,” she said, “plus the camp is small. Sound travels.”

“Right…” He looked down at his paws, tail curling around them. “I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” 

“Why does it?” Mystique sat up a little taller. “Why can’t we just, like, talk to him?” 

“Because we tried that,” Sparrowpaw said, looking up at her. “He killed Smokyrose.” 

Mystique’s voice caught in her throat in a frustrated lump. “That was… That was an extreme circumstance,” she said. “It wouldn’t happen again.” 

“You have to know that’s not true, right?” Sparrowpaw said earnestly. “I mean, he’s your brother. How can you not see what he’s like?” 

“You don’t know him!” snapped Mystique, slapping one paw loudly against the surface of the water. Sparrowpaw flinched at the noise and she briefly felt guilty but she shoved the feeling down. “He’s my brother. He’s not a monster.” 

“Sorry,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Mystique sighed, a deep frown creasing her face. He almost sounded like Aldertail. It made the Shadow Truth wriggle deep in her gut, worming its way closer to her conscious mind. She dunked her head under the water to try and get away from the feeling but even the cold shock didn’t help much. She sighed, stood, and shook out her pelt, spattering the sand with droplets. 

“I think I’m done,” she grumbled and headed back to camp to sulk.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangenrising #Mystique #Sparrowpaw #Lake #Aldertail #Oddstripe #Newleaf

[annie-creates]

Life without you

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1000

Note: This is a cute little comfort fluffy fic.

With a heavy sigh you close the door of your small apartment in the Firefly base, shrugging your jacket off and placing your shoes by the door. The living room is quiet and dark, not even the kitchenette light left on. No wonder the place is vacant, it must be long past midnight at this point. Not having the energy to even eat you quickly brush your teeth changing into the pajamas you left in the bathroom this morning. You’re trying to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb the night peace of the place. Carefully you open the bedroom door, your girlfriends form steadily breathing on her side of bed.

You whine in pain as you sit on your side of the bed trying to relieve your tensed up muscles, the mattress dipping under your weight. With the many people who kept arriving at your camp, a lot of them needed your help as a doctor. Count in your regular patients and those who got hurt during patrols and hunting and you were overwhelmed with work. Sleep was a foreign concept to you at this point, your body running solely on caffeine and cold showers. The rare nights when you could take the time to actually go home and sleep you returned deep into the night and left before sunrise, hardy even having the time for a conversation with your girlfriend.

“Hi.” Comes from behind you and you feel the duvets shifting.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up.” You apologize in a tender voice.

“You didn’t.” But it’s clearly not true. “A lot of work?”

“A crazy lot of work.” You admit crawling into bed, Abby offering her strong embrace to you. “I wouldn’t even wish upon anyone to see it.”

“That bad?” She chuckles amused.

“Nah, even worse.” Is all you say because the last thing you want to talk about when finally coming home is your never-ending work again.

Your mind goes back to a year ago when Abby joined the fireflies, needing your medical help herself. She was a much different person back then, hurt and skinny, but also guarded and insecure. She came out of her shell a lot over the time, being an amazing companion, endlessly supportive and caring. She always understood when you had too much work or needed her to reassure you in your skills. Her hair had grown out to a shot bob now and she built her muscles into a strong frame.

“When was the last time you slept?” She asks watching the dark bags under your beautiful eyes.

“Um, Monday? What day is it?” You answer unsure, your mind and eyes already too heavy to hold a meaningful conversation.

“Thursday.” From her vice it’s clear Abby doesn’t approve of this, but all she does is tighten her hold on you.

She carefully caresses your back and you play with her short hair. You told her how beautiful she’d look with it longer, but she’s adamant on not letting it grow longer than her collar bones. It’s practical, won’t get in her way in a fight, she always says, but you can see she has deeper reasons not to want long hair she’s not yet ready to share with you. As you’re falling into slumber, a harsh knock on the front door startles you awake.

“Really?” You complain under your breath getting up to open the door before your girlfriend can stop you.

You open the door to find the west group’s captain on the other side, tapping his foot impatiently. You can already guess where this is going, waving your sleep a goodbye in your head for another night. Sometimes it felt like the planet would stop turning and freeze over if you took just thirty minutes to have a break. You contemplate shutting the door in his face but you’re just not that kind of person, besides there could be an actual emergency needing your attention.

“What can I do for you?” You offer instead.

“I need you to come look at one of our guys, he got an arrow to his knee and…” He keeps rumbling.

“Do you know what time it is!?” shutting him up your girlfriend inserts herself into the door frame, her arms already folded over her broad chest in anger. “You have like ten other doctors to look after him, let this one have a night of sleep, Jesus Christ.”

“But he’s…” He tries to argue with her, not knowing it’s equivalent to signing your own death certificate.

“He’s not going to die till morning. For fucks sake.” Not letting him continue she shuts the door with a harsh swing. “You really need to learn how to say no sometimes.” She admonishes you being in a rage.

“Thank you, my knight in a shining armor.” It’s only half joke because you know deep down she’s right and people need to stop using you so much. “What would I do without you.”

“Die of sleep deprivation.” The look on her face is serious but you see it in her eyes she’s not actually mad at you.

Hugging her neck you give her a loving kiss, content you might actually get some sleep in tonight now. She picks you up forcing you to hang your lets around her waist and carries you back to bed, wrapping herself around you like a snake to stop you from getting up again and also because she loves your affection and scent. It wasn’t hard to get sleepy again in her warm embrace full of love and care.

“Now sleep.” She commands you and you have no intention to disobey her.

Sometimes you really didn’t know what you’d do without her, but she felt equally lost in the world without you. She couldn’t let you get yourself hurt one way or another, partly because she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you weren’t by her side. At this point she couldn’t imagine her life without you.

#abby anderson comfort #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou2 #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou2

[loneliestluvr]

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: beron😒, abuse in general(like triggering af please be warned), me being a rhysand hater, brief suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.1k— this took me all day to write(from 7-9 am and then 3-now please be thankful😞🙏🏼)

taryn thinks: YES I DID CHANGE THE NAME. IT FITS BETTER. I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS WHEN I STARTED. HUSH. i would like to choose this very moment to tell you there will be a happy ending and to say they WILL end up with babies. still unsure how many parts this will be though 💃🏼 im just a gorl. @readychilledwine this is my payment for that tamlin baby and domestic fluff(smut if you’d like) bonus chapter for lost bonds 🤗

There was glass shattered on the floor by the windows.

Eris’s head was down as he stood before his father, pieces of deep auburn hair hanging by his eyes as he tried not to move and tried not to let any emotion pass over his face. Just as Beron expected when he took his lashings— whether that be from a whip, his tongue, or his powers.

However indignant, the fact his father had chosen his tongue today was a mercy.

“You are insignificant,” Beron seethed, spit spraying from his mouth as he yelled. The deep, cruel, voice booming off the walls of his fathers study. “—a bastard, truly. A bastard because you surely can not be this stupid and be born of me. A worthless excuse for a first son.”

Eris kept his stature wane, making himself small for his father despite the fact he was a few good inches taller than the male.

Sometimes, he thought the High Lord’s need to belittle and denigrate everyone around him, raise his voice and grow violent, was driven by some sort of lust. For power, respect, whatever it may be. Something he lacked.

That maybe the fact he put energy into minimizing his court, his family, his wife even, was because he didn’t even respect himself. That he needed to create room for his anger and hatred by pushing others down.

What had happened to him that made him so cruel? Is this how his father had been to him? Was this love to him?

“How is it that we’ve only just learned there’s a fourth sister, Eris? Tell me,” Beron’s voice grew lethally quiet as he spoke and Eris forced himself to breathe, bracing mentally. “—tell me so I know who better to put on the throne instead of your pathetic fucking excuse of life.”

His words grated against his ears, voice tight and angry and again growing louder as he spoke.

Another glass was thrown, and shattered. Hitting the wall so close to Eris’s head that a piece flew at him, slicing across his cheek lightly. He barely moved.

The crystal thin enough, knife-like enough, that he felt the warmth of his blood start to slowly seep from his skin.

Like moisture collecting on the petal of a white poppy in the early morning dew when he sat in the meadows by the Forest House, Saydee’s head in his lap as he talked to the earth. A small reprieve from the chaos of the palace.

Eris was there, in his mind.

Petting his hounds grey coat as he whispered, just as he always did when the sun came over the horizon and woke for the day. Like he had since he was just a faeling sitting in his mothers lap as she did the same.

His mother had explained it so gently one morning, sat in the grass, about when the sun comes over the skyline to say good morning. Not to speak too loudly or too brash so that he didn’t startle the earth, because she too deserved kindness. The Mother.

So almost everyday for as long as he could remember, he sat in that meadow, lazing in the tall grasses as those vibrant hues of blue and orange and pink and yellow streaked across the sky— and he whispered to Her.

About his hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled or sought after, talked of the life he wished to have. That he wished his own mother had. Asked for her days to be gentler, kinder, prayed on every wild dandelion he found, for someone to share his days with, to talk to— however boring.

And he had. He had his dogs, and he had the fields surrounded with the creeks that ran through their property, and he had the sky.

He wished he was there most of the time. So he created a place in his head, to escape in moments like this.

Acres of meadows, full of flowers and taller grass than he could dream of. Up to his hips, his bloodhounds disappearing beneath the blades as he strolled leisurely. Hands wading through the soft thicket. Sometimes he dreamed of others with him, his mother, Lucien, someone else.

Locked away that piece of himself to disappear into whenever being in his body became too much.

It’s where he had spent nearly fifty torturous years Under the Mountain, spending every waking moment protecting the female who had raised him for his father didn’t care to. Spending fifty years away from those grasslands and that beautiful savoy grandeur. His meadows.

Throwing stick after stick out into those pastures as he walked further and further, his best girl running every time he threw— chasing bunnies and jumping into the streams. Getting lost in his mind. When he knew it was morning, which was so very rare down in that dark and decrepit nightmare, he prayed. He prayed for some divine force to step in, for Her to save him and his family. To be kinder. The first time he cried and spoke his despair aloud, Feyre Archeron had come three days later.

Eris was deep in fern grasses as the blood dripped down his face, but he still did not move.

He hadn’t even taken his coat and finery off from Hewn City yet, having told his father he was coming from the lookout on the northern border. He didn’t bring attention to it.

He heard his fathers deep breath and the creaking of the chair behind his desk as he sat, maybe seeing reason now that the heady scent of his sons blood filled his study.

“You will go to Rhysand as soon as possible,” Beron started, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eris still didn’t look up, just blinked at the floor. “—do what you must. Find a way in, figure out what else those wretched girls took from us. I do not care if you kill or maim or whatever else takes your interest these days.”

His voice trailed off as if remembering something significant and Eris heard the wood groan again and then footsteps, his heart remaining steady despite the screaming that filled his head. Then he saw the polished toes of Beron’s shoes.

“You always were the smartest of my sons. So much like me, so brutal.”

Male pride laced those words. Eris wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, and he did want to kill. He wanted to kill the man before him, wanted to kill the ruination that circled this court. That ripped its beauty from her chest, chewed it up, and spat it out.

But he did not move.

A hand gripped his chin, turning his face to the side and up. Eris let his eyes flick to his fathers face and saw the warning there.

“Where did you get this.” It wasn’t a question, Eris knew.

“I was playing with Saydee and tripped too close to a jagged rock, it cut me. It didn’t hurt.”

Beron released his chin if only to land a sharp slap on his other cheek and then immediately grabbed his face again. His grip burned, like molten ire, making the flesh of his cheeks dig into his teeth.

“Where did you get it.”

“I was practicing my swordsmanship with Brenton and he sliced me with his rapier, it was an accident. He got the proper punishment for hurting me.”

Beron released his son’s face and stepped back.

“Get out, don’t let your mother see you.”

Doubtless that the reason he wanted him gone was because he didn’t want his sons blood to drip onto those precious carpets.

Eris didn’t need to be told twice, so he walked. As calmly as he could until he got to his rooms, making sure to take the long way around and avoid where his mother was no doubt waiting by her own door to hear Eris’s footsteps walk by.

To know he was safe, or to know what his father did. Either way, he didn’t want her to see him like this.

Closing the door behind him, he finally loosed a breath, opening his eyes as he shucked off his jacket and draped it over the chaise by the hearth. Walking to his tray of decanters, lightly touching the blood on his face with one hand as he picked a bottle up in the other.

His scarred fingers came back crimson.

A slow boiling rage, like simmering sugar, filled his body. His muscles, gritting his teeth silently. Grip growing tight as he looked at that blood.

And then that was all he saw as the glass bottle shattered into the brick fireplace, sending the flames roaring and him stumbling back a few steps into the post of his bed.

He hadn’t noticed it was lit, vision glazed over.

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide as he watched the flames fulminate, casting an orange glow on his room and his face. So bright and wild he felt the heat from feet away as he watched the fire roar and gutter back down.

Eris thought that maybe he really wasn’t any better than the man that sired him at all.

Spring in Velaris was beautiful.

The mid-day sun warmed the air around the River House, a gentle breeze kissing Blair’s skin and ruffling through her curled hair.

She’d let her little sister braid it back this morning, a thin coronet that made a beautiful pleated flower on the back of her head. Though her loose bangs tickled her eyes, Blair thought she had looked rather pretty.

She wasn’t so outside of her body when she sat in the open air. And she felt… alright.

Though she would have preferred a fir to scale, as they allowed for easier climbing, but the willow she had found herself in made for a good view of Elain working in Feyre’s garden.

It was a welcome change from her window. Like there was no need to run away and hide in the forests of her mind, digging her own hands into the soul of the earth just to make sure her mind didn’t numb away.

She was almost laying down against the bark, the large trunk and spindling branches wide enough two people could have sat up here side by side. As uncomfortable as it may have been, the rough corking crust digging into wherever it touched through her pale yellow gown, it felt like home.

It’d been a week since Starfall at the House of Wind, almost a month since that all too brief introduction she had made to the world in Hewn City on Winter Solstice. Of Prythian’s world, at least.

Blair hadn’t expected anything for it, she had been there for a short half hour and had been… occupied the whole time.

Sometimes her skin still burned when she was alone. In the bath, when she stirred honey into her tea, late at night in the too cool sheets of her bed.

She’d felt her own since Hewn City, able to think and manage conversations, elating to Feyre and Elain and she quite enjoyed conversing with her little sisters now. But she still laid by the fire, night after night just to feel that warmth fill her.

But after that, after the surplus of gifts from their small gathering that followed, presents hadn’t stopped when the Solstice holiday ended— but they weren’t coming from her family.

Baskets and boards and chests and boxes were sent to Rhysand’s palace and then were brought to the House. Welcoming’s and courtiers from every place in Prythian it seemed, branching out to welcome her.

Well wishes, mostly. Some off-notes and letters, claiming that Blair Archeron’s beauty could be used to fix the rifts in this continent and between courts. That had been the most absurd one, a letter for Rhysand asking for her hand in marriage. He laughed as he read it to her, sitting by the window— knees tucked into her chest.

It angered her more than anything. That she was already a prize to be had, or that it was Rhys they were asking.

Slowly, as days passed and she spent more time outside breathing clear air, the anger grew. The realizations came in waves, of things she had missed, times where she should have spoke up and didn’t.

Resentment, frustration, shame, guilt.

She didn’t let it show, bottling it up and shoving it down. Killing the urges inside her to scream at everyone, to bellow and seeth and grow violent. Something so awake in her, gnashing and bloody teethed. The need to give into that voice in her head that told her to let it go.

That she needed to in order to go on, in order to have a sense of normalcy. That exploding was the only was to settle her bones. She felt particularly nasty towards Rhysand.

The betterment he had to achieve and grovel over, should grovel over, was stacked against the High Lord.

The anger was what took her the most, forcing her fingers to loosen the grip she had on her fork at dinner nightly as she listened to him ramble and laugh. Watched Feyre go on like she would not die having his child, closer and closer to being due.

She wanted to watch him bleed as her sister was going to.

Wanted to scream for all he had made Nesta do.

The entitlement.

But Blair buried it.

So she would glare to herself when he wasn’t looking, lip pulled back slightly and passed off as a twitch, before she took in what was sent as an attempt to woo her.

Blair had thought they were for Feyre in all honesty, before Cassian explained that it was bad luck. A few days ago when he walked with her along the Sidra— Elain had dragged her out and in return she made the Illyrian come with her— he had said it was a grim omen and wish of terrible luck to send an expecting mother gifts for a babe that hadn’t yet been born. To the fae at least.

She listened mindlessly. Noting the scent of her older sister that came from him in waves. She needed to talk to Nesta, and soon. A conversation was owed on both ends.

The thin parchment of the book she was reading scraped against the soft pads of Blair’s fingers as she leaned back against the large trunk of the willow.

Vines of cream wisteria flowing in the soft wind that sent the caps of her bell sleeves fluttering, watching Elain out of the corner of her eye as she dug her bare hands into the soil. Choosing not to use the enchanted gloves Lucien had gifted to her as she tended to the flower beds at the back of the house.

Despite the cool air surrounding Blair from the river flowing a few paces away, a warmth bloomed past her skin, not from the sun, but from something else, and her chest melted or sparked or roared as she saw a flash of deep auburn hair— walking towards where she was in the tree.

The second oldest Archeron’s brow furrowed so slightly. That scent— that heated mahogany and citrus, burning embers, floated to her on a soft wind and brushed through her hair in a soothing caress.

Eris’s hand skimmed along the brush of a white rose hedge as he strolled, his gait loose but strong. Blair kept her focus on the pages she was reading, but a sudden pounding in her heart had her unable to focus on any of the words.

She heard him approach, feet light and careless, she wouldn’t have heard it if she were still human. But with her new ears, the new senses she was still getting used to, she could.

The feet stopped, just under her, and Blair flipped the page. The thin and gauzy skirt of her dress draped and hung down the branch she lounged on, leg crossed over the other.

Eris cleared his throat then, and Blair could see his tall stature blurred in the peripheral of her vision. Hands tucked appropriately behind his back.

“I’m shocked Rhys let you come here, especially with my baby sister in her condition.” Blair said without lifting her head to look at him. Eris hid his smile by lowering his head. “Or should I be worried you’ve come to steal Nesta away? She’s not here, by the way.”

The words poured out of her mouth so quickly that Elain lifted her head in wonder, the same furrow as her older sister’s she’d seen play out in her face so many times. Rhys was standing with his arms crossed on the stone walkway when Elain looked to the back doors. Not pleased, but something willing.

“Now, smart, beautiful thing.” He tsked his tongue, amusement lacing every word. “I wanted to see you, and I told you that Nesta was not what I wanted anymore.”

Blair lifted her head at that, looking down at his wretchedly beautiful face and he smiled that wicked smile at her that spoke of pure sin. The level of her belief was in her eyes.

Whatever he offered that was big enough for Rhys to allow him to come to Velaris, she didn’t believe it would be just for her. Eris had given something to gain something— that’s what they all said of him.

“I told him I’d spoil our fun and tell my father of our plans or he could let me see you and I’d send a legion tomorrow for him to direct.” Eris added, as if reading her mind or face or body. She forced herself to keep looking at him.

“I could have met with you somewhere else.”

“Would you have? Left this place?” A raise of his brows.

Blair didn’t know, she didn’t know why she said it. Why her tongue just moved before she could think with him. Her eyes said as much and then a sudden, unknown, panic filled her and the life guttered so quickly from her eyes.

“It is safer here anyway.” Eris said lightly a few seconds later, followed by a quiet sigh.

There was a thin white gash along his cheek, almost healed, but it wasn’t there the last time she’d seen him. Blair remembered every inch of his face whether she wanted to or not. A face that followed her.

“No gift to try and sweep me into a marriage with you?” She said as gently as she could, face a bit flat.

“I thought I gave you one.” Eris smiled and at Blair’s squinted eyes, he continued. She closed her book and tossed it to the ground, narrowly missing him as it thudded to the ground. “Our dances, I did give you three I believe. Is that not the correct number in the mortal realm when a male is courting a female?”

The female blinked down at him, pausing as she swung her legs over the side of the branch, face drawing ever tighter and then she couldn’t control it.

It was the wording that sent her laughing she supposed. The sound rich and full of life, not empty and deserted or even strained, a song that skittered over Eris’s skin. Soft and silky as a fawn’s coat, gentle and easy as a gliding dove.

“I suppose,” Blair started, grunting slightly as she slid on her stomach— using the little strength she had in her arms to hold tight to the trunk she was dangling from. “—if we were in the mortal realm.” Blair panted slightly and Eris’s mouth formed a tight line as he watched the female struggling to climb back to the ground.

Her palms quickly formed indents from the grooves and bumps and ridges she clung to, nails digging into the wood.

“But,” Slipping slowly, trying to find a place for her dangling bare feet to land or stick to so she didn’t drop seven or eight feet right to the grass. The thin sleeves of her dress catching and snagging on sharp ribs in the bark. “—I so graciously have the rest of my immortal life ahead of me,”

“Would you…” Eris’s hands trail off as he watched, hands behind his back and head tilted.

“I have choices, to make—” Blair interrupted, toes splaying as she reached and reached for the next thing down but there was just nothing. “So I think it fair I take,” She huffed, hands slipping and sweating as she tried to grapple. “My,”

Eris raised an amused brow to her backside, arms crossing over his chest as he just watched. Her full body dangling there and then Blair yelped, right hand slipping and then she was falling with a gasp.

Eris was there a second later, large hands firmly gripping her waist as her knees bent over something. Scratching up her hands as she went, skin ripping on the rough bark and she grappled for anything. Body twisting.

It was Eris who caught her, who she tangled herself onto so she wouldn’t slam against the ground. Panting, heart beating, arms around his neck before she looked at him.

Blue, rust-flecked eyes met amber ones.

“Time.” She whispered, staring at his face. He’d caught her. She couldn’t tell if it was her pulse she could feel inside her hand, or his, as it held to the junction between his neck and shoulder. His eyes flicked down.

“Yellow was a choice, my dear Blair.” She scrambled from his arms, dropping another foot before touching the ground as she stood on her own again.

“I like yellow.” She spoke quietly, brushing her hands along her dress and halting when it streaked the fabric with a dirty red. Looking up at him with a breath, she crossed her arms instead.

“Beautiful as a rare star, then.”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“What is it you want, Eris?”

The male nearly fell to his knees at the look in her eyes, the sound of his name on her tongue for the first time.

Out loud, that is. He’d rewatched her beautiful lips play with it in his head for the past month, over and over. Kept it for himself, for when he was alone or bored or…

Eris feigned a pout.

“No polite courtier? I just saved you, my fair damsel.” He said, face serious until he smiled again and Blair started walking back towards the house. Rhys mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk as he watched.

“I do not need saving, the worst that would have happened was a few scratches or a bruise. I would have lived.” Even if she didn’t particularly care to. She didn’t say that out loud, though. But the despair seeped into something, she didn’t care enough to stop and think about the feeling.

“Mm,” He hummed, following behind her. “I suppose so.” He wanted to grab her, to touch and feel her beneath the flesh of his hands just because. Something inside his chest dragging him along behind her, he was not himself.

Blair just kept walking, right up the stones and the marble stairs off the back of the house, feet padding to the doors. Eris stopped at the steps where Rhys made him halt.

“Don’t let them hold you.” Eris called and she looked over her shoulder just briefly before flinging the doors open and disappearing inside the house that was warded off. Eris couldn’t follow after her if he wanted to.

“You saw her. For whatever reason you needed, she clearly did not have an interest in the same.” Rhys sighed, stepping in front of Elain subconsciously as Eris stood there— still looking into the House. “Now leave my city before I kill you, you know not to speak of this place to anyone.”

Eris was still staring after her when he disappeared in a rush of wind and warm light.

Elain looked back at the tree where her sister and the male had come through moments ago, only to find a particular trail of higher grass where Blair had walked and suddenly grown dandelions were blooming.

From the slam of the back door seconds later and the vacant yard that Elain was now left alone in, nobody else had noticed.

🏷️: @prythianpages @readychilledwine @impossibelle @anuttellaa @aelincaddel @umgatochamadopercyval @mirandasidefics

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x oc #eris vandaddy #pro eris vanserra #blair archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #cassian #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lord of bloodshed #autumn court #night court #Prythian #a court of silver flames #acosf

[tobiasdrake]

You previously anaylzed Yamcha's fighting style and the flaws he doesn't overcome. Do you have any thoughts on how Krillin fights?

Krillin's fighting style is one of my favorites, to be honest. He's a dedicated pragmatist, ready and willing to do whatever it takes to win. His techniques and strategies are deceptive and tricksy, always on the lookout for a way to circumvent the straight fight.

Krillin's fighting style is all about cutting the knot. It's just a shame that, Dragon Ball being what it is, his methods run counter to its central philosophies and so he is doomed to constant failure.

We get our first glimpse of the kind of fighter Krillin is going to be when he defeats Goku in the rock hunt on the first day of their training.

He first tries to win the competition by forging a counterfeit rock. But when the Muten-Roshi sees through that, he instead uses his counterfeit to fake out Goku and steal the real rock for himself.

He's narratively punished for this victory when his reward dinner poisons him via badly prepared pufferfish. But we see the foundations of what will become his martial style beginning to take root here.

Krillin is a tricky trickster. His goal is to be the guy still standing at the end of the fight. That's what he's here for. Though he does quickly soften up and become Goku's Male Bestie (opposited Bulma as Goku's Female Bestie), he carries this pragmatism with him as he begins to develop his skills.

Note that this is not to say Krillin isn't a capable fighter in his own right. As a pupil of Kame-senryu, he is a formidable martial artist. He begins to show the fruits of his martial training as early as the 21st Tenkaichi Budokai, where he crushes one of the monks that used to bully him in the preliminaries. He also pressures his own mentor, the Muten-Roshi, by raw skill alone.

Krillin's got the skills and he uses them. When I say he's underhanded and deceitful, I don't mean instead of fighting straight. It's a weapon in his toolbelt but not the only one. Nonetheless, it's a potent one, as he nearly defeats the Muten-Roshi via a special technique that only Krillin would devise.

Goddammit, Roshi.

He starts out using these kinds of underhanded tricks to compliment his martial arts. But as he grows as a martial artist, he begins to incorporate strategies like this into his art itself.

Aside from a brief and mostly offscreen bout with General Blue, his next significant fights are in the 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai. His fight with Chiaotzu demonstrates the way Krillin's sneakiness and martial training complement one another, as a major spotlight of it is his ki exchange with Chiaotzu.

Chiaotzu, like Tenshinhan, is a trained wielder of the Dodonpa. A lethal technique first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, designed to fire a thin ki bullet from one finger, straight through its target for a mortal blow.

To counter this, Krillin attempts to perform the Kamehameha for the very first time. Which. Is. Absolutely stupid and reckless, as the Muten-Roshi notes. Baby's First Kamehameha is a poor choice to defend himself from the Dodonpa.

Or it would be, if that were the plan.

This is Krillin's strength in action. He fakes out everyone with an in @ Me Bruh bluff and then skirts around the direct competition to blindside Chiaotzu when he isn't looking. This is what a tricky trickster martial artist looks like.

In his next match with Goku, we see Krillin's ruthless pragmatism on full display. He devises his own version of Tenshinhan's Taiyoken/Solar Flare.

And he nearly wins by a tail when he once again breaks out his weak, improvised Kamehameha.

This bluff is brilliant. He gets Goku's focus on the Kamehameha while his true goal is Goku's tail. Unfortunately for him, Goku - under advisement from both the Muten-Roshi and his Grandpa Gohan - has been training his body to rid himself of that critical flaw over the last three years. His tail no longer saps his energy when it's grabbed.

But if Goku were still the same fighter Krillin knew before, this bluff would have been game-ending for their semifinal match. Krillin's abilities both in martial arts and in knot-cutting have advanced substantially. It's just that Goku's have advanced as well.

Krillin only gets one fight in the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai. But he goes hard.

In the three years since last tournament, Krillin's devised bending ki blasts that home in on their target. Holy shit, what a stellar-

GOT YOU SUCKER THAT'S A FAKEOUT IT'S KRILLER TIME

Krillin's invented bending ki blasts that home in on their target as a distraction. Sadly for Krillin, characters at this point are beginning to distribute Bukujutsu, the Flying Technique, among themselves so surprise ringouts aren't an option anymore. Piccolo's been capable of performing Bukujutsu since his previous life.

Krillin loses the match, though he does force an admission from Piccolo that martial artists of his caliber will make the world difficult to conquer.

The next chance Krillin has to put his skills on display comes six years later when the Saiyans attack the Earth. Vegeta and Nappa grow their six Saibamen, forcing the Earthlings to entertain them by battling these veggie monsters. Tenshinhan and Yamcha handily defeat two of them, though Yamcha's killed by a surprise attack.

And then Krillin decides enough is enough and makes his move: Opening fire directly on Nappa and Vegeta with everything he's got.

A fool's attack guaranteed to fail against the insurmountable might of the Saiyan-no, wait, what's he doing?

Ha, fuck you, he was aiming for the Saibamen the whole time! Made ya look. Though he does also hit Nappa and Vegeta for good measure.

Krillin is technically the first Earthling to ever land a hit on either of these guys. Imagine that. It doesn't do shit to them, but still.

This fight also brings out Krillin's ultimate technique. The epitome of his skills, the final fruits of his labors, the be-all end-all of Krillin Techniques. You already know what I'm talking about.

This. This, right here. The Kienzan/Destructo Disc is peak Krillin. Literally a knife with which to cut the knot. Everyone else is throwing ki punches except those assassins shooting ki bullets. And Krillin stops to ask, "What if I sharpened my ki into a buzzsaw so I can slice open an opponent's flesh rather than trying to beat them at punching?"

Prior to Goku's arrival, this technique from one of the weakest fighters on this field is the closest the overconfident Nappa ever comes to defeat.

Nappa outright tries to take it like a punch. But for Vegeta paying the fuck attention, this would have taken his head clean off. Even Frieza can't resist it.

Because it's not something you resist. It's a buzzsaw. It doesn't hit, it cleaves. It's a technique that's so utterly Krillin in nature.

In fact, the entire Namek arc in general is peak Krillin. A three-way tug-of-war over the Dragon Balls between Frieza's ungodly might, Vegeta's rogue wildcard antics and deadly force, and Krillin being a tricky trickster gunning for any opportunity to scoop victory out from under them.

That Krillin wins.

This is the key to Krillin's longevity as a character. Like the rest of the cast, he eventually falls victim to inability to keep pace with Goku's advances, and becomes further and further de-emphasized from the big action pieces of Dragon Ball.

Krillin's tricky methods were rarely allowed to grant him much success in the ring due to the way they chafe against Dragon Ball's tone. This simply isn't a series where ruthless pragmatism and knot-cutting generally wins the fight. But those same methods also gave him staying power and an ability to continue influencing the plot of Dragon Ball long after he ceased to be relevant as a fighter.

Krillin's style is designed to punch above his weight class, and he's in general a tricky trickster outside of the ring too. The result of this is tremendous staying power as a weaker character brushing elbows with the titanic super gods of the cast. He may not be the clincher in a fight but there's almost always something for a pragmatist like him to do.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #krillin

[boundinparchment]

Patience

A moment between Dottore and his young daughter. Established Dottore/Original Female Character. Part of the Heretic and Forsaken series. On AO3 here.

“Ya ruhi” > “my soul”

“Abi” > “Father”

A faint tugging barely tore Zandik’s attention away from the report in front of him. Without breaking his focus, he spoke softly, only enough edge in his voice to warn, never scare.

“Remember: be gentle.”

“Blue,” came the reply, proud and excited.

“Yes, that’s blue. What else is blue, ya ruhi?” he prompted.

“Hair!”

Out of the corner of his eye, the Harbinger caught a tiny hand reaching for his hair. She was dexterous for her age, eager and excited; however, she didn’t know her strength and Zandik was well aware of the consequences of it. Deftly, he reached up and redirected her hand so she gripped his fingers instead.

“Yes, my hair is blue. So is yours.”

He skimmed the rest of the report and then cast the paper aside. There was still plenty to do, especially in the aftermath of it all. He needed to oversee soil and water samples for traces of elemental energy, evaluate Leyline flare-ups from residual memories that didn’t burn properly, allocating resources and smoothing over conflicts. The latter was hardly his problem directly but Pierro would ask and it was better to have an answer ready.

Without Archons, humanity could take back the reins, finally. They would know this world and all its secrets and wonders.

It would be better. Born through revitalizing fires, sprouting from the ashes anew.

“Abi?”

It was refreshing to hear his language from someone else and caught him every time. He'd been away for so long, shunned from it, but he could never truly erase the traces. Karina emphasized that she wanted their child to know who they were, where they came from, and language was vital. He agreed (after all, he'd studied dozens of them himself) and was filled with an odd sense of pride every time he watched eyes glow when something clicked in her growing mind.

His daughter shifted in his lap and tapped her hand to his cheek softly before she experimented and brushed over the scruff he hadn’t bothered with as of late. She giggled, running her hand one way and then another. He never grew out an entire beard (too much maintenance) but some mornings, there was no time for more than scrubbing away the day’s dirt. Especially when Karina was away.

Zandik carefully pried her hand from his face and blew kisses into her palm. She squealed and his heart lurched at the sound.

This world needed more of that.

“Having fun, ya ruhi?” he teased.

Her smile was an echo of her mother’s; congenial and sweet in a way his never could be. Eyes like emeralds, so verdant that he’d been bizarrely relieved. But then he was left with the question of how recessive red eyes were after all; he would find out eventually, he supposed, if Karina was willing. Such gems contrasted with a head full of thick blue curls, her one defining and unmistakable trait of her parentage.

“Yes! Love abi!”

“I love you, too. It’s late. Do you want to—“

“‘Spection!”

The little girl threw her arms wide, narrowly missing her father’s nose. Her diction would come with time, he reminded himself as he collected her in his arms.

“Exactly. We’ll inspect the lab and make sure everything is safe. And then it’s bedtime.”

He felt the pout more than he saw it, an idle hand playing with his earring as they walked.

“Sleep is important, ya ruhi,” he chastised carefully.

She couldn’t fall into his habits. As wide as her eyes were about the world, she had time for it all. And he wouldn’t sacrifice her wellbeing for his selfishness of wanting these moments to last longer.

The quiet was better than outright protest, but only just. Her acceptance of authority made these moments easier, certainly. Soon enough, she’d be telling everyone no and seeing how far she could get.

Soon enough, she’d be too big to be carried.

Zandik shifted her slightly to rearrange his hold as he pushed open the door to the laboratory. Nothing as grand as what he had at the Palace but large enough that he could do as he needed. He went about, pointing to things and speaking clearly, letting her touch what wasn’t dangerous, asking her simple yes or no questions. Now was not the time to engage in larger topics but if she asked, he answered in ways that felt complete enough for now.

She could learn about crystalflies properly another time.

He watched her face light up as he tidied up his desk and locked away important papers. Really, the most imperative things were in his mind, but written records were crucial.

“Mama!”

An excited hand pointed to the metal arm resting on a stand atop his desk. The plating was removed, wires dangling in organized heaps, the sharp fingers angled like a claw.

“That’s right,” Zandik said before he kissed the girl’s temple. “Mama’s arm.”

Karina came back with a strained expression and the arm in her good hand. The device was made of the strongest metal and the finest circuitry; he’d crafted it with care he didn’t know he was capable of. She’d handed over the arm with an apologetic kiss and then hugged their daughter tight with her good arm, holding back an expression he hadn’t seen since…

“Abi fix mama?” She said it with an upwards inflection, the way she did when a toy broke or something went wrong. Worried for nothing except her mother being able to hug her.

Zandik held the child in his arms a little tighter.

“Yes. Yes, abi will fix mama’s arm.”

#oc: karina alexandre #dottore #il dottore #dottore x original female character #fluff #will eventually post to AO3

[strangestofthings12]

This is going to be a very rambling and venty post cause im tired and annoyed and honestly am just using this to vent my anger/hurt. there is going to be stuff that can maybe be seen as anti tommy/bucktommy (please dont tell me a ship name to put i dont care about if they do have an agreed upon ship name right now) so if you dont want that please just move on. i dont want to fight i just want to yell into the void on a stupid throw away account so i dont bring my negativity stew and come out on my main blog where i just want to enjoy my stuff and just keep happy energy. I dont normally post and try and just find someone who explains it better because im not great and getting what im saying across or understood the way i want, so please bear with me. With that said i will move on to what i want to say

Okay so i have been watching 9-1-1 for years and i love and adore it. Its characters and dynamics and i have always loved found family. Now i will admit that i started watching it thinking that Buck and Eddie were a couple and had a son so i was kinda watching for it. Do i think if i didn't start watching thinking that i would ship them still yes 100%. I have always loved their relationship and i have loved watching both Buck and Eddie grow and start to be happy while also having each others back even at the worst times. Sometimes if i think to hard about Eddie and start crying cause I'm very normal about this show and it characters. Now Eddie is my favorite character in the show and at least in my top five overall favorite characters. I love him and his development and i adore seeing how much he does to just do right by Chris even when he messes up you can tell how much he adores that boy and how badly he wants to give Chris the best life possible. I could write essays about Eddie Diaz trying to explain how much i love him and why and i think words would run out before i could finish making people understand. Buddie is my favorite ship (sometimes second depending on my mood. i would say sorry but Henren and Madney will always be amazing ships and sometimes i just cant stop think about them)(Sorry Bathena i love you too i swear i just cant decide if i wanna kiss athena or be adopted by bobby and athena:( Its confusing) and has been for quite awhile and is one of my overall favorites and its one of my comfort ships.

With that context when bi Buck happened i was so insanely happy and i wouldnt shut up about it. it made me sick. i was so happy for Buck and while i think a part of me will always be a little sad Eddie wasnt his first kiss with a guy i dont think either of them are ready for that. i also understand that it wouldnt make sense for how the story is going right now. Now i have nothing against bucktommy in the show. I have watched the kiss scene and sobbed to much to pretend like i hate them or even dislike them. However I genuinely dont care about Tommy. Hes kinda bland and i forget about him half the time and before they brought him back i completely forgot his name. in my mind he was the one that wasnt as much of an asshole to chim and hen as the other two assholes which wasnt saying a lot. Now I dont dislike tommy nor am i going to act like hes irredeemable because neither Chim nor Hen seem to think hes still that guy and while they dont seem super close they seem to get along so clearly, he's not like that anymore. I have nothing that makes me dislike him nor do I like him. He's just there. He's just the guy buck kissed. Thats all he means to me. I would give up his screen time for Ravi or May or Karen in a heartbeat. because i love them cause they mean something to me. I don't think i thought about the fact that people might actually like him especially not more than EDDIE.

This is where the context matters cause i am to my core a one ship per person girly. I might see a ship and people who like it and even think thats not a terrible ship but i will still only look at content for my ship for that person (ie. i ship Destiel (dont say anything bad about them ill cry<3) but i can see the way someone would also ship Dean and Benny or crowley or Cas and Crowley or Mick but i will ignore the ship and move on and look at more Dean and Cas). normally i will just ignore the ship and move on because im not who its for. If it gets annoying in my tag or anything like that ill block it or whoever is annoying me cause its not a them problem that i dont want to see it. When i start to have a problem is when multiple people arent tagging right for whatever reason or people who are being rude about the ship i like because of their ship. When I started seeing Bucktommy stuff more and more in the 9-1-1 tag i went to the buddie tag cause i dont want to see them. my problem is that when im reading on AO3 and click on a fic tagged Buddie where bucktommy get married. it was literally just hurting Eddie. There was stuff before like id be scrolling though the buddie tag here and see someone saying that Tommy is a better character then Eddie and saying that they hope bucktommy is endgame. Whatever block and move on. Just like always but then people who have shipped buddie for years who ive seen talk about them are suddenly saying that they like bucktommy better. People who started watching because of bucktommy saying they dont like Eddie. People are going to have different opinions but it still bugged me. and then i read that and i was just hurt because it was tagged happy ending and i cannot fathom ever thinking Eddie hurting and pining is a happy ending. So i started to get more annoyed and i hate when that happens especially with a show i love and a character i dont dislike so i tried to just move on but more and more people are taking about it then i saw someone saying that they wanted eddie to die so buck and tommy can have Chris.

I just hate that so many people are jumping on the bucktommy train and saying that they like it better than buddie something that is so good and sweet or saying that they like Tommy more than Eddie. I just dont get it cause Tommy is boring. like yeah we now some about him and he flies a helicopter but hes forgettable he could be a completely different person and next to nothing would have to change. We have seen Eddie at his worst and claw his way back up and hes finally letting himself be open and honest and soft. Eddie couldnt be replaced. Now im not saying Tommy can't be an interesting character but as he is right now?? He just isnt. Hes just as bland as every women (minus Taylor and Shannon) Buck and Eddie have dated and been hated on for no reason!!! Like i get that Tommy is a guy and we got canon Bi Buck and people are happy but those same people turn around and shit on Marisol from what ive seen(I could be wrong cause again i have done my best to avoid). Buddie fans arent safe from that either, cause we all know that Buddie fans do that but so many of those people who hated on them and said they didnt want them with anyone else suddenly decided that they were okay if Buck ended up with any guy. I dont know its just weird and i hate how many people are acting like Eddie isnt always going to be better then Tommy. Part of me wanted Tommy to stick around and help Buck and Eddie figure it all out but now?? i honestly just cant wait for him to be gone cause I want to have fun and read fics for my comfort ship and just chill where i can see all of my ships in the show without buck and tommy being everywhere or people saying crap about Eddie.

I have more to say but most of its about how gratifying waiting and seeing where this whole thing goes(Buddie season 8 PLEASE!!) and this is already why to long and i think im just going in circles and none of this makes sense so ima shut up for now and hopefully this will help it not fester and drive me insane and become a tommy hater

Edit: but i also hate that Tommy calls Buck Evan so he already had some stuff against him rip

#911 #buddie #anti bucktommy #i guess?? #i dont know #i dont know what to tag this and just hope i dont upset anyone #anti tommy kinard #again i guess #but not really?? #let me know if i need to add any tags:)

[afroclusterfunk]

This stomach pain is really eating me up. I hope the colonoscopy will shed light on things but the prep is making me shaky and weak (add it to the list of things making me sweat). I know there's the element of spirit where my sense of self is growing. When I think of my old names I feel the pain there. I'm healing thru it. It hurts. I know the stress from caring for mom makes it worse. I know the fear of thinly veiled threats. There's so much I need to do. I have plans. But most importantl, I need to lie down and try to rest so that the flare doesnt get worse.

I have $50 worth of bills each month. trying to secure meals (I have low mobility/energy when I have a flare so I need to order delivery), and I'm also trying to save for travel to a safer place $500

So far I've only raised $3 but it def helped.

If you have the spoons to boost it or the funds to support me with my basic needs and help me afford to live.

Cashapp $femmeboigarfielf

Venmo: garfgodot

Ko-fi.com/cosmickarike (credit cards/PayPal)

#I never expected I would be out of work for so long and it would be so hard #but i made it this far #and i keep finding love everywhere i look long enough #and it makes me stronger to know love is something bigger than the thing i feared #ill get thru #a threat #im gonna try to sleep again #it hurts it hurts #mutual aid #chronic illness #long covid #community #support #financial assistance #help #signal boost #black queer artist #disability #reparations #crowdfunding

[final-script]

Becoming a Daddy | Christian Pulisic

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

Sumary: Where you see Christian become a father.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!.There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later). Mentions of pregnancy.Mention of Birth , Labor.

Gif: brasiliangp

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

A part of you believed that there was no way you could fall in love with him anymore.

But you couldn't be more wrong.

As the months went by and you watched him become a father, you could see it.

(...)

From the moment he found out that a little life was forming in your womb, the care began.

During the 9 months of pregnancy and including the day your guy came into the world he was nothing but the perfect man/husband.

Whenever he wasn't away for a game or training, he stayed by your side at all times.

Attentive to any needs you might have.

And don't get me wrong, you loved how attentive he was but there were times when you had to put a brake.

(...)

Y/N- my love please stop, I can do it myself, nothing will happen to me. 

Ch- I only care about you.

Y/N- I know and understand it but... I want to do what I can as long as our little guy here lets me do it.     Caressing the small lump that was forming.

Ch- I'm sorry if I'm being a bit burdensome.

Y/N- you don't have to apologize, believe me I understand, but there are still a lot of things I can do, so for the time being, Daddy, I should be saving your energy.

Ch-daddy will save energy, as long as Mommy doesn't call him that that again, I don't want our son to witness how his parents behave.

(...)

Months went by and even though Christian hadn't been "saving" energy and even though you caught his attention on several occasions, you could say that you enjoyed every moment.

It made you value the time I was at home and it wasn't for some competition.

(...)

Luckily for our baby's day of birth, Christian was home.

To your surprise, he managed to stay calm.

When I was in your room and the contractions were not very strong but if you continue, I immediately take you to the bathroom and help you get ready.

Before you know it, you're on your way to the hospital, in the hospital, and ready to give birth.

At all times Christian was by your side.

Finally your little one came into this world.

(...)

Ch- you made it my love, our little one is finally with us.

Y/N- we made it, we were both a part of this, thank you for being there for us.

We both looked at our baby with tears of joy.

After 9 long months he was finally with us.

Ch- he's perfect.   Gently caressing her little cheek.

Y/N- is our son, what were you waiting for!

It wasn't because we were his parents, but our little boy is beautiful and if when he grows up he's just like his dad, I think there will be problems.

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

ANOTHERS

FOOTBALL MASTERLIST

Knowing Family - Julian Alvarez x Reader

#christian pulisic #ac milan #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic one shot #football x reader #football one shot #football fanfic #football imagine #footballer imagine

[yellowbunnydreams]

Masquerade (Part 1) (William Afton x F! Reader)

~Happy birthday to a fellow member of the William Afton Husband Club, awesome writer and a generally wonderful friend @ruh--roh-raggy . Happy birthday, you wonderful person! I hope your drywall survives in your flimsy American house haha~

Credit to; saradika-graphics for the page dividers.

CW: Meet-cute! William in a suit, sunshine dad energy Henry, William is older than reader, kissing a stranger(?), flirty banter, light mention of murder, soft!dom Will, predator/prey metaphors

The thick paper in your hands felt heavy when it arrived through your door. The kind of paper where the smooth yet textured surface made you think of it's quality and how expensive it probably was as the black marbled pattern embossed with golden ink in hard-to-read cursive stared back at you.

At first, you had thought it was a mistake. Some mix-up in the post that meant you had received this special thing, but your name was clearly printed on it, as was your address in golden ichor and sealed with a golden wax stamp. Did people even use wax stamps anymore? You wondered. Clearly they must do. The wax was cured in the shape of an elegant flower and eventually, you managed to prize it off with a butter-knife an keep it intact so that you could still read the letter within.

So you sat in your kitchen in your ratty pj's and eating from a bowl of cereal that you had had to sniff the milk for and you weren't even sure you had checked the date on the cereal, holding the thick paper in one hand and reading elegantly printed white ink against the black background. Almost choking as you read the contents.

'We cordially invite you to attend the charity Summer Equinox ball, you have been selected by random draw to attend due to your noted goodwill within your community and charity work.' You raised an eyebrow at that, sure you donated a couple of dollars when you could afford it here and there but it was never ground-breaking amounts of money. You continued scanning the words on the page with your curiosity growing.

'This year, the charity of choice is St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital and we have gathered many like minded people from across multiple sectors. Whilst we encourage socialisation, it is reminded that the ball is a masquerade and one cardinal rule must be followed; that you must never reveal who you are whilst on the property.'

Now you were especially curious. A masquerade ball at a mysterious property that you were not supposed to know who was attending? It sounded almost like the plot to some cheesy horror movie you once saw, or perhaps the beginning of some silly romance novel you started reading on Wattpad that never got finished. But as you shovelled the last bites of cereal into your mouth you were more focused on the dress code and the thrill of excitement that ran through you at the opportunity.

'Participants will be given a mask on arrival. Please find attached a gift card to purchase appropriate attire in the black-tie range.'

Even if it resulted with somebody's hands deep in your guts for some absurd sacrifice, you decided that you were going because you weren't sure you would ever get the opportunity to do this again and honestly the chance to participate in something that sounded straight out of novel sounded right up your alley.

The dress had been purchased and you had found another letter at your door the day after it's purchase. The same white ink on black paper, sealed in golden wax. This time it was instructions for the ball instead, instructing that you must keep the dress in the box it had been neatly placed in and that you were to bring it with you when you were picked up as you would be allowed to change at the venue.

"It's almost like they don't trust me with the expensive stuff." You chuckled to the empty house when you read it, wincing at the receipt on the box and shaking your head.

But the night had arrived sooner than anticipated and the butterflies in your stomach were undeniable as you watched the limo pull up outside and climbed inside, clutching the invitation and your dress to your chest firmly as the driver nodded silently to you and began the drive. Soft music playing in the background as you were glad you had charged your phone for the journey, unsure how long it would take. You were almost surprised to look up at one point and recognise the town you were driving through, the ancient red-brick and domed roof of the library that had been acquisitioned by the university after a fire wiped most of the original features from the building sitting proudly in the approaching skyline. Face practically pressed to the cool glass as you watched the lights inside dazzling against the still pale summer sky and several people in formal looking suits stood on the white stone steps.

The limo pulled up outside of it, and you yelped as the door was pulled open to who you assumed was staff, their face partially obscured by the presence of a simple black eye-mask. Feeling your cheeks heating up as they extended a silent hand and allowed you to pick up the box before exiting the vehicle and guiding you up the steps towards the looming building. Wondering how late it would have to get before the sky turned dark and the place lit up.

"Welcome! You must be the guest we were told about." One of the staff greeted, a younger woman in an elegant black cocktail dress and a golden pin on her chest, also in a black mask as you nodded slightly dumbly. Her red curls were pinned to perfection, and you were envious that she looked so put together and well practised in heels as she tapped a clipboard and gestured for you to follow. "Come with me please, we have much preparation to do."

The marble floors clicked beneath her heels as you struggled to keep up with her long strides, feeling your heart pounding as you looked around as quickly as your guide would allow. Scanning the glass cases filled with some of the original library books, the plaques dedicated to the university to the painstaking restoration done by staff and students to try and preserve the history. If there was a place to pick to host a ball near to you, this was it.

You almost bumped into the woman as she suddenly stopped, turning on her heels and peering through the mask before gesturing to the heavy oak door in front of her.

"This is where you'll be getting ready tonight. Me and my team will assist you." Her voice was cool and clipped, professional as your brow furrowed in confusion.

"Team?"

"Yes, we're going to help you put on the dress and do your make-up and hair for you this evening."

"But...it's a masquerade? Nobody will see my face." Your confused tone clearly amused her as the professional neutrality broke for a moment with a small smirk before she cleared her throat and placed a thin hand on your back, guiding you inside.

"Whilst...technically yes, you are correct, people will still see your mouth and eyes. It helps with any guests who might have issues with hearing to communicate." She explained, letting you into the cool, dark room before your eyes adjusted to the change in light and revealed a well furnished, old fashioned study. The walls panelled in some heavy, dark wood and the smell of old books cloying with sweet incense and perfumes that you didn't recognise.

Inside, there were several woman gathered around a small table and a vanity that had been set up, all looking up as you entered and giving a polite smile under the same masks and similar dresses that you figured was the dress-code for the staff for the evening as you were guided to the chair in front of the vanity and your dress box was taken from you so that a cape could be tied around your shoulders.

"Now, miss, you are going to know the joy of creation." The red head smiled over your shoulder in the mirror, and you blinked as you tried to figure out where you had heard those words before.

"Sorry?"

"We're going to make you so beautiful, you'll be our own little Cinderella." One of the others giggled, brandishing a bottle of facial cleanser and some cotton pads as they approached.

"Now, sit still and let us work!"

"Yeah, just call us your fairy-godmothers for tonight!"

Whatever the staff had done to you had worked wonders by the time you could hear extra guests arrive in the hallway outside. Who knew that portable salon basins were a thing?

"Your hair always looks the best when you've just come from a salon trip you feel slightly guilty for spending the money on!" One of the ladies had explained to you, and as you looked at your hair neatly pinned up and framing your features perfectly, the right amount of shine and lustre to it, you couldn't argue with their logic.

The dress was a deep green, tight to your body and made of silk with a slit running up the leg to expose it. The bodice wrapped in small ivy-like lace that gave you a sort of 'goddess of the forest' vibes as you had been handed your mask, a silver filigree bunny that covered the top half of your face. Eyes lightly coated in a green eyeshadow and a deep red lipstick that somehow made your lips look even more plump. You felt like a million bucks. You felt like you could spend a million bucks too with what a good job they had done.

But you were soon stood at the main door to the hall. Heart fluttering in your chest nervously as your hand rested on the cold iron knocker and you swallowed. You were unsure if you were really ready to embark on such a daring adventure.

It would be a shame to put the dress to waste though.

As the door pushed open, your senses were assaulted with the sounds of people talking a laughing in the grand hall. Bathed in warm light under the dome skylight that revealed the slowly deepening summer sky. It did look like something out of a fairy-tale as you looked at the large, wooden bookshelves around the walls of the room filled with leather-bound tomes and carefully draped with bouquets of off-white roses and green ivy. Flashes of green, gold, silvers and coppers mixing with black and white. A band of neatly dressed and pressed musicians forming an orchestra towards the back as you descended the stairs.

Unlike Cinderella however, you were grateful that there were only a few eyes that turned towards you curiously. Trying to keep your balance in your small heels and navigate with a sense of grace and your posture elegant but not drawing too much attention to yourself as you navigated towards the bar that had been set up in a little alcove of the grand library.

There were already two men stood at the worn down wood, chatting amicably with each other. The shorter of the two with a gold bear mask, his arm wrapped around a woman in a deep red dress that matched his suit that you assumed must be a husband and wife..or perhaps just very well co-ordinated dates. But the taller of them caught your eye for a moment, his silver eyes widening behind his mask as they flickered over you so quickly you weren't entirely sure that you had even seen it.

"Are you ready for the performance tonight?" The woman asked as you stood to one side and glanced at the menu, wincing at some of the prices despite the sign that stated some of the profits went to charity from the bar. The taller one carefully adjusted the black leather gloves as he spoke, like he was considering something.

"Of course we are, darling! It's going to be spectacular and it's going to be magical!" The one with dark curls laughed, adjusting his bear mask and leaning onto the woman and planting a kiss on her semi-exposed cheek. Earning him a light smack on the arm as the taller one chuckled lowly. A sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and stomach twist in nervous knots.

"Yes, I've done all the safety checks three times over. There is nothing that could go wrong unless some idiot spills their drink on us." His voice was deep and gravelly, with an accent you couldn't place, that voice was something you were sure you would love to hear again as you tried to focus on the drinks options and wondering if you should just ask what you could get for less than three dollars.

"Well, we have more people to go 'meet', why don't you have some fun?" The one in red laughed, gesturing to the wider hall and whisking away the woman with him. Feeling some of the tension you didn't know you were holding in your body leaving before you let your attention fully return to the task in hand.

After a few moments however, your brow furrowed as you felt eyes linger on you. Turning your head to see the taller man left behind and watching you. His golden mask catching the light as he leaned against the bar and his serious expression quirked into a small smile before he shoved away from it and made what seemed like small steps towards you. Towering over your smaller frame before he settled back against the bar again, forcing you to look up at him.

"May I have your name, sweetheart?" The taller man asked, your eyes wandering over the golden rabbit mask over the top half of his face, still able to make out his greying salt and pepper hair and beard. Those intense grey eyes that had a slight squint to them like he was without glasses that he needed.

"Ah ah, the whole point of a masquerade is that we don't know who that person is." You wagged your fingers disapprovingly, unsure of where the confidence had come from, and the man laughed, his broad chest straining through his tight black shirt, the matching black waistcoat tailored to his body as he rolled his sleeves up to reveal his thick forearms, covered in thin silvery scars and thick coarse hair. You couldn't help but think that they were the kind of forearms that you knew would hug you right, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Those black gloves tightening over his large hands and hearing the faint sound of leather creaking as he held onto his elbows.

"You're very right, and so I shall have to name you 'Miss Bunny' for tonight...given your mask and all." Gesturing to your own mask that you had been given for the night. A silvery copy of his own.

"Then you shall be Mr. Rabbit." The older man smiled, making your heart flutter slightly in your chest as he chuckled deeply. "Hmm..I like it. Well, Miss Bunny, may I get you something to drink?"

"Oh no I couldn't-"

"I insist. And plus, you've been staring at that rather short menu for the past five minutes like you're contemplating every penny in that purse...although I have to say I can't tell where you would even keep money in that stunning dress."

Your cheeks were heating up at he called the dress stunning, feeling his eyes raking over you again before you giggled and shook your head, deciding to be a little bolder than you might have been had you not had the mask to hide behind.

"Mr.Rabbit! It's rude to ask about a lady's finances...unless you're proposing a dowry?" The man blinked for a moment before he let out a deep laugh, doubling over slightly and making your cheeks heat up as a few heads snapped your way at the sudden sound. Turning himself towards the bartender and gesturing them over before giving you a wolfish grin.

"Feisty little bunny, I like that. A scotch on the rocks for me, and...a bourbon cherry for the little lady here." He pulled a wallet from his slacks pocket and his thick fingers nimbly pulled out a few notes to lay on the bar. Unable to stop yourself from watching his hands as he moved them. "So, you look terrified little bunny. Do you need some company to keep you from the wolves?" That damn smile flashing again as you tutted.

"Wolves? You're quite mistaken Mr. Rabbit, what if I'm a wolf in disguise?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and making the older man chuckle as he leaned it, the drinks arriving on the bar as he came close enough that you could smell the spicy, earthy cologne that he wore. And something faintly like motor oil beneath it.

"I know predators when I see one, Miss. Bunny, and you are far from one. They're the go-getters, the ones who'll seize life by the throat and tear out their own opportunities should they not be offered up."

"Maybe it's you who's in disguise then." Your voice soft as you picked up the cocktail glass with the thin red liquid inside and a cherry run through on a stick, picking it up to bite the fruit before a leathered hand wrapped around your wrist and made you gasp, heart pounding loudly in your ears as his large hand easily held onto you and he leaned it.

Those silver eyes focused on you and flashed with mischief and something dark as he opened his mouth and wrapped his long tongue around the cherry before closing his lips around it and pulling it free from the stick. Leaving you dumbfounded as he leaned in so close you swore you could smell the sweet tartness of the fruit on his breath, setting your knees weak and making your chest tighten as he whispered softly.

"Perhaps.... But I think I'll enjoy seeing you again tonight, Miss. Bunny. Unfortunately, I have a performance to get ready for." Standing up slowly and releasing your wrist slowly, his finger stroking along the delicate skin inside your wrist and leaving you breathless, swallowing softly as he adjusted his gloves and black waistcoat. Giving you a wink and lopsided grin before running one hand through his salt and pepper hair and moving back into the crowd with his own drink.

The room suddenly felt hot as you felt your cheek with your free hand, taking a shaky sip of your drink and finding some comfort for your racing heart-beat in the tart and smoky flavours. Staring after the golden rabbit with the hope that you would find him again before the night was over.

#william afton #william afton x reader #steve raglan #springtrap #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #springtrap x reader #william afton x you #fnaf x reader

[koolades-world]

Hi!! Hope you're having a good day! May I ask for levi with some sort of anime girl type hoodie and reader asking him to get rid of it because their jealous?

hello! of course :)

enjoy!

Me? Jealous?

Levi was looking forward to his gaming session with you that evening. You'd been seemingly very busy the past week, so he hadn't gotten a chance to snag your sole attention at all. He hated having to vie for your affections during the day with his brothers, so instead he sent you a text to ask if you were up to play games. He was overjoyed when you said yes.

Right after dinner, he set off to his room to tidy up. After throwing away the several empty energy drink cans and chip bags, and wiping every controller down, he let you know he was ready when you were. You showed up to his room soon enough with a smile on your face.

"Levi!" You peaked in through the crack in the door he'd made to check who'd knocked. He fully opened the door and promptly shut it behind you.

"Hey Mc." He found himself grow increasingly nervous as you threw your arms around him. You'd known each other for so long now, yet every time he turned to putty under your touch.

"You have any games in mind?" After they backed up, he noticed your expression fall a little, causing him to panic. What had he done? Maybe you'd finally realized you'd rather hang out with Mammon or Asmo. They were much more fun anyways.

"Yes... no! I meant no." He stumbled over his words after remembered he had to speak.

"If you had something in mind, let's do that. You're the expert after all." You grabbed his arm and dragged him towards his gaming setup. Eventually, after some coaxing from you, he showed you what he wanted to do with you, so that's what you spend your evening doing. A few times during the evening, he thought he saw you give him some side glances, but he brushed it off because you seemed happy enough.

Once you’d done what he wanted, and you were both growing tired of that particular activity, Levi suggested rewatching a favorite anime of yours. After he put it on, he only got halfway through the first episode before letting his thoughts run rampant again. He was certain they were giving him side glares now. The anxiety of the situation began to eat away at him, crippling any confidence he had. After he caught you full on staring at him, he knew he had to say something.

“Mc?” He turned his head to meet your gaze.

“Hmm?” You seemed as if you’d just woken up from a stupor of some kind.

“Are you… alright?” He held his breath waiting for your response.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” They shifted their body towards him. Silence filled the room. He has no clue where to go from there. He didn’t think he’d get that far to be honest.

He could only muster up a small “Alright.” Way to go genius! What a smart way to answer a question. But, he just couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth again for anything that wasn’t sad, deflated balloon-esque noises. The pair stared at each other now, neither speaking. Eventually, you finally said something.

"I'm sorry. It's just be being dumb." You looked away from him, sneaking glances. He remained silent. You sighed, and continued despite seeming to not want to. "It's just... your hoodie." He looked down suddenly at what he was wearing. It was just some generic anime girl on a hoodie. It had been a gift from Mammon, and when he says he scoured the internet for he, he found nothing. She wasn't a real character and while he didn't actually know where he got it from, he had his guesses.

"What?" Was all he could muster. He felt like he looked incredibly stupid, kind of like a fish with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"She's not a character I've seen in your room before." Levi could sense there was more you wanted to say, but kept dancing around the topic. As he thought more about your words and the expression on your face, the lightbulb above his head finally lit up.

"OH." With that realization, he began to panic and immediately tried to take off the hoodie, only to remember he wasn't actually wearing anything underneath. He quickly pulled it back down and decided to turn his back to you instead.

"Levi! You don't have to take it off, you know." You put your hand on his shoulder.

"If you're jealous, then I need to. I know what that feels like. It's not a good feeling. You shouldn't have to feel that if you don't need to." The words that came out of his mouth were more poetic than usual. For a second, you were unsure on how to respond.

"Thanks. You're really sweet. Now, do you want me to get out while you change?" You began to giggle as his face turned beet red. He quickly ushered you out of the room, causing you to laugh more, but as soon as you were out of the room, you dwelled on the warm, fuzzy feelings Levi gave you. You were so lucky to have him in your life.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me levi #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me! shall we date #obey me levi fluff #levi obey me #levi obey me fluff #obey me levi x reader

[azrielgreen]

I am genuinely so impressed by how you are juggling so many projects. What is your writing process like for that? I remember you sharing about how you romanticize the process but like how much time is given to each project? Is it based on where the dopamine leads you during the day? How do you maintain the discipline? How much of a project is mapped before you start drafting and editing? It is so hard to create and i just *genuinely* admire your work ethic so much.

Hi, oh thank you so much, that's really kind of you! So, juggling multiple projects is still new to me, I've only ever had 1 or 2 at once before but the last year has taught me a LOT about how to manage it, how to roll with the punches and the importance of balance.

TL;DR this became a ramble so I summarised:

3 hours a day

dopamine led but with consistent rewards in place

discipline countered with indulgent self care

embracing change and new inspiration

not comparing to others

making work space very pleasing and comfortable

trust you will do it because you've done it before

romanticise

stay open to the universe

you've never failed unless you give up completely - it's fine to miss a deadline, life is very short and it's better to be healthy, happy and inspired than burnt out and sick. take it slow, enjoy it, work when you can and reward yourself CONSTANTLY.

So, time wise, I will try to dedicate at least 3 hours a day to one single project and I'll try to keep it one project per week otherwise my head is all over the place. It's usually dopamine led as following joy is key to my energy levels, but I have also learnt the past year to discipline myself and adapt to a constant flow of creation.

I maintain the discipline by treating myself as wonderfully as I possibly can. I still and always will romanticise everything I do and make it fun; all frills, self indulgent and lovely. Having a space I love that's set up well is hugely important for me. My desk area is amazing now that I've worked on it for well over a year.

One of the best things for crafting discipline but not losing the joy is the THRILL of achievement. When I complete something, i feel amazing and that spurs me on. I cultivate multiple ideas as indulgently as I can and expose myself to a lot of new inspiration. If something doesn't work or feels not good? I give myself the freedom to change it up and the confidence to know that no matter what, it'll work out beautifully so long as I keep going because it always has. There were times during Touched I would CRY it was so hard to write and I was so distracted.

Knowing you can do something because you've already done it is an incredibly powerful little power up that I use often to give myself a boost.

But honestly, overall, I really do romanticise my life in general. I make beautiful things, I love what I write, I'm so grateful for everything and always open to new ideas and I never close myself off by comparing, doubting or clinging too hard to what felt good before. I give myself space to realise that I'm constantly changing and growing and that my writing reflects that which is SO exciting!! I think honestly, I'm my biggest fan. I hype myself, reward myself and treat writing like a blissful escape, which it is, even when it's 7 hours non-stop for a story I am very ready to be done with.

The most important thing about maintaining this level of output (for me) is giving myself space to mess up a little, to miss a deadline, to delay posting and not feel awful. 'You're Divine' is one of the greatest writing lessons I've ever learned, in that just because you can physically write 25k+ a week doesn't mean you SHOULD. Towards the end I had made myself very ill. I won't ever do that again. It's never a failure, unless you give up completely. Life is very short, it's difficult to feel inspired when you're hard on yourself. Treat yourself like the person you love most in this world. Be a little selfish, lean in where you're weird and praise it to the skies.

Thanks so much again!

Love, Az

💜💜💜

#askaz

[quitealotofsodapop]

Imagine if, in post jttw egg au, they'd already gone through the whole "Guanyin is the reincarnation of my mom" bit back when MK was still a cub himself. Like, Guanyin has Wukong and newborn Xiaotian checked out, and Lao Tzu realizes something is weirdly familiar about the newborn cub and Wukong's dao. A few checks later and a trip to Diyu, and suddenly, it's an open secret that Wukong is, somehow, a long, lost imperial prince. Wukong proceeds to give his newly discovered maternal grandfather and grandmother the most hateful and burning glare he can muster when still fresh from the delivery room and makes it clear he and his family want NOTHING to do with the Jade Court or it's crown after all the shit they put him through. And, all things considered, they respect that... mostly. They still send him invites to almost every event (most of whichhe burns), and his newly discovered cousins/already kind of sort of sibling figures the Peach Maidens, Erlang, and Nez Ha take every opportunity to visit

Link to the main Stone Matriarch post.

ohohoho, I love the idea of just post-Jttw (perhaps even immediately after the Samadhi Fire ritual) Wukong ends up in 24-hour care up in Heaven almost like the Century Stone Egg au. Dangerously zapped of his life energy/dao with his mate and friends at his side, the major difference being the timeframe/fallout.

Wukong and Macaque, and the Pilgrims learn of Wukong's connection to Guanyin, and the Celestial royal family as a whole, and they immediately laugh out loud before going back to the mortal world. They have zero interest in involving themselves nor their little hatched Egg in that nonsense. The wounds (physical and emotional) of Wukong's burning, and of the Mountain, are far too fresh for Wukong to stand the celestials right now. He'll make sure to keep his cub far away from them.

And the slap to the face it is to the Emperor and Queen Mother is Immense.

They just discovered that one of their greatest annoyances is their legal/celestial grandson, a piece of their first lost daughter, and he's just graced them with a great-grandchild - only to look at these facts and decide "Nah" and leave for the world of the mortals.

The Entire Jade Court keeps quiet about this open secret out of fear of the royals anger.

Erlang, Nezha, and the Orchard Maidens visit FFM frequently. Little Xiaotian and his siblings grow up with many family members from "the other side" that they see at almost every birthday or holiday, but wonders why they can never visit them directly in the Celestial Realm. The cubs, Mei, and Red Son grow up assuming its the celestials prejudice against demonkind and bad history between their families.

Unfortunately the bad blood that boils leads to DBK's imprisonment about 500 years before the main story. The exact details of his rampage left unclear.

Xiaotian and the cubs grow up with the truth of The Stone Matriarch Shíhuā being their maternal grandmother, and her Consort their maternal grandfather. Guanyin had long since gifted Wukong with visits from his mother's spirit, and the cubs see the goddess as a bonus grandparent-figure. The Eclipse twins found Yē Lín's cavern on complete accident when messing with their newly discovered shadow powers, subsequently leading to the discovery of Wukong's unhatched little brother Luzhen. Honestly Xiaotian doesn't think his family history could get any weirder.

At least until the events of S3/4 leads Xiaotian to the Emperor's throne room where he meets a his spirtual great-grandparents for the first time...

#post jttw stone egged #jttw stone egged #stone matriarch au #sun wukong #liu er mihou #qi xiaotian #lmk mk #six eared macaque #lmk guanyin #lmk xiwangmu #lmk queen mother of the west #shadowpeach #shadowpeach as parents #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid