#Post-migration support

[websyn]

A Strategic Approach to Cloud Migration: How Web Synergies Ensures a Seamless Transition

In today’s fast-paced digital landscape, businesses are increasingly recognising the need for a well-planned cloud migration strategy. Moving operations to the cloud isn’t just about upgrading technology—it’s a critical step towards improving efficiency, scalability, and resilience. However, without expert guidance, this transition can present unforeseen challenges. At Web Synergies, we’ve fine-tuned our approach to ensure that cloud migration is a smooth, secure, and beneficial process for businesses of all sizes.

Why Cloud Migration Matters

As industries embrace digital transformation, cloud adoption has become essential for organisations to remain competitive. A successful cloud migration enables:

Increased Operational Efficiency: Cloud solutions allow businesses to streamline operations, reduce downtime, and eliminate costly on-premises hardware.

Enhanced Data Security: Today’s cloud platforms come with advanced security measures to protect sensitive data and ensure compliance with industry standards.

Scalability and Flexibility: With cloud infrastructure, businesses can effortlessly scale resources to meet changing demands and support growth.

However, the journey to the cloud requires careful planning and a tailored approach. That’s where Web Synergies stands out.

Web Synergies’ Proven Cloud Migration Strategy

Our team at Web Synergies understands that every business has unique requirements and goals. By focusing on a strategy-driven migration process, we ensure that each step aligns with your specific business objectives. Here’s how we do it:

Assessment and Planning The foundation of a successful migration is a thorough assessment. We begin by evaluating your existing infrastructure, identifying critical applications, and pinpointing potential challenges. Our team creates a migration roadmap that prioritises business continuity and minimises disruption.

Customised Migration Pathway Whether you’re moving to a public, private, or hybrid cloud, Web Synergies tailors the migration pathway to best suit your organisational needs. Our customised approach ensures that your business enjoys the full benefits of the cloud without unnecessary complications.

Data Security and Compliance In today’s digital age, data security is paramount. Web Synergies employs the latest security protocols, ensuring your data remains safe throughout the migration. Our compliance-focused solutions meet industry standards, offering peace of mind that your information is protected.

Optimising and Testing A seamless transition means thorough testing. Before the full migration, we conduct rigorous testing to identify and resolve any issues. This ensures a stable and optimised cloud environment tailored to your specific needs.

Post-Migration Support Our commitment doesn’t end once the migration is complete. We provide ongoing support to help you navigate your new cloud environment, optimise costs, and leverage advanced cloud features for enhanced productivity.

Benefits of Choosing Web Synergies for Cloud Migration

Partnering with Web Synergies means more than just moving to the cloud. It’s about setting your business up for success in a digital-first world. Here’s what sets us apart:

Proven Expertise: Our seasoned team has a wealth of experience across various industries, ensuring a smooth migration that fits your needs.

Future-Ready Solutions: We design scalable cloud solutions that not only support your current requirements but are flexible enough to adapt to future demands.

Enhanced Agility: With our cloud migration services, your business gains the agility to respond quickly to market changes, fostering innovation and growth.

Embrace the Cloud with Confidence

Migrating to the cloud is a significant step in your business’s digital journey. With Web Synergies’ strategic approach, you can make this transition confidently, knowing you have a partner committed to your success. From assessment and planning to post-migration support, we’re here to ensure that your journey to the cloud is seamless and secure.

Ready to take your business to new heights with cloud migration? Partner with Web Synergies today to experience a smooth, strategic, and secure move to the cloud.

[wujekfoliarz]

Mhm, it does appear that an introduction post is the proper thing to do

PL/ ENG ; Pole, born and raised in Poland, somewhat fluent in both. #1 capital letters and gramatically correct sentences fan

DNI - Political extremists (TERFs/Tankies included). The rest (proship) has rather blurry borders, people define things in many different ways. Blocking based on vibes

When it comes to internet names - in Polish, simply, Wujek/Foliarz. Those two can be easily translated into english as Uncle/Truther respectively. To not make it weird, just go by the second option. Masc/neutral pronouns

I do not consume NSFW content. Dont make it awkward by reblogging with a blog full of things that would give a post-medieval eastern european peasant a cardiac arrest. Not put in DNI category, as the borders are damm blurry

My main interests include, with ones for this main blog in a funky color:

Biology, including paleology and spec evo. Commonly found in Bugblr community

Geography, geology (The only rocks with an "aura" are the radioactive and toxic ones)

Worldbuilding, including writing. My side account may write about it sometimes, however as of now, my worldbuilding project does not have any proper, public documentation

Balanced pain simulators, such as S.T.A.L.K.E.R. and The Long Dark

Half Life franchise and universe

Minecraft (especially modding)

Game, art design

Late 20th century Polish sung poetry (Kaczmarski + others) - considering how many there are of these, I feel like that counts as a interest. Yes, I know the controversies.

Please note that my "PC" has worse specs than Soviet building-sized bricks. Heated up some water and made ramen with it when trying to launch and play GTNH. Thus, there are many games that I simply cannot play at all

As of now, the blogs and public accounts on other sides:

@wujekfoliarz - Main blog

@trutheroffside - Side blog, "no fandom" ; Spec bio, worldbuilding, thoughts on random things, deep or not. Both PL/ENG posts, however they (2 as of now) are nice and sorteable by language

https://pl.pinterest.com/WujekFoliarz/ - Pinterest account, all art, no shame

https://www.reddit.com/user/FoliarzZOdludzia/ - Reddit account. Its reddit, browsing a reddit account is messy due to how the website operates. Main allure is "stonetossingjuicing", which is a subtrope of BHJ (Bonehurtingjuicing). Those were discontinued on Pinterest

Some might call this post a rather "plain one", however, I know better than to put all sensitive information, such as mental disorders, up for the public

Havent forgot anything, have I?

[ma7moudgaza2]

How can I contribute to thwarting the displacement plan?

During the genocide they carried out, the occupation deliberately and extensively destroyed all the foundations of life:

-Water -Electricity -Hospitals -Schools -Homes -Sewage networks -Streets -Communications

The primary goal was (to make Gaza uninhabitable). After this massive destruction, you are now forced to travel and leave the immense destruction in Gaza behind, and this is called voluntary displacement.

For two reasons:

-Gaza has been completely destroyed and is uninhabitable. -Rebuilding Gaza will take at least 10 years (after the war ends; I noticed that most American newspapers were the only ones saying that rebuilding Gaza would take 40 years), and this is an attempt to achieve the primary goal, which is (migration). But it is not explicitly migration; it's travel, but long-term.

Returning to the main point of the post, how can you contribute to thwarting the displacement plans?

The only way is to support us in Gaza with all your time, money, and effort.

When you contribute, for example, to buying household necessities, providing water tanks, providing solar energy, or trying to repair partially damaged houses, you are, in this way, reducing the likelihood of achieving the primary goal of the gen.ocide we have lived through for the past 500 days.

Therefore, we are collecting donations so that we can remain steadfast in Gaza and overcome the displacement plans, and you can overcome these plans by donating to us and empowering us on the land.

Fundraiser || PayPal || Vetting1 || Vetting2

@g0at0ad @gothhabiba @feluka @raangmanch

@kiirodora @tiredguyswag @corpsenurse

@virovac @sayruq @irhabiya @sar-soor

[moyazaika]

Fangdokja baby, unblock me, will you? I just wanna talk :)

Genocide. Antisemitism. Concentration camps. White supremacy. Islamophobia. The klu klux klan. Conversion therapy. Pedophilia.

Listed above, my loves, are only a few of the topics FD hopes to write about when it migrates platforms and leaves tumblr. (I mean thank christ. baruch hashem. alhamdulillah. we're finally free.)

FD says quite explicitly and at length that she has been, in her own words, holding back from writing about such topics due to tumbr guidelines and not, as she makes sure to let us know multiple times and very explicitly so, because of a "lack of desire” on her own part.

Huh. Okay, interesting.

Say, FD, why have you been holding back on writing about the very painful and devastating realities that billions of people in the world face every single day as if they are trivial topics and fanfiction tags you have been permitted to use? :)

Maybe I'm missing something here. Fill me in, won’t you? Why could you have possibly been yearning to write about little kids in a sexual context? How did you put it? Ohhh, yeah;

Infants? So close! That’s actually CSAM babes!

This is not even about yandere content anymore. It’s about your sheer ignorance and prejudice which prevents you from seeing just how fucked up of a person you are. Jesus did not ask you to trivialise and sensationalise incredibly sensitive experiences and prejudices that you will never understand nor live through.

You know what your religion does say, though?

1 Corinthians 10:23 NIV; "I have the right to do anything," you say—but not everything is beneficial. "I have the right to do anything, but not everything is constructive."

Think on that, won’t you? :)

Let me end this by saying, as a dark content writer myself, I firmly reject the idea of censorship and pirating fictional content both when it is created and when it is consumed.

However, I'm also not a fucking idiot.

When adults use their critical thinking skills to separate fiction from reality, I'm all for the exploration/unpacking/interrogation of taboo topics. It is very dangerous to condemn people for what they choose to write as an expression of their artistic abilities or personal experiences.

Fiction ≠ Reality. This idea is nothing new, and rightfully so. Everyone should be able to write what they want.

But a Christian woman shamelessly expresses homophobia? Has said very clearly in the past that the reader inserts in her posts will only ever be written as being pale, skinny, teenagers in mind? And now she wants to turn around and say she's writing about topics like conversion therapy and racism and expects anyone to believe it's from a purely creative standpoint?

Omg baby you must think we're all as moronic as you :(

Your vendetta, FD, is clear as day, and your vindication is utterly disgusting.

I condemn you.

I condemn your content.

I condemn the 'creative freedom' under which you and your supporters will defend your ability to take the lived experiences of millions of queer people, transgender people, jews, muslims, survivors of vicious hate crimes, children, victims of grooming, disabled people, black people, brown people, asians, and survivors of genocide to turn into content for your bigoted anime porn blog.

Whilst I still firmly believe fiction does not equate to reality, I wonder whether you think the same. Every other belief except for your own is up for grabs in a taboo free for all.

So when you say nothing is sacred in fiction?

I wonder whether that’s true of your own God as well—or just everybody else’s.

[writingwithcolor]

Happy New Year 2025 from WWC

Hello everyone,

Merry, cheery holidays! The WWC team and I have been making many silent strides closer to a writingwithcolor.org.

What we've been up to

While the going has been slow, we've made a lot of progress since raising donations from you guys to go towards a .org, which we've secured ever since. With this support and encouragement, we plan to maintain the blog as a permanent resource.

As for progress and use of donations

Times have been busy and oh, so trying, but we're trying harder. Also, donations (and free time) have been going to good use.

For instance, we've:

Cleaned up (Added, removed, renamed, combined) WWC post tagging for clarity and consistency.

Created mirroring pages on new blog (e.g. navigation, stereotypes and tropes navigation, etc.)

Migrated all blog posts to our standalone blog (4000 some posts)

Maintained the URL ($12 a year, Writingwithcolor.org, hidden from view lately as we get closer to launch, although we've had it redirecting to Tumblr only until recently)

Overall building out blog content on the host site ($15.99 a month)

Next steps are to:

Finalize our theme (The fun part)

Finish blog post cleanup on the migrated posts (WIP!).

More actions at a latter date after publishing

Currently, I have been going through each and every post, one-by-one, to:

Edit, update and refine content

Fix broken links

Improve accessibility, particularly on image-heavy posts

A lot of changed in the world since 2014, so we want even our earliest posts to reflect today's standards or at least note if something is olden days or we have a more helpful post or resource since.

Example of a post on the .org. Final theme and colors not applied yet

Soft launch and new hopeful publish date

This is the end stretch before we have an official SOFT LAUNCH!

We're considering it soft since there are just some things we can't easily correct yet or will just make everything take even longer to wait on. We'll continue to cross-link between here and there as we work on getting it all centralized, though.

But to be clear, as intended, we'll continue to post on tumblr as well as long as it sticks around.

Our new prospective publish date is for Spring 2025, in which we can also re-open to questions, release new guides, invite new members, etc. etc.

But who knows - perhaps we will get a chance to answer some questions in between then.

Thank you and let's catch up!

All of your support and patience has been so appreciated. Thank you for sticking around throughout the extended hiatus. Nonetheless, I do hope our robust depository of existing answers, detailed guides, recommendations, reblogs and so on has been helpful with your creative, professional and academic pursuits.

What have you all been up to? What strides have you made in 2024 and what goals do you have for 2025? Have you published any works? We want to hear it all. Share with us on this post!

Wishing you all a happy and healthy 2025,

~Colette and WWC team

[waytootiredstudent]

Why the CDU/CSU can go fuck itself

Time for another one of these. a quick(ish) summary for all the non-german speakers about why we're freaking out and the state of our democracy.

Spoiler. its not...good. Not catastrophic (yet). But the alarm bells are very, very loud.

Tl;dr: The CDU, party currently prognosed to win the election, has basically worked together with the afd to get a migrationbill to pass that is very strict. The afd are the nazi party that is getting backed by Musk. This might forshadow a cooperation between AFD and CDU. That would put the far right in power. The current response from the general public are demonstrations against that. Like. there are a LOT of protests currently.

Alright grab a drink and lets go.

First, groundwork: Who are parties and who is the guy we currently all want to punch in the face?

on top: Careful, risk of confusion. on the left: on the board of a sleazy cooperation. not interested in the enviroment. Real. On the right: on the board of a sleazy cooperation. not interested in the enviroment. comic figure.

This guy here is Friedrich Merz. no, not the guy on the right. the guy on the left. I know. Easy mistake to make.

He's an asshole. He's also the current boss of the CDU and their chancellor candidate. He's very likely to win according to recent polls.

The CDU has a complicated history, but to simplify it: They were in charge for sixteen years before the now broken apart Traffic-light goverment and are responsible for a lot of shit that we're currently dealing with. Like crumbling infrastructure for example. They were more interested, as a party, to preserve the status quo at all costs, than to invest anything. You could argue that a lot of the enviromental issues we are facing and the reason why Germany is currently pretty stagnant, can be traced back to the one and a half decade the CDU was in charge. They are conservative, not a fan of migration and like to throw around 'tradtional values'.

They are, generally speaking, or better were, center right. More on that later.

The other party that is going to be a major pain in the ass to outright fucking dangerous, is the AFD, short for 'Alternative for Germany'.

this is Alice Weidel, she's the current chancellor candidate for the afd. here is her wikipedia article and lets just say her 'controversies' part is longer than her 'political positions' part.

Those are the, to put it bluntly, Nazis. They are dangerous but also a fucking mess. Like, to just list a few of their hits: They've been getting money from dictators (different ones btw, not just one), infigthing is a sport to them, they try to glorify the nazi-regime, the german intelligence agency is watching them because they are officially considered radical right-wing and a threat to democracy, there is a petition to ban the afd and that is a high bar to cross, the demonize immigrants, hate queer people, you know, the usual. Also of course political correctness has gone too far and climate change isn't real and we need to leave the EU. Elon Musk, you know the rich guy who did the Nazi-salute, also has been appearing and is actively supporting them. Just in case we were unclear before on where they all stand.

(btw the whole 'elon is supporting them' thing is pretty scary bc you could argue the reason that the afd is able to win so many votes is bc, frankly, they're good at social media. Do i need to elaborate why that is a dangerous combination.)

to put them into perspective: The afd is too right for the other alt-right parties in the EU parlament. There is a coalition in the EU Parlament for the right, made up of all the right wing parties from other nations and the afd is too right for them. So. yeeeeaaah.

that should do it as background information.

Now. back to current events. where both of these parties are getting more and more support.

For a short history of why we currently have a non-functioning goverment, i made a post about that. Be aware that it was made as a product of its time and doesn't have all the information. For example back then we didn't know that FDP had actively engineered that break up and wanted it to happen for a while. Yes. They wanted to topple the goverment they were in. on purpose. It's been a fun time over here in Germany as well.

anyways, lets get to the meat of things. Since we don't have a functional goverment currently, Merz has introduced a harsh migration bill. This has been in the wake of an attack with two murders, where the current suspect is a migrant. while this is a tragedy, its getting brutally misused by all out rightwing parties to scream about how we need stricter migration laws and that migrants are a danger. Which to be so fucking clear about this, is such bullshit. It's been proven so many times how that is bullshit. I'm gonna be real and not even bother. They're just the newest scapegoats everything can be blamed on.

But because nobody has a majority, all attempts at governing so far have been pretty stalled.

(our goverment currently)

Quick information from the past:

in 2018 the CDU basically stated they wouldn't, in any sort of way, cooperate with the AFD, declaring basically a Brandmauer (fire wall). This basically means that yes, the afd had been given seats in the parlament, but nobody would give them any power whatsoever.

This has been the position of the cdu. It is why people still considered them center-right.

Merz has repeatedly said he didn't care who voted with him. now with a slight majority, 348 to 344, the cdu has won, with the support of the afd. Many see this as the fall of the Brandmauer. It's not good. Merz has more and more talking points that sound exactly like the afd and that is SCARY. There is still a vivid memory alive here about why having a far-right goverment is dangerous. There is a reason why there are currently a lot of massive protests all over the country loudly proclaiming that 'never again is now'.

This also puts for many the cdu from 'center right' to 'right'. There are calls from inside the cdu to 'stop demonizing the afd'. This is scary. This could mean that we get not just a conservative goverment in a few weeks, but a rightwing one. One who is comfortable cooperating with radical right wingers if it suits their needs. To cooperate with a party that even our own intelligence agencies consider a threat to our democrazy.

So. that is why your german mutuals sit there like

Now. To another part. What exactly is that migration bill merz had wanted to pass so desperateldy?

Well first of all it calls for a national emergency, using the beforementioned murder as reasoning, for the danger of immigration. It calls for closing and controls at the borders permanently, not temporary as is curently the case. They want for people without valid ID to be refused entry, even when they are searching safety. People that are already in Germany but need to leave should be thrown in jail until they actually leave.

Which. just to be clear about this. this what the bill they had, that had the support of the afd, says. This is not a wish list. This what they want to be law.

But to be also clear, lots of this is against our current law, against Basic EU law and principle and also a pretty big violation of our constituation.

Which is what makes this situation so fatal. This bill is going to be fought. In court, in politics, with demonstrations on the streets. this bill is controversial. Merz knew that. he knew that a lot of this wouldn't pass. This is a publicly stunt. This is testing the waters. How much will the public allow? how far can he push? Is cooperation with the afd possible for him? How does everyone react?

It was never about immigration or that bill. All the people this is going to impact, all the lives that are going to be lost because of this shit they are pulling - this is to them all just collateral. Its testing how much is possible, tolerated even. The chances of this bill making it law is slim. It needs to pass again in a different body of the goverment with a two thirds majority and that is nowhere in sight.

Also, lets take a look at who voted what:

it was about four votes. So my german friends who also read this - look at this and be aware of who voted what. Who abstained to vote and gave up the four votes it would have taken to stop this. who accepted that to get what they want they would need to get the support of the afd, no matter how much Merz now claims that he still doesn't cooperate with the afd and that there were no talks between them. Look at the numbers. Look how and with who they voted.

To be frank, i am pretty pissed off. I don't think much about wallowing in self-pity and despair. i am pissed off about what is happening. i am pissed off that these people don't have a spine, i am pissed off at the FDP for enabling this in the first place, i am pissed off that we have Nazis in out goverment, i am pissed off that we have people who are willing to cooperate with them. I am pissed off that i need to settle for damage control instead of being able to see something finally move forward.

Now here we come to the less depressing part of this whole thing. And i want you to pay attention to it.

People are protesting. loudly. And in the thousands. There have been ten to a hundred thousands of people all over the country in the last week, protesting against the rise of faschism and the far right. Its all over the country, in different cities. Where the afd appears to talk, so do the protesters. There are 35 afd people to 1300 protesters. People loudly say 'never again is now'. And they show up to back that claim up.

This shit is vile, yes, but it's not going to be unopposed.

I know this all reads as depressing as fuck but do not give into the temptation of falling into despair. This is far from over. Yes those are the alarm bells and they are ringing loudly. But there is still things that can be done. Don't let the afd lure you into thinking this all pointless anyways. It's not. This is all not good, yes, but no reason to fall into blind panic. The bill isn't law yet. Merz is facing massive backlash for his little stunt. This is not a hopeless situation. It's just a shitty one.

[lunarmoves]

who i see, looking back at me (ch5)

pairing: sebastian solace x reader

mentions: post-urbanshade fic, no use of y/n or pronouns, u are his partner <3, non-sexual intimacy, yearning the yearning!!, hurt/comfort

a/n: this fic has been a lesson for me in that i clearly am bad at estimating chapter count. ten for realsies this time /bangs gavel/ i have made it official and if i add any more im going to BLOW UPP. hope u guys enjoy, we can all thank the pressure update for propelling me back into sebastian brainrot <3 and a very special thank you to @/pastel-widow for supporting this chapter in particular! you rock! <3

word count: 10.4k+

masterlist | part four

ao3 link

In the following nights, you found yourself sleeping out in the living room with Sebastian more often instead of your bedroom. You couldn’t spend more than two nights on the ground—your hips and shoulders were loudly protesting against it, in fact—so you just migrated to your couch. You didn’t mind, you told him over and over again in response to his frown whenever you stretched yourself out on the cushions. Not when you fell asleep every night with Sebastian coiled up next to the couch’s edge—close enough that he could hold onto your hand as you snoozed without putting your arm in a weird position. 

Like this, you bore witness to just how little he actually slept. You felt it when you were roused lightly from your own slumber with the way Sebastian would rub circles across your knuckles. Heard it when he would shift and shift and shift, never quite able to keep still. Saw it in the way you’d peek your eyes open in the quiet of late night to see him blinking wearily down at your interlocked hands. 

It left this infinite ache in the pit of your chest; a somber kind of feeling that came from watching a loved one suffer from prior tribulations you wished you could just… erase away with a swipe of your palm. 

But you couldn’t, you knew that. As much as you wanted to. Though maybe you could at least make things a bit easier for him. 

You did end up purchasing a bottle of melatonin for him. A very large bottle. Sebastian seemed dubitative when he took it from you—an emotion you could not quite define lingered in his expression, and his lips pinched in a way that was indicative that he wanted to say something. But he chose not to, and you didn’t want to bother him about it. 

You were uncertain if the supplement was helping him or not. Each night, after he popped a few into his mouth and settled down in front of your couch once you had tucked yourself in, you would fall asleep to blue etched across your eyelids. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night to him still clutching onto your hand as he watched you through unfocused, half-lidded eyes. At other times you would wake to him in a fitful doze—his face scrunched or his forehead creased as he dreamed. You supposed it was better than nothing at all. At least he was trying.

Those instances of fragile slumber never did seem to last all too long, to your immense disappointment. He always woke with a gasp like he had been drowning—ironic, you thought to yourself—a certain ephemeral look to his glowing eyes that you were initially unable to place. 

But with you sleeping in such close quarters to him now, it became easier for you to read whenever you woke up alongside him. 

Panic. Dread.

Regarding what, exactly, was somewhat of a mystery—of which the answers you weren’t sure he wanted to indulge you with. Not with how vague he had been in your initial conversation concerning his sleep. And indeed, the couple of times you had tried to ask him after he woke up in such a manner, he just brushed you off—staring at you blankly for a few seconds before he’d blink and look away almost guiltily.

You had an inkling of ideas, though, of what he could possibly be dreaming of or what could incite such undesirable feelings. Your ideas were not particularly pleasant either; you abhorred thinking about them just as much as you abhorred everything that Sebastian had told you regarding his experimentation—which honestly was not much at all. 

But again, it was fine if he didn’t want to tell you just yet. If at all. Either way, you still had to deal with the unsteady aftermath of it. 

It felt like you’d tried everything there was for him. You brewed him certain teas—chamomile, decaffeinated green tea, magnolia. You stopped watching T.V. directly before you both would sleep, instead winding down for an hour by reading or talking about your day. You even played gentle music when you both laid in the darkness of your living room. Nothing seemed to be working. 

You were starting to get a little frustrated, you had to admit. A frustration that mostly stemmed from your inability to give him something he clearly needed. To help him in a way that felt impactful and instantaneous. 

If only it were that easy. 

“Is there anything you can think of that could help? Even a little bit?” you asked him one evening as you sat swaddled in your blanket in the living room. The T.V. was a low drone in the background, its screen casting flickering shadows across the walls. 

Sebastian glanced at you, his face highlighted by the navy lighting of the movie you were both watching. There was a pause as he pondered, his eyes briefly falling closed.  

“I don’t know,” he eventually said quietly as he looked away, hands clenching at his sides. Avoiding your gaze, you realized later on. Not saying what he was truly thinking, for one reason or the other. You suppressed a despondent sigh. 

Time. Maybe you just needed to give him more time. 

It haunted you—that fragile night. That moment with him. It haunted you like everything else you had to deal with. You were reminded every time you caught a glimpse of those bandages around his arm. Every time you saw evidence of changed wrappings in the garbage can on certain nights when you would come home (he didn’t let you change them yourself, no matter how many times you’d offer). 

Maybe tackling some of his other issues—of which you were certain he had quite a few, even if he didn’t outright tell you—would help. Sometimes these kinds of problems were interconnected in a deep way where solving one could solve the others. It was worth a shot. 

So you ruminated deeply about how else you could help him. What you could do to facilitate some sort of healing into his routine.

The most obvious choice was getting him into some form of therapy. For him and for you. But that wasn’t quite an option. No, you thought to yourself as you idly traced the coiled loops of his tail with your eyes while he attempted some kind of light sleep one night. It most certainly wasn’t.  

And since he made it clear he wasn’t going to talk to you about it right now, that just left one other option he could do, really. You’d just have to convince him to keep up with it. 

“Here, these are for you,” you said one day after you returned home from work and kicked your shoes off at the door. In your hands was a large plastic bag that you held out to him once you’d stopped by his side; it was nearly bigger than your torso.

Sebastian eyed it before he slowly reached down to take it from you. “What’s this?” he asked suspiciously, the plastic rustling between his thick fingers. “You bribing me now, babe? Want something from me? I’m pretty expensive, I’ll have you know.” 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “Don’t be so dramatic. I just stopped by an art store on my way back.” 

“Really?” He perked up instantly, his ear fins flicking slightly as he held the bag open with two of his hands and reached into it with his third. 

He pulled out two large drawing pads and held them out inquisitively in front of him. They weren’t anything fancy—just these plain, brown, eighteen by twenty-four inch pads. The perfect size for him, you noted with a smile. You’d picked them out well. 

“I figured you could use one of them for art and the other as a journal of sorts,” you told him as he regarded the sketchpads, then set them off atop the couch so he could reach back into the bag. Out came a giant eraser, a pack of charcoal blocks, and a couple of those massive pencils that were typically given out to children as joke gifts. Both came with their own sharpeners, too.  

Sebastian observed the pencils. One of them looked like a regular number two pencil. The other was Hello Kitty themed. He gave you a flat look. “Seriously?” 

You didn’t even bother to hide your grin. “What? The pink matches those sunglasses I got you.” 

“I’m starting to think that you see me as some kind of child instead of a fully grown adult,” he snarked as he held both pencils together in a fist. For him, they looked almost regular-sized, albeit a bit on the longer side. 

You gave him an innocent look. “I would never.” 

Sebastian hummed like he didn’t quite believe you. “Art I get,” he started as he put everything back in the bag apart from the drawing pads, “but… a journal?” 

You shrugged idly, one of your hands rubbing at the back of your neck. “Yeah. Think of it as a vent journal of sorts,” you told him. “Since therapy clearly isn’t an option.” 

He regarded you with a look that was not quite incredulous, but it was certainly close. Skeptical, maybe. A mix of both. “You want me to write my feelings down in a diary like I’m a teenage girl or something?” he deadpanned. 

“A journal,” you corrected him. “At least try it before you shit on it. Who knows, maybe it’ll help.” 

He took a moment to look at you—his gaze flicking all over the expectancy lining your face—then turned to look at the sketchpads still sitting propped up on your couch. He sighed, a relenting thing that made your lips twitch. 

“Fine,” he acquiesced, somewhat sullenly. “I’ll try journal therapy.” 

You watched him carefully; the way he picked up one of the drawing pads to scrutinize it, before he flipped it open to look at the blank pages inside. He was willing to give it a shot, and that was what mattered. Minutely, something seemed to ease within your chest.

You gave him a smile. “Great.”

Baby steps, you told yourself again. Baby steps.

It took some time before he eventually settled into somewhat of a groove. He picked up the sketchpad and pencil a couple days after you’d given them to him, then took a long, long moment to just stare down at one of the blank pages. Rolling the pencil between his fingers like it held all the answers. You busied yourself with some chores in the kitchen to give him some space, though you couldn’t help but peek over at him from time to time as he sat coiled in the living room. Watching the way he pondered and mused. 

Soon enough, you did catch him jotting some things down hesitantly. And as the minutes ticked by, he became more assured in his writing. You called it a win, especially when you saw him doing it again—albeit sporadically—the following nights.

With Sebastian trying journaling, though, it would be a bit hypocritical of you to not practice the same methods you had imposed upon him as well. So you got yourself your own journal and made it a habit to scribble in it every evening as you sat curled up on your couch with Sebastian just across from you. It became an activity for you and him to do together, of sorts. Also a way for you to ensure that he kept consistently using his own journal instead of ignoring it as he sometimes tended to do. Results wouldn’t be instantaneous, you knew that, but you had to make sure he was being routine with it for them to eventually show.

And well, he didn’t say it outright, but you were able to glean that having you join in on journaling with him was helping him, in a way. It made him more… relaxed. Maybe even willing to stick with it. So it meant you had to, too. Accountability was being upheld for both you and him. 

You were curious as to what he wrote in his giant sketchpad. Of course you were curious. Some days, it felt like the feeling just consumed you in its entirety with how much you wondered. The things he had gone through, the secrets he didn’t want to tell you just yet. The time you both had lost. 

But you respected his privacy. And as much as your gaze flicked up to watch him writing away in his journal, your lips stayed sealed on the matter. You instead paid close attention to his expressions, each evening, for they sometimes gave away things that you were sure he wasn’t quite cognizant of. 

The pinch of his eyebrows. The unpleasant curl of his mouth. The way he would squint, or stare, or squeeze his eyes shut. The lift of his upper lip to reveal his dark gums and sharp teeth. Even the way he would grip tightly onto his pencil until you’d nudge him with your foot to get his hand to relax before he’d break it.

It fostered a melancholy kind of hurt in your heart that you knew would only get better with time. But you found it was easier to soothe with how proud you were of him for consistently devoting himself to this attempt at getting better—as minor as it felt. 

You just only hoped it would be enough for now. 

It was raining outside. 

This storm wasn’t as vicious as the last one, but you still had to tug your buckets out from under the kitchen sink to position under those damn leaks. You’d completely forgotten about them with… everything that had happened. You sighed and scrubbed your hand at the back of your head as you glared down at one of the buckets slowly collecting a puddle of water. At least today you had a day off; you didn’t want to have to deal with driving to town in this kind of weather. 

Sebastian hummed as he slowly trailed across the living room to peer up at the small wet spots on the ceiling. His lure gently painted the walls in a soft yellow—contrasting against the cool gray light of the cloudy sky outside that peeked through the curtains.

“You should probably get those fixed,” he drawled out as he stopped next to the bucket you were standing by. His head flicked down at it, then up so he could squint at the leakage point.

You gave him a flat look. “No, really? I didn’t know.” 

He snorted at the sarcasm coating your voice. “There aren’t too many,” he said smartly. “Probably from some cracked tiles, or something. Even you could fix those.” 

You frowned, just a little, as something in your stomach twinged at his condescending words. But you said nothing as you watched him lift his palm under the leak. A singular drop fell towards his hand—a tiny thing that looked even tinier in the sea of his palm once it had landed. He scrutinized it, then flicked it off to the side without a spare thought. 

You sighed and looked over at the closest window. It was half-curtained from the steady progress you’d both been making with letting more sunlight into the rooms. Rivulets ran down in streams against the glass. A brief flash of lightning in the distance preceded the rumble of gentle thunder. 

“I meant to fix them after the last storm, but I was too busy, I guess,” you replied, your lips twisting slightly to the side. Mentally, you marked it down on your to-do list for when it stopped raining tomorrow. 

“Can’t do shit about it now anyways.” Sebastian shrugged once you looked back at him, then turned so he could slip over to his usual spot in front of the sofa. He coiled himself up, then gave his sketchpads a thoughtful look where they rested on the little coffee table off to the side. His head moved like he was looking at you from the corner of his glowing, teal eye. “Hey, c’mere for a sec.” 

Your head tilted curiously to the side, but you approached as Sebastian grabbed one of his sketchpads along with a pencil. He gestured at you to sit down across from him on the couch, and you complied with only the smallest hints of confusion. 

“What?” you asked when it became apparent he wasn’t going to say anything else. He flipped open the sketchpad. It wasn’t his journal one, you realized soon after, but his drawing one. 

“You weren’t doing anything now, were you?” he asked instead of giving you an answer, knowing fully well that you didn’t have anything to do, based on the impish smile on his face. 

You made a show out of thinking about it regardless, the tip of your index finger pressed to your chin. “Hmm. My schedule’s pretty busy, I dunno.”

“Yeah? What boring stuff do you gotta do that doesn’t involve me in it?” Sebastian sassed as he used his thick tail to prop up the sketchpad in front of him. He pointed the eraser end of the pencil at you. “C’mon. Throw a guy a bone here.” 

“Well, I guess I can clear it for you.” You chuckle. “Since you’re asking so nicely and all.” 

Sebastian grinned sharply at your pointed words. “Great! Now sit still~” 

You rolled your eyes, but settled yourself down more comfortably atop the couch. You lifted up your legs to tuck them to the side, then propped your elbow up on the couch’s arm so you could rest your cheek on it. Sebastian observed you for a few moments, before he nodded to himself and looked back down at the sketchpad. 

You’ve modeled for him before in the distant past, of course. Both with and without your knowledge. So you were no stranger to the long stretches of time you’d need to go without shifting too much. It’d… been a while, though. You wondered how long it would take for your legs to inevitably fall asleep. 

The rain was a gentle patter against the walls of your cottage that lulled you into a relaxed state. You could feel your muscles easing as you settled deeper into your pose. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched Sebastian as his hand moved fluidly across the page. You couldn’t see it from where you were positioned, but you could see his focused expression, and that was enough for you.

With him having no pupils, you couldn’t quite tell when he was flicking his gaze up to you, but the pauses he made in drawing were enough of an indicator. His brows creased together in frustration, and his lips pressed against each other as he hummed then mumbled to himself. A couple lines drawn here. A few erased lines there. The tip of his blue tongue peeked out from the corner of his mouth. You tried not to feel too self-conscious of yourself. 

Another flash of lightning lit up the window from the corner of your eye. The resulting thunder rolled across the sky like the pounding of a colossal drum, slow and steady. You were able to see the way Sebastian’s ear fins twitched at the sound. They pressed firmly against the sides of his head. 

You watched him curiously, but didn’t comment on it when he remained focused on drawing. Your breathing slowed. There was a heaviness to your eyes that was exacerbated by the tranquil atmosphere. Slowly, you blinked. Another rumble of thunder loomed overhead—quieter, this time, but ever so present. 

You were woken up when something cool swiped at the corner of your mouth. 

Jerking slightly, your eyes snapped open to the sight of Sebastian looming over you. Strands of his black hair had fallen into his face in some semblance of a loose curtain, one of his hands drawing back to his jacket so he could wipe his thumb on it. 

“You were drooling,” he said in amusement as an explanation when you just blinked blankly up at him. His eyes squinted down at you with his grin. 

“What? No I wasn’t,” you replied, voice faintly crusted with sleep. You straightened up from your slouched position over the couch’s arm and wiped quickly at your chin. It was completely dry. Liar. Probably. Your lips smacked together as you rubbed an eye. There was a grogginess to your mind that sometimes came with unexpected naps. “How long was I out?” 

“Not too long,” he told you, vague as all hell. “Bored you to death, did I? I’m hurt, drooly.” 

“Yeah, yeah, get it all out now while you can.” You snorted and glanced over at the open window. It was darker outside, but not by much. Rain still thrummed against the glass. You looked back at Sebastian and noticed he’d packed away his drawing materials. “You’re done already?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugged and leaned away from you to give you a bit more space. The movement of his lure made shadows shift around you in their own midnight dances. “Got hungry and figured I should save you from your own saliva. You're welcome.” 

“My hero,” you said dryly. You peered around his body to look at his sketchpad resting innocently on the coffee table. Pointing at it, you asked, “Can I see?” 

“Nope!” was his immediate response. 

You frowned—pouted, more like. “Aw c’mon. Pretty please?” 

He chuckled. “Nice try, but those drawings are for these three eyes only”—he pointed at himself, then down at you—”not those two eyes.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him, then tilted your head when your gaze caught onto that small box of his things where it sat on the coffee table still. You gestured at it. “Your old sketchbook’s still in there, you know. It’s not like I haven’t seen your art before.”

There was a small pause. 

“I know,” he eventually said simply, then nothing else. 

You watched him carefully—the way his hands clasped together, and he smiled down at you with his eyes closed in upturned crescents. Your lips pressed together before you decided to drop it. 

“Alright, fine. Keep your secrets.” You sniffed, then stretched your arms up before you stood up from the couch with a grunt. Sebastian’s eyes reopened to watch you as you said, “Let’s see what to do for dinner then, yeah?” 

The following day, the clear skies and bright sun allowed you to make the executive decision to check your roof for any of those pesky broken tiles. You didn’t want to forget again; it was best to get it out of the way now rather than later, while the reminder was still fresh. 

Someone at the clinic was able to lend you an extension ladder, so you picked it up right after your shift, then made your way to the nearest hardware store to grab a few terracotta roof tiles, sealant, and some other key items just in case. You didn’t want to make another trip back to town, so you figured buying them now would be better. 

You grunted as you lugged the metal ladder out of your car’s trunk and half-dragged it over to the side of your little cottage. Laying it down to rest on the grass, you straightened up and wiped the back of your hand across your forehead. The sun’s heat felt faintly scorching where it pressed its palms against your exposed skin, even as it was beginning its descent to the horizon. Luckily, the coolness of the ocean breeze was able to combat it. 

You eyed up your cottage walls and the sloping roof above them to gauge where to prop up the ladder. But as your gaze landed on one of the windows off to the side, you noticed the curtains inside were drawn tightly across it. You stared at it, then sought out another window to see the same thing. 

How odd. You were certain they had all still been halfway open when you’d left for work this morning. And you had opened the windows themselves to air out the cottage as well. They were firmly shut, from what you could see. 

You worried at your lower lip with your teeth. There was this sinking feeling in your stomach, familiar and foreboding, that told you something wasn’t quite right. You abandoned the ladder on the ground to approach the front door. Jamming your keys into the lock, you opened it with a quiet creak. 

The first thing you noticed was the impenetrable darkness that settled across your living room like a heavy layer of paint. How Sebastian had managed to eradicate even the faintest traces of sunlight, you were unsure. But a quick squint at a nearby window showed he had tucked some kind of cloth over the curtain’s rail as well. 

The second thing you noticed was the undeniable smell of sea salt and fish. 

Now, these were not abnormal smells, by any means. Living on the coast meant subjecting yourself to the various ocean fragrances that permeated through your cottage walls and cracked-open windows. But it was stronger than what you were used to, and your nose twitched a little before you stepped inside and gently closed the door behind you. 

Déjà vu ran its fingers up your spine to whisper into your ears. It was so quiet in here; you could hear your own steady breaths as you waited for your eyesight to adjust. The shadows coalesced until you could make out Sebastian’s tightly coiled form in front of the sofa. You slipped off your shoes to pad over to him. 

“Sebastian?” you murmured as you stopped near where you thought his head might be. 

A low mumble was his response, coming somewhere to your right along his looping body. You cocked an eyebrow, then squinted at him as you took those few steps to the side to peer down at what you realized was his covered head. 

You squatted slightly to try to look at him properly. His head and shoulders were tucked completely beneath his blanket. You could just make out the curve of the back of his skull through the material. 

You reached out to pick up an edge of the blanket and peer at the vantablack space underneath it. “Seb?” 

“Shhhh,” came his ragged voice, his exhale tainted with the faint smell of cigarette smoke. A sliver of glowing teal appeared to squint up at you through the darkness, vaguely highlighting his face. His face was pinched in a mix of irritation and discomfort. “You’re too loud.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you whispered in as quiet a voice you could muster, though you still saw his expression tighten. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothin’,” he gritted out. And when he realized you were frowning at him—you were not going to do this with him, not again—he begrudgingly added, “Just— leave me alone for a bit, yeah? S’too loud. ‘N bright.” 

Ah. Your gaze flicked swiftly up to eye the covered windows, then back down to Sebastian. A soft sort of understanding pooled in your stomach. 

“Okay,” you murmured, and once he had squeezed his eyes back shut, you gently lowered the blanket edge so that it was properly covering him once more. He mumbled out something that vaguely sounded like a thanks, then seemed to curl tighter into himself. 

Straightening up, you frowned as you rubbed at your chin. You glanced around, your gaze landing on the sofa where you could make out the hazy, floppy outlines of your pillows sitting atop it. Hmm. Those could work. 

It took little effort to reach over and grab the pillows with a hand. Then, carefully, you stacked them around and over Sebastian’s head to help dampen any residual sound or light. You didn’t think there was much else you could do for him; this would have to do for now. A low, muffled grunt was all you got in return from him. 

You stepped back, observing him for a few more seconds, before you turned around to slip your way silently back to the front door. Your shoes were jammed back on, and with one final glance to Sebastian’s coiled form, you stepped outside and closed the door gingerly behind you. 

The sudden sunlight was nearly blinding even in its dimmed intensity. You lifted a hand up to shield your eyes as you squeezed them closed for a few seconds. While you were unsure as to what could have caused an episode like that for him, at least you wouldn’t bother him too much while you were tending to your outside chores. All you could do was wait it out, really.

You sighed. And once your vision had adjusted to the brightness of an oncoming sunset, you made your way back over to where you had set down the ladder.   

It took you longer than you would like to admit to set up the ladder properly and lift it up to place against one of the side walls of your cottage at an angle. The tip of the ladder was just able to poke past the lowermost edge of the roof. You jiggled it, testing its sturdiness, then trodded over to your car so you could grab the bag containing the items you’d purchased at the store. 

With the bag swinging from the crux of your arm, you tested the ladder once more to ensure it wouldn’t tilt or slide, then started a careful climb. Each step creaked and shifted beneath your shoes. You got about halfway up before you had to freeze due to a stray wobble. You weren’t going to risk possibly tumbling off and breaking something. 

Once you reached the top of the ladder, you paused briefly to evaluate the roof. It was dry, thankfully, so you had no major issues with climbing on top of it and letting yourself settle in a crouch. Your shoes had a decent enough grip on the tiles; you would make do. 

Sure enough, a quick sweep of the roof revealed a handful of cracked tiles. You had purchased more than enough replacements at the hardware store for them. Plopping yourself down at the first cracked tile, you set the bag next to you, donned some gloves, and got to work with prying the old tile up and applying the sealant to the new tile. It was menial work, and you found yourself getting absorbed into it as the sun steadily followed its routine descent to turn the sky into a haze of mandarin. 

At one point, though, you thought you heard the telltale creak of your front door opening. You paused and glanced over in the general direction of the sound. But when there was nothing else, you returned to your work. You would go check, but with your position on the roof, you’d rather not move more than what you considered necessary. You didn’t want to increase your risk of slipping right off of it, after all. 

In the distance, there was the soft rush of waves ebbing and flowing along the shore. A cool breeze had you suppressing a small shiver even through your jacket. The tiles you were sitting on were smooth yet hard and pressed firmly into your thighs. You carefully fitted one of the new ones into its intended slot, then started to smooth some sealant around it.

A shadow moved in your periphery. You glanced up briefly, then did a double take in mild surprise when you realized you were looking at Sebastian. 

What the hell?

He had lifted himself up so that half of his upper body poked above the roof’s edge a couple feet away from you. The blanket was wrapped like a shawl over his head and shoulders, barely allowing strands of his hair to poke out over his face. But what had you suppressing a small smile was the sight of those sunglasses you’d gotten him, perched delicately upon his face. The rhinestones on its frame glimmered in the dying sunlight. 

Like this, you were both eye-to-eye. It was… strange, but not unpleasantly so, especially since you typically spent a majority of your time with him straining your neck to look at his face.

You blinked curiously at him. Then, you opened your mouth to greet him. “Hi.” 

“Hey,” he greeted back, simple and succinct. 

Looking away, your eyes skimmed the surrounding area of your cottage and down to the sliver of pale beach you could see from your position. Vacant, thankfully, but you couldn’t help the worry settling in the back of your head at him potentially being spotted. You tried your best to push it down. He, of all people, would be more than aware about the consequences of being seen. 

Actually… this was the first time you’ve seen him outside since you’d invited him to stay with you. 

Another strange thought. It would be fine. 

Your gaze returned to your work. “Feeling better?” 

“Meh.” Sebastian shrugged. “Better enough. Heard you stomping around on the roof and decided to check on you in case you ended up falling to your death or something.” 

“I wasn’t stomping,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes. 

“Um, yeah you were. I should call you ‘the stomper’.” 

“Har har.” You snorted, then decided to poke your own fun at him. “I think you were just feeling too lonely in there. My presence is pretty addicting, I know.” 

Sebastian made a face at your words. “You’re hanging out too much with me. It’s like I’ve got a carbon copy of myself, and one of me is frankly more than enough.” 

Laughing softly under your breath, you shook your head at him and finished up with the current tile you were sealing. All your tools and materials got shoved into the bag at your side so you could crawl over to the final cracked tile and settle yourself next to it. Vaguely, you felt Sebastian’s gaze on you the entire time, his head turning to follow your movements.

You rummaged around in the bag to find the chisel you’d been using. “The sunglasses seem to be working well,” you commented idly. He didn’t look like he was too discomforted by the waning sunlight, though you weren’t sure if they would be this effective in the middle of the day, when the sun was even brighter. Maybe he could test them out another time now that he had shown he was willing to wear them.

“They’re alright, I suppose.” He hummed and lifted a hand to adjust them. At least they properly covered all three of his eyes. Small wins. “Still ugly as hell, though.” 

“Just admit they were a good purchase,” you said amusedly as you worked to pry up the damaged tile. “I won’t even say ‘I told you so’.” 

“‘Good’ is pushing it,” he drawled. “‘Decent’, more like. But even that’s too good of a descriptor.” 

“You can’t ever let me have a win, can you.” 

“Nope! Catching on now, are you?” 

You had to suppress another eye roll. “Why don’t you go back inside and get started on dinner?” you said pointedly as you waved your scraper at him. “You wanted Charquicán tonight, right?” 

Sebastian scoffed. “And leave you stranded up here? Hell no.” 

“There’s a ladder right there.” You gestured over to it, where it still sat propped up against your cottage wall. 

“You know how many ladder-related accidents happen every year?” Sebastian asked incredulously. And then, without missing a beat, he added, “At least two. And knowing your luck, you’ll be both of ‘em.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s inaccurate reporting,” you said plainly. 

“Your mom’s inaccurate reporting.” 

“Sebastian!” You attempted to scold him, but you were wildly unsuccessful with the laugh that inadvertently left your lips. “Remember when you complained about me seeing you more like a child than an adult?” you asked pointedly, giving him a look. 

He snickered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. In any case”—he snapped his fingers, then pointed at you—“you’re distracting from the subject at hand here. I’m not leaving.” 

You sighed lightheartedly. You knew a losing battle when you were faced with one, and Sebastian could be one stubborn motherfucker. “Alright, fine. I’m almost done anyways.” 

He smiled like the cat that got the cream. “Great! Don’t mind me, then. Carry on.” He made a shoo-ing motion with one of his hands. You huffed out through your nose at the action and went back to work. 

Sealant was smoothed along the bottom of the new tile. It was slotted in place. More sealant was added along the perimeter and to any crevices. Sebastian leaned forward so he could rest his elbow on the roof and prop his head up. You didn’t think it was all too entertaining to watch you replace roof tiles, but Sebastian did not give any indication that he wanted to leave at all. It made something in your stomach twinge. 

You gave the tile a final once over before you nodded to yourself and started packing your things away into the bag. At last, you were done; and right on time for night to fall, too. The last vestiges of pale sunlight were just about to wink out of existence beneath the horizon. 

“I never thought I’d see the day where you’d be doing handywork,” Sebastian mused, more to himself than anything, but you still heard him. 

You shrugged and peeled off your gloves to shove into the bag. “Who knew I didn’t need an engineering degree for it all this time.” 

He barked out a laugh at your sarcasm that made you shoot him back a playful grin. “Yeah? Crazy how that works, huh?” His head moved to follow you as you slowly crawled your way down the sloped roof towards the ladder. “Now it’s your turn to do all the fixing and my turn to do all the, ah, watching.” 

A heat started to crawl into your cheeks. You were going to ignore the way he said that. You cleared your throat and gave him an amused look once you’d stopped right before the ladder. “You— You can still help with that kinda stuff, you know.” 

“Who, me? Nah.” He shifted closer towards you, his third hand waving dismissively in the air. “I’m rather content to be a housewife, now that I think about it.” That same hand gestured towards you with a crook of his fingers, his ring glinting slightly at you. “Gimme your bag, I got it.” 

You knew better than to argue; the bag had gotten a bit heavier with the addition of all the broken tiles. You passed it over, then carefully turned yourself around so you could set a foot against the topmost rung of the ladder. 

Minutely, it wobbled. And before you could really register it, Sebastian reached out with one of his free hands to hold onto the side rail. 

“Careful,” he drawled out, his grip tightening on the ladder to hold it steady. 

You hummed your thanks and made your way back to the ground. Like this, you were able to see the way Sebastian had used his tail to lift himself up to peer over the roof. You were well aware of how long his body stretched, of course, but seeing it vertically like this was strange, in a way. He’d always seemed to try to make himself appear as small as possible, to you. 

Sebastian lowered himself into a coil in concurrence with your descent, then let go of the ladder once you had hopped down and brushed your hands off. 

“Good?” he asked, head tilting down to peer at you slightly over his sunglasses. The blanket over his head had slipped a bit, revealing more of his dark hair. The strands were stuck together like they were… damp, almost. You hadn’t noticed before.

“Yep.” You gave him a thumbs up, and when something seemed to ease within the muscles of his body, you couldn’t help but coo at him in a tease. “Aww. I knew you cared.” 

He sniffed and crossed his arms. The early night painted his face in gentle shadows. “Yeah well”—his head turned like he was looking away from you—“Shit goes both ways, doesn’t it?” he mumbled. 

Your expression immediately softened. 

“That it does,” you replied warmly. 

It had been just another lazy day for you and Sebastian when you heard your phone give off a ping with an incoming text. 

You fished it out from between the couch cushions as you glanced away from the movie currently playing on the television. Swiping on the small screen, you squinted down at the message from one of your coworkers. 

hey r we still good for dinner at 6? 

There was a moment where all you did was stare at your phone. Then, your eyes widened. 

“Oh shit,” you blurted as you sat straight up and quickly typed out a confirmation text. You had completely forgotten you’d rescheduled that dinner with your coworker for today. And it was— fifteen minutes past five o’clock. Double shit. 

“What?” Sebastian questioned in confusion when you sprang up from the couch to dart over to your room. There was a shifting sound behind you, followed by the pausing of the movie, but you couldn’t dwell. You only had less than an hour to get ready and drive over to the town’s diner to meet up with your coworker. And you would feel bad if it ended up being rescheduled again—not with how difficult it was for both of your times off to align. 

“I completely forgot I had plans for today,” you called back as you beelined for your closet and started rummaging through your clothes in the encroaching dark. This marked the, what, second time you’ve forgotten something? It couldn’t be helped, you supposed, though at least things in your life now have settled down… somewhat. 

“Plans?” You heard Sebastian ask curiously, and a brief glance to the side showed he had followed you to your room. He hovered within the doorway, slightly hunched over so he could watch you. He reached up to tug on his lure and brighten up your room. “Without me? I’m hurt, sweetheart. Truly.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone. “We were gonna grab dinner a bit ago, but had to reschedule.” You pulled out a shirt to scrutinize, then put it back. Too casual. The diner wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was nice to dress up every now and then. 

“Who’s ‘we’?” 

“Me and a coworker,” you said offhandedly as you pulled out a sweater and a blazer. You eyed the combo, then turned to look at Sebastian as you held them both out uncertainly. “Is this too much for a diner?” 

He’d moved further into your room when you weren’t looking. His head tilted as he regarded the clothes, then he snorted. “What, you planning on hosting a meeting, too? Lose the blazer.” 

You made a face at him, but did as told. “You right. Ugh, but this is too plain…”

“Got any jewelry? Slap on a necklace or something.” 

You contemplated his suggestion, then nodded. “That could work. Thanks.” 

“No prob,” Sebastian replied, sounding faintly pleased that you’d agreed with him. And after you’d turned away to start looking for a bottom to go with the sweater, he added, “You ah, go out often?” 

You made a vague sound. “Never quite found the time to, honestly.” You grabbed a pair of dark pants and compared it to the sweater. This looked fine; it would have to do. “Some of my coworkers know you had, uh—” You cut yourself off, feeling something briefly wedge itself in your throat before you swallowed it down. You were not going to think about that. “N— Never mind. Point is, I haven’t really… gone out much over the years.”  

Sebastian hummed, a low and musing thing that followed you as you jogged past him to make your way to the bathroom, clothes in hand. It had become routine, almost, to change there instead of your bedroom now—particularly after showers. “Mmh, self isolation is never good.” A quick glance at his face showed his lips had twisted slightly to the side, brows furrowed. At what, precisely, you didn’t have the time to decipher. 

You squeezed past his tail in the doorway. “Don’t I know it.” Entering the bathroom, you flicked on the light and mindlessly batted at the door to get it to close part way. You chucked off your current clothes. “Anyways,” you called out, “it’s only for a couple of hours. I can bring you back leftovers if you want?” 

“Whatever you think will catch my eye,” he responded, voice faintly muffled beyond the small gap in the door. 

“Alright, but you can’t be mean if you end up hating it.” 

“Me? I would never.” 

“Mmhm. Sure.”

With your sweater and pants tugged on in record time, you gathered up your old clothes and toed the door back open. But you weren’t expecting Sebastian to be lingering right outside, his hands clasped together as he regarded you openly from his towering height. Your shoulders jumped slightly, but you shoved down the initial surprise to hurriedly slip past him and step over his tail so you could return to your bedroom. A gentle susurration against the floor behind you gave way to Sebastian following without any other word.

Your clothes were dumped atop your bed for later, your socks were pulled onto your feet. You scurried about to slap on some accessories and neaten your hair with a comb. All the while, you could feel Sebastian’s teal gaze on you as he quietly watched. 

You grabbed your jacket, keys, and wallet, then squeezed past him once more so you could snatch your phone up from where you had left it on the couch. You checked the time. You had twenty minutes left to get to the diner. A bit of the tension from the time crunch eased away from within you, but not completely. You could make it if you left right now. 

Pocketing your phone, you threw on your jacket and jammed on your shoes near the front door. You turned to do a quick last inspection of your reflection in the mirror by the door, but it wasn’t there. Right. You’d thrown it out, and you had yet to purchase a replacement. 

You spun on your heel instead and splayed out your palms towards Sebastian. He lingered near the back of the couch, now, ever so silent and thoughtful. “This is fine, right?” 

He gave you a once-over, made obvious by the way his head moved down, then up. One of his fingers spun in a pinched circle. “Give me a spin.” You obliged, and once you were facing him again, he held out a thumbs up. Clearing his throat, he said a gentle “You look great.” 

You nodded, warmth spreading to your cheeks. It wasn’t exactly the tease you’d been expecting from him, but you couldn’t say you were displeased. You moved to open the front door. If you dawdled any further—as much as you wanted to—you would be late. “Okay, good. I’ll be back later, then.” 

Sebastian hummed. He seemed ruminative, almost, in the way he simply observed you. But right as your lips pressed together in concern, he gave you a close-eyed smile and a little wave in dismissal. “Have fun~” 

You’d ask him about it when you got back, you decided. “Bye!” 

With the door closed behind you, you made a beeline for your car as you shot your coworker another quick message. The drive into town wasn’t long at all, the roads lit up by the dusty yellow glow of the surrounding streetlamps. You pulled into a parking spot just outside the diner right as you spotted your coworker walking down the block. Perfectly timed, it seemed, despite the way you’d rushed about in the past hour. You greeted them once you exited your car, and together, you both headed into the small building. 

You have been to this diner on occasion before when you didn’t have the energy to cook. The walls of the inside were painted a greenish-blue, with the ceiling perimeter framed in neon pink lighting that gently highlighted the surroundings in a shy blush. The murmur of conversation from other patrons filled the air around you. Mixed aromas from various meals made your stomach rumble in anticipation. In the far corner of the diner—past booths that sat next to wide, open windows, and the long bar of the counter—there was a jukebox that spat out some old tunes from the eighties. It felt like something straight out of a movie. 

Sebastian would like a place like this, you mused to yourself. 

The dinner in itself was rather pleasant. The conversation with your coworker ranged from work to shows to books. You both had quite a few shared interests, so it was enjoyable to catch up on them and discuss different opinions. Time seemed to breeze on by, made apparent only when you glanced through the window to look at the twinkling stars that had appeared in the sky—placed there like someone had taken a spray bottle and spritzed all over a midnight canvas. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out with someone like this outside of work. Had fun. It was… nice. 

Inevitably, though, things started to wind down. And after a waitress had stopped by to gather up all the empty dishes and drop off the check, your coworker suddenly leveled you with a thoughtful look. 

“I hope it’s not too out of place to say this,” they began, making you tilt your head at them in curiosity, “but you seem… happier.” 

You blinked at them, minutely thrown by their observation. “I do?” 

“Yeah. I dunno how to explain it. You just…” They shrugged and leaned back in their seat. “Your eyes look brighter.” They rubbed at their chin, then added, “Especially recently.”

“Huh.” You… weren’t sure how to take that. Did you really look happier? It was strange to hear. “I didn’t realize.” 

Your coworker offered you a smile. “Got anyone new around in your life you’re not telling me about or something?” they joked.   

You gave them back a sly look. “Something like that, yeah.” 

They laughed under their breath and grabbed the check to look at the total cost. “I’m happy for you. Truly.” They rummaged around in their pocket to pull out their credit card, and when you reached for your wallet as well, they waved you off. “Nuh uh. I’m covering.” 

You immediately protested. “I—“ 

“Nope! Zip it! You can foot the bill next time.” They winked at you, then slipped the check and their card to the edge of the table for the waitress to grab. “It’s only fair.”

You sighed, yet you couldn’t stop the small smile from lingering on your lips. “You got me there. I won’t forget this.” 

You and your coworker parted ways when you stayed back at the diner to order something to take back home for Sebastian. They gave you a knowing look, but didn’t say anything as they waved goodbye and ducked through the door. You paid for the takeout, then made your way to your car, where you drove back to your cottage in lighthearted spirits and relative peace. 

Bag dangling from one of your hands, you unlocked the front door and called out an “I’m home!” 

The navy darkness of the living room was illuminated dimly by the pale moonlight filtering through the doorway behind you. It allowed you to just be able to make out the shadow of Sebastian’s form as he uncurled from his typical spot in front of the couch and blinked those softly glowing eyes of his at you. 

“Welcome back,” he murmured as he reached up with a hand to tug on his lure. It flickered, once, twice, then settled in a low, golden light. “How was it?” 

“It was nice,” you said happily as you slipped off your shoes and closed the door. You padded over to him, holding out the bag of takeout. “Brought you back food. It’s some kind of pasta dish.”  

He hummed and waved a hand towards the coffee table. “Just… put it over there. ‘M not that hungry right now.” 

Slowly, you lowered the bag. And you took a short moment to observe him. The way his expression seemed pinched and tight, his lips pursed not quite into a frown but dangerously close. He avoided looking directly at you, and you felt your stomach sink with the clear sense that he was bothered by something. Was still bothered, you put together, by whatever had plagued him before you’d left for dinner. 

Your grip on the bag tightened. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he immediately replied stiffly. With his body coiled underneath him, he was elevated well over your head. You had to crane your neck back to peer up at his upset expression, but even so, he had angled himself in a way where you couldn’t quite see it.

“Sebastian.” You frowned at him, your tone taking on a warning cadence to not do this song and dance with you again. Patience, you reminded yourself with a deep breath. You reoriented yourself to gently say, “You can talk to me.” 

“I said it’s— it’s nothing,” he grumbled, one of his ear fins twitching slightly. “It’s dumb. Just—forget it.” 

“It’s not dumb,” you said firmly, and when all he did was snort disbelievingly, you stepped up closer so you could lightly touch the back of one of his hands. “Hey, look at me.” 

For a second, it seemed like he wanted to resist, as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and furrowed his brows. But, inevitable like the flow of the tide, he turned his head to grimace down at you. With your fingers moving to wrap around the tips of his own, you said quietly, “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” 

Sebastian exhaled harshly. His face scrunched up in barely-repressed frustration. Then, he tugged his hand away from your hold so he could vigorously scrub at his hair. 

“It’s just—“ he bit out roughly. His lips peeled back in a mild snarl, his lure darkening simultaneously. “Fuck— that should have been me.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. What?

When all you did was tilt your head at him confusedly, he groaned. “It— It should’ve been me taking you out to a stupid diner for a stupid dinner. You”—he swallowed heavily—“you deserve that much, yet I can’t even—“ He cut himself off abruptly and let out a long-suffering sigh, his tail shifting in agitation beneath him. 

You… didn’t even know what to say. His admittance had stolen all the words from your lips. Made your pulse thrum just a tad bit faster. Your hands flexed with the urge to reach out to him. But he wasn’t done just yet.

He rubbed wearily at his eyes with a hand. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad you’re going out and not staying inside like a hermit. But, shit, I just…” he trailed off and let loose another sigh, his entire body sagging like he couldn’t bear to keep himself up. 

“It should have been me and you,” he admitted quietly, his hand covering his face. 

A quiet, familiar sort of melancholy bloomed within your chest. Aching and unrelenting as it sank its fingers into your very fibers. 

It felt like the distance had simultaneously increased and decreased between the two of you again—heavy like shackles around your heart—as you watched him hide his face from you. But you refused to let it grow any further. Not if you could help it. 

Your gaze darted over to an open window nearby so you could catch a glimpse of the outside. Clear, midnight sky and an endless, shifting sea. It was late enough that the shore would likely be devoid of any others. 

With that in mind, you stepped back and held up your free hand at Sebastian in a ‘stop’ sign. “Wait right here. I have an idea.” 

You darted towards the kitchen without another word and snatched up various fruits from the basket to slip into the takeout bag you were still holding. A couple of granola bars and bags of chips from inside a cupboard got tossed in too. Opening the fridge next, you scanned its contents for any other light snacks and bottled drinks you could add. 

Once you deemed the bag sufficiently full enough, you beelined for your bedroom so you could rummage around in your closet for a large blanket. A small candle caught your attention as you searched, and after quick consideration, you snatched it up as well. 

With your arms full of everything you’d gathered, you bustled back into the living room, where Sebastian still lingered. He watched curiously—and with a bit of perplexion, you registered—as you stepped into a pair of slippers and tugged open the front door. You peered down at the cove, double checking that it was vacant, then tossed Sebastian a quick look over your shoulder. 

“C’mon,” you said, then trudged over to the path you always took to pick your way down to the cove. “And close the door behind you!” 

“What are you…” he trailed off, but you were too focused on your steps down jagged, slanted rocks to pay him any mind. 

You reached the sandy ground before he did and glanced behind you to watch him steadily slithering his way towards you, his tail rising and falling over the rough path like an oscillating wave. Turning back around, you shuffled towards the gently lapping edge of the ocean and set down the food bag once you were at a distance where the water wouldn’t touch you for a few meters. 

It was quick work to fan out the blanket and lay it down on the beach. Sebastian came up behind you as you grabbed the bag and chucked off your slippers so you could step onto the cloth. He didn’t say anything; just watched as you took out all the food and arranged them neatly on the blanket. 

“You still have that lighter?” you asked him while you grabbed the candle out of the bag and stuck it into the sand at the front edge of the blanket. A hand appeared over your shoulder from behind. You reached up to take it from him, then waved him to go around you. “Thanks. Now sit down, wouldja?” 

The sibilant sound of scutes shifting across sand was nearly swallowed by the flow of the waves. With a flick of your finger against the spark wheel, you lit the candle, shielding the wick with your palm to prevent it from getting snuffed out by a stray breeze. 

Lowering your hands, you looked up in time to watch Sebastian loop around the blanket in a way that allowed his tail to stretch out towards the ocean. Occasionally, the water brushed against the flat of his flukes. He settled atop the cloth parallel to you, his head tilting downwards to regard the spread of miscellaneous food between you and him.

“...What is this?” he asked quietly, though the budding disbelief you could hear in his voice told you he knew exactly what you were doing. 

You tossed the extinguished lighter towards him, then reached out to pick up one of the tangerines you’d brought down with you to begin peeling it. 

“It’s not much,” you told him, your nails breaking into the skin of the fruit to release a citrus-y scent, “but, well. We might not be able to go to a restaurant or— or a diner, or whatever. But this?” You shifted yourself around properly to face him and give him a small smile. “This we can do.” 

You looked down at the blanket, then back up. Lightheartedly, you added, “Consider it a picnic date.”

There was silence as Sebastian processed your words, interrupted only by the splashes of errant fish jumping out of the water in the distance beyond. The flesh of the tangerine was plump and bright as it revealed itself to you beyond the vivid peel. You picked at the loose strings still coating it. 

“You’re really something else, you know that?” Sebastian eventually murmured, a rosy blush igniting itself across his cheeks. He cleared his throat and scrubbed his hand at his face. “Sorry, I just…” 

His jaw tensed, and he moved to watch the push and pull of the tide instead of you. When he spoke, his voice was bitter and low. “Being up here just constantly fucking reminds me of how different I am now.” He opened a palm in front of him, staring down at the gray-blue color and thick, sharp fingers. He chuckled, but it was not a kind thing. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but clearly not.” 

That ever so present ache in your chest wouldn’t ever go away, it seemed, with all that Sebastian had to deal with. Was still dealing with. You hummed and leaned forward so you could set the peeled tangerine down in the middle of his palm. His head moved to look at you briefly, before his gaze turned back down to the fruit—so small and insignificant in his grasp. 

“I know, and I’m sorry it happened to you. Something as impactful as this might not ever truly be accepted,” you said as you settled back down onto the blanket. “The best we can do is just… accommodate as much as we can.”

Sebastian snorted, his fingers curling around the tangerine. “Kinda tough to accommodate this shit.” The end of his tail flicked up idly, thick and utterly immense. He sighed. “I don’t even have my fuckin’ piercings anymore, babe,” he drawled. “They had to take those from me too, I suppose.” 

Your lips quirked slightly at his dramatic tone. “It’s okay. At least now you don’t have to deal with it all alone, remember?” you told him assuredly as you reached out to pat his arm. “And I’ll tell you that for as many times as it takes to get it inside that thick head of yours,” you joked. 

“Ever the romantic,” Sebastian quipped dryly, then turned to watch the way the moonlight caressed the waves like the hand of a phantasmical ghost. The infinite open sky above glittered in abundance with all the lights of millions of stars. He breathed. “...Thanks. It helps, y’know? Don’t think I told you that, but it… It does.” 

Little by little, that strenuous ache relented in the face of a sprouting warmth—that came from a little Sebastian burrowing himself away tenderly in your chest. 

You smiled, close-eyed and sincere. “Always.” 

part six

[tendermiasma]

Good Patreon news! How these updates affect my own page:

Happy to report the forced migration from per-creation billing to subscription billing has been canceled until further notice. There will be no changes to my tiers or benefits this year.

The big "JOIN" button within the iOS app no longer has the 30% Apple fee tacked on. You are paying only the amount intended by creators.

You can now subscribe to me through the Patreon iOS app if you want. Previously, per-creation creators were removed from the app because Apple didn't support our billing model. We're back!

✨ If you want the rambly version, I made a public Patreon post.

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: the evil fungi did it

We all know of The Last of Us, but that franchise isn't the only example of fungal invasions. We've got zombies and apocalypses, we've got gothic horror, we've got fantasy, we've got romance, we've got space - no genre is safe from having their characters become the home of fungal organisms.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

The Girl with all the Gifts (The Girl with All the Gifts series) by M.R. Carey

Want another fungal zombie apocalypse? Then I come bearing great news! The Girl with All the Gifts is a post apocalyptic novel following a group of characters fleeing across an infested wasteland, trying to stay alive and hoping to find a cure. One of the characters is Melanie, a young girl who carries the contagion inside of her and hungers for flesh, but like many children of the apocalypse has kept her humanity. Is she and children like her the answer to the cure we are looking for? Or are they the start of something entirely new? This book has also been adapted as a movie!

Cold Storage by David Koepp*

Years ago, a quickly growing fungal organism capable of wiping out humanity came dangerously close to spreading. It was contained and kept in cold storage underneath a military repository. Since then, a larger storage facility has been built on top, the dangers on the lower floor being largely forgotten. That is, until it makes a new attempt at escape. Now, two unsuspecting security guards might be all that stands in the way of complete extermination. This book is both funny and genuine in its characters, and genuinely creepy in its portrayal of body horror.

Salvaged by Madeline Roux

Rosalyn Devar is on the run from her famous family, and has run so far she ended up in space. Now she works as a "space janitor", being sent off to clean up the remains of failed research expeditions. But in trying to cope with her problems, she has fucked up on her job multiple times, and is now close to losing her position. Her last chance is the Brigantine: a research vessel gone silent, all crew presumed dead. But when she arrives to salvage it, Rosalyn discovers the crew isn't as dead as presumed. But are they still human - and will Rosalyn be able to keep her own humanity?

The Annual Migration of Clouds by Premee Mohamed

Novella. Reid is a young woman living in a small community after a climate collapse. Resources are scarce, but Reid's biggest problem is Cad, a mind-altering fungal parasite that lives inside her body. When she is offered a rare chance at attending a far-away university in a secluded dome community, Reid must decide whether to leave or stay to help support her community.

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia*

Noemí Taboada is a glamorous and well-off young woman, but when she receives a frantic letter from her newly-wed cousin, Noemí must leave her glamorous life and travel to find out what is wrong. As she arrives at High Place, a mansion on the Mexican countryside, Noemí is met with mysteries and her cousin's new English family. As she tries to find out the truth behind High Place and its inhabitants, Noemí's only ally is the youngest son of the family. But will she be able to find out what so scared her cousin before it's too late for all of them?

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

A young pregnant woman flees a cult that left her body strange and changing in terrifying ways. Hiding from both a world wanting to oppress her and the cult seeking to force her back, she does her best to raise her children while trying to find out the truth of the cult and being pursued by a hunter in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Bleak and scary, Sorrowland is a book that will creep under your skin with horrors both fantastical and very, very real.

What Moves the Dead (Sworn Soldier duology) by T. Kingfisher

Novella. Alex Easton, retired soldier, travels to visit their childhood friends, siblings Madeline and Roderick Usher, after finding out that Madeline is dying. In the siblings' rural, ancestral home, Madeline walks in her sleep and looks to be fading away, while around it wildlife seems to be possessed by a strange force. With the help of a mycologist and an American doctor, Alex attempts to save Madeline and reveal the truth of her illness.

Wanderers (Wanderers duology) by Chuck Wendig

A strange illness has struck the United States: with no warning, random people with seemingly no connection simply get up and start walking. They do not eat, do not sleep, do not communicate, and they do not stop - and if you try to force them, they literally explode from the inside. Teenaged Shana isn't one of these sleepwalkers, but her little sister is. Unwilling to leave her sister on her own, Shana accompanies the growing flock of walkers, protecting them as one of many "shepherds". And this protection proves necessary, as the sleepwalkers is only the first step toward what might very well be the extinction of the human race. An 800 page epic, Wanderers is a slowburn apocalypse story with a multitude pov characters and plot threads, from fungal pandemics and all-knowing AI to the all too real portrayal of radicalization and bigotry.

The Dawnhounds (The Endsong series) by Sascha Stronach

The Dawnhounds is a book where you just kind of have to let the story and the world wash over you. It skirts the line of scifi and fantasy, with a futuristic world of environmentally friendly mushroom houses and deadly fungi bio weapons next to literally god-given superpowers and near-immortality. It’s really cool and unlike anything else I’ve ever read, but also a bit confusing. Bonus: it’s also sapphic!

Agents of Dreamland (Tinfoil Dossier trilogy) by Caitlín R. Kiernan

Novella. A government agent known only as the Signalman; a cult preying on the young and vulnerable, promising to usher in a new age; a woman who exists outside of time, searching for a way to save humanity. Agents of Dreamland is short, but includes many spooky elements, among them an alien and possibly world-ending fungi. The narrative is non-linear and a bit strange, but also fascinating.

The Genius Plague by David Walton

Soon after landing his dream job at the NSA, things get weird for Neil Johns. His brother Paul, a mycologist, returns from a trip to the Amazon, carrying a nearly lethal fungal infection and a strangely sharpened mind. At work, Neil starts picking up mysterious messages originating out of South America, where cases similar to that of Paul starts occurring. And strangest of all: all the infected seem to be working towards the same goal. Recommended with the caveat that, while the fungal stuff is really cool, The Genius Plague is also happy to idolize American intelligent agencies and demonize environmentalism and anti-imperialism.

Little Mushroom: Judgement Day (Little Mushroom duology) by Shisi

An Zhe isn’t human. He’s a mushroom who absorbed the DNA of a dying man, allowing him to take on human guise and leave the wilderness. Entering one of the last human bases, a place struggling to keep out the mutated and dangerous creatures of the wilds, An Zhe must keep his identity secret as he searches for something which was taken from him. While not my cup of tea (frankly, I need more female characters), Little Mushroom is an undeniably unique m/m romance novel.

Bonus AKA these don't technically involve any fungi but have similar vibes of parasites and nature corrupting the human

Parasite (Parasitology trilogy) by Mira Grant*

In the near future, a great leap in medical science has improved human health by leaps and bounds: a genetically engineered tape worm. Within a few years, almost every human has their own personal parasite implanted. But now, something is happening to the parasites - they want more, whether their hosts want to share or not.

Annihilation (Southern Reach trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

For decades, Area X has been completely cut off from humanity. The only ones to enter are small organized expeditions, many of which never return, or return... wrong. We follow the latest expedition, its participants known only as the anthropologist, the psychologist, the surveyor, and our narrator, the biologist. As they enter into Area X to try to find out its secrets, only one thing is for sure: they will never be the same again.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Young adult. Over a year ago, the Raxter School for Girls was hit by the Tox, a strange disease that killed off many and left the survivors' bodies slowly changing in terrifying ways. The island the school is on has been in quarantine since then, and the girls dare not leave the school grounds lest they become victims of wild animals changed by the Tox. But as they wait for the promised cure, one of the girls goes missing, and her friends are willing to do anything to find her. Unsettling, spooky, and sapphic, this is a unique read featuring body horror and messy, dangerous girls.

(Second) Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

City of Saints and Madmen (Ambergris trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

Ambergris, a city created by a mushroom-like people, is now the home of humans, but the original inhabitants are still there, residing beneath the city.

Creatures of Want and Ruin (Diabolist's Library series) by Molly Tanzer

It’s the prohibition era, and while Ellie does fishing during the day, at night she bootlegs moonshine in Long Island. But unbeknownst to Ellie, some of the booze she smuggles has a strange source: distilled from mushrooms by a cult, it causes those who drink it to see terrible things, such as the the destruction of Long Island.

Bloom by Wil McCarthy

The inner solar system has been overtaken by fast-reproducing, fast-mutating technogenic life. Humanity has fled to the outer solar system, hiding beneath the ice of Jupiter's moon, but even here they aren't safe from possible incursion of mycospores, which lead to deadly blooms. Now a group of astronauts venture back to an infected Earth.

[fawcetttweets]

All Fawcett Tweets Masterlist (oldest to newest)

ON HIATUS

Storylines will have an acronym next to it to identify them! The current storylines are: Pig Migration (PM).

Tweets use normal links, but private messages are blue with italics!

(The master list may be a few posts behind sometimes.)

The Cheese

Todays Foresight

The Walk of the Trees

#SassyCap

Pig Migration (PM1)

AITA?

Early Fish Gets The Caterpillar

ACAP (PM2)

Bake Sale

Secret Tweets (PM3)

Close Call

Protection (PM4)

#DoTheSmilesMatch

Pg 13

Automatic Response (PM5)

The B in ACAB (PM6)

Spare Change?

Cyberbullying

A Concerned Friend

Self Promotion

Loser (PM7)

Boop!

NOT a Judgment Free Zone

Lightning Wilhelm

Press ‘more’ for more information on the blog such as asks, blog tags and organization, my main account, and disclaimers!

Asks:

Suggest anything! It may take me quite a while to answer since I don't post every day and have lots of asks, but I love getting them! These tweets take a lot of time and effort so please be patient :)

Tags:

Any tweet posts are tagged with #FawcettTweets

Any non-tweet posts are tagged as #Rambles if your interested in that! Some have additional information about the story and some are just me rambling!

The occasional reblog will be not be sorted with tags.

My fan art and fan fiction:

If you’re interested in more Captain Marvel and DC fan fiction/fan art made by me, check out my main Tumblr, TikTok, and Ao3 accounts! All of them use the username @chaoticallyfluffy !

My Tumblr is mostly fanart and posts about Billy, though you should use the tags in my pinned post to find it since I reblog a lot of unrelated stuff. Anything I created that has to do with this fandom will be tagged #shazam or #dc

My TikTok is mostly animatics about Billy and occasionally other characters.

My ArchiveOfOurOwn account is where all my fanfiction lives! At the time of writing this I have posted three finished and one unfinished fic that I am currently rewriting.

Disclaimer:

I do not support Twitter/X and I highly recommend you don’t either. I am using an app to create fake tweets rather than using the actual app. If you are wondering why, please do your own research because If I try to talk about I’ll rant for ages. Basically, corporate greed, billionaires, AI, and a bunch of other crap.

You can trust that I will NEVER use AI or support anything/anyone that uses it. It is stealing from artists, writers, and everyone else and it is destroying the planet.

Disclaimer 2, Electric Boogaloo:

This is an AU and characters will be OOC sometimes. If you don’t like that, keep scrolling or block me.

Thank you for reading!

[httpsserene]

I love your entire page, so I was thrilled to see that your requests are open. May I request a story with Daniel Ricciardo x Reader? Perhaps something where the reader is experiencing a moment of low self-esteem, comparing herself to his ex, and feeling down since they've recently started dating, yet the fans want his ex back. When Danny is dominant it makes me melt so perhaps a smut that is center on body worshipping yet leads to crazy back shots/missionary. He made you come multiple times and despite you trying to tap out , he’s not stopping anytime soon creating a big creamy mess 🫠

httpsserene's 2k Special | T.D.R.E.

synopsis: she’s the most-hated formula one wag. at first, she was optimistic, the fans would eventually get over it and maybe even start liking her—but she now knows that was a pretty naive thought. she’s constantly compared to Daniel’s ex-girlfriend—she’s not as pretty as her, she’s not as supportive as her, she’s not as popular as her, etc. in a moment of low self-esteem—she breaks and thinks maybe the fans are right. Daniel, with a sixth sense of knowing when you’ve lost your mind, comes home and sees you gathering every belonging of yours that’s migrated to his apartment like you’re breaking up with him. he tries to change your mind with his words, but that doesn’t quite reassure you completely; so he has no choice but to do it with his actions, too.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. okay it's a couple hours late, but i was hit with a little creative genius and i think you guys will really enjoy this one! and it's the longest one too! an entire five-thousand words wow. aren't you glad i added more to this?

read the rest of the 2k special uploads here.

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tomorrow 2 — 𝐝𝐫. 𝟑 daniel ricciardo x fem!black!reader 5k words. explicit sexual content. no beta we die like men. angst with a happy ending. hurt/comfort. dom/sub undertones. arguing. breaking up/making up. those three little words. attempt at humor (a lil bit). implied subspace. insecure!reader. body worship. vaginal sex. oral sex (female receiving). online hate. overstimulation. protected sex. aftercare.

You’re trending on Twitter. No—not for one of your TikToks that you hope went viral, but under the hashtag #breakupwithherdaniel. Fans have decided to start a movement to make signs to take to the next Grand Prix, with pictures of your face posted next to that hashtag. In all of the tweets, they’re commenting on how they wished Daniel and his ex were still together, or comparing you to her, and saying that you’re toxic—you! In this situation, where none of the people online personally know you and take to bashing you on the internet; you are the toxic one! And that’s the last straw. You start packing your shit up into bags and whatever boxes you can find. A large amount of your belongings have migrated to Daniel’s apartment, even if you don’t officially live with him. You’ve been dating him for just over six months, and the entire time your relationship has been public his fans have harassed you.

They prefer his ex over you, it’s that simple. It probably doesn’t help that you’re not like one of the white models everybody thinks f1 drivers should date, but enough is enough. It didn’t bother you at first, you thought with just a little time everyone would calm down but the opposite has happened. They’ve only gotten worse and things have escalated to the point where it’s affecting your career and—you can’t take it anymore. And, maybe they’re right. Daniel doesn’t deserve to date a girl who can’t take the harsh eye of the media and fans. He’d be better off without you, and he might certainly be better off with his ex. She was there in his darkest times and his brightest successes. They ended on good terms so with a little charm, Daniel wouldn’t have a problem with getting back with her, surely. 

You’re throwing your bags on the living room couch, pulling a suitcase you left here from when you last traveled with him to throw your shoes into. And then, you hear the door open. 

Daniel’s happy voice carries to you from the entryway, “Baby, I’m home! I stopped at the store to pick up a slice of your favorite cake, because I know you’ve been needing some cheering up—”

You hear his steps halt as he sees you in the living room, bags and boxes filled to the brim with your stuff. 

“Baby?” Daniel asks, “What’s this about? This is late for it to be spring cleaning.”

You shake your head, swallowing softly as you turn to meet his eyes, “I’m leaving, Daniel.”

“What?” Daniel says confused.

“Don’t make it any more difficult than it needs to be,” you start, unable to fight back your tears any longer, “Just let me get my stuff and leave.”

Daniel rushes to you, pulling you to look at him, holding your arms still when you try to push him away from you.

“You’ve got to give me more than that. You’re leaving—why? Is it something I did? Did I say something? How long have you felt like this? I could’ve—I can fix it, baby. Don’t leave me,” Daniel pleads, his own eyes radiating how hurt, confused, and disbelieving he feels, “I thought we were strong? We’re the closest to being perfect, I thought. We barely argue; and even when we do it’s resolved properly. I don’t yell, I don’t talk to other women, I don’t ignore your calls or messages, I’m not possessive, I’m not crazy–what can I do? For you to stay, what can I do?”

“Nothing, Daniel. You can’t change my mind. But—it’s not your fault, okay? It’s me,” you cry harder when Daniel scoffs at your response, “I’m serious, Danny. It’s my fault.  I can’t take it anymore okay? You’re better off without me; I’m a distraction, I’m not as supportive as I should be, I’m not your type–you’d just perform and be happier without me, okay?”

“Fuck no,” Daniel emphasizes, “Who the hell is telling you that? Because I know you seriously don’t believe that. You’re the best thing to happen to me in my entire life, baby. You’re not a distraction, you support me tirelessly, and you sure as hell are my type. I can’t keep my hands off of you, you scold me all the time for that so, how can you say that ‘you’re not my type?’ I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with you, ask anybody, baby.”

You groan angrily, “Not anybody! Have you asked your fucking fans? They sure as hell think that I’m the devil reincarnated. I can’t do anything publicly without being verbally harassed for it. I can’t dress the way I want to, I can’t act the way I want to, and I can’t even go to work! Your little fangirls are affecting my career—and I can’t do it anymore. They’ve won. I can’t take the judgment anymore, not for me just existing. You’d be happier with your ex, just like they want you to be.”

You and Daniel stare at each other silently, the air tense. 

“What do you mean,” Daniel pauses, his jaw tightening, “What do you mean they’re affecting your career?”

“They’re threatening to fire me because of my image. They’re saying I’m smearing the company's appearance,” you sigh out, picking at your cuticles anxiously. Daniel grabs your hands, stopping you.

“I’m going to kill them, baby–”

“Daniel!” you cut him off, aghast.

“No, I don’t care,” He dismisses, “The nerve of them to convince you that you’re not good enough for me. I should’ve kept asking you if you were bothered by the negative attention, but ever since you told me that you could handle it, I never checked in. And, I failed to see that it was getting worse. Worse enough to make you think that you need to leave to escape it. I’m going to embarrass those fans publicly and I’m going to get the team to back me up. As far as your job, I always hated them anyway. I never liked how they would deny your vacation time even though you had the days—you should quit.”

You stare at him deadpan, “Daniel Ricciardo. I’m not quitting my job and I am also still leaving.”

“Mhm, no,” Daniel scoffs hysterically, “You’re not breaking up with me. And, you would have a better reason to quit, if you stayed with me. I’ll retire you and make you my trophy wife, please.  Seriously, babe. Don’t leave. I should’ve dealt with the fans earlier, I know—it’s my fault that it even reached this point. Please, just stay with me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, crumbling into tears again, “They all seem to think your ex is a better fit and…I think I agree with them.”

Daniel gathers you into his arms, tucking you into his shoulder, “Baby, I broke up with her for a reason. And, I’m glad I did. All of those chronically online fans have no clue about why I broke up with her. I couldn’t imagine going back into that relationship, especially now that I’ve found you. Let me prove it to you, baby.

You sob, “How are you going to prove anything to me right now? Can I just be dramatic for a little longer?”

He laughs, giddy at the sound of your usual antics, “Well, I am going to set the media on fire with the language I use to address how the world has been disrespecting you. But first, I’m going to take you to bed and remind you what you’d be missing out on if you left. What other man could learn to know you as intimately as I do, hm? C’mon, baby—let me prove it to you. Let your body decide.”

Leaning back to look at him through your tears,  you think,  fuck it, why not?

Daniel presses you into the bed; you whine out desperately when he breaks the kiss, your eyes focused on the plush warmth of his lips as you try to chase them. The eagerness of your actions only dawns on you as you see his lips shift into a smiling laugh then, the embarrassment washes over you; honestly, you think, you can’t act like you can’t live without having his lips touching yours—he might find your yearning repulsive. Did his ex act like this for him? What if that’s why he broke up with her—

“Heyheyhey—don’t hide from me, baby,” Daniel coos concerned, his hand gently coaxing you to turn your head and meet his eyes, you didn’t even notice when you moved to hide your face with the pillow; he continues, “Where’d you go just then, pretty girl? Please tell me, baby, don’t hold it in.”

You meet his troubled gaze, and the love and care you see pouring out causes fresh tears to dance across your waterline. Through your blurry sight, you see Daniel’s brow furrow saddeningly as he carefully pulls you up into a sitting position and holds you tightly as you cry into his shoulder. His left hand massages the back of your neck, and his right hand finds a calming rhythm as he rubs your back. Your tears taper out quicker, and you wonder if you’ve exhausted their supply from the crying you’ve done today.

You draw back from his embrace, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, and your voice shakes and cracks as you begin to speak, “I’ve never been this insecure about myself. I couldn’t give a single fuck about what people say or think about me. But, today? It was just too much, Danny. Seeing all of your fans tear down every aspect of me; my personality, my looks, my body—why? And, they’re doing it under the reasoning that, I’m not good for you. Like, you’re not a grown man, who can decide who he wants to date? I support you quietly and loudly and’ll do it forever, but that’s not enough for them. And, today, it felt like it would  never be enough.

“So, when I saw them making signs, t-to…to encourage you to break up with me,” Daniel muffles a sound of hurt in his chest, “I was humiliated. I-I, didn’t want that sort of attention for you, they should be focused on your racing, not your undeserving girlfriend. And, I thought I’d make it easy for you and leave.”

“Baby, no…”

“You’re such a good boyfriend, Daniel. It would be so much easier for you to end this relationship and go back to your ex, or date some other girl that satisfies you and your fans—”

“Babe, no,” Daniel cuts you off, his tone hardened, “The only person that needs to be satisfied with you is me. And, I am. The opinions of those fucking idiots don’t matter to me, and they shouldn’t matter to you. Because that’s all they are: opinions, and they’re absolutely stupid opinions, at that. They’re comments have done the complete opposite of convincing me to leave you. They’ve shown me that I need to let you know how much I want you with me—they’ve made me realize that I need to let you know that I love you.”

Your eyes widen, your breath stuttering. It’s the first time, he’s said it.  Daniel loves you.

Sobbing softly, you murmur, “I hope you’re not only saying those three words because you think it’s going to make me happy. Because, I do love you, too.”

Daniel laughs wetly. “I’m saying that I love you now because you need to know that. I would’ve preferred to say it under different circumstances but, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And—fuck everybody who’s saying you’re not good enough for me. If anything, I’m not good enough for you. I haven’t even won you a trophy, yet.”

You stare at him in disbelief, “Shut the fuck up. You’re everything to me. You could be driving the slowest car on the grid and I would still be celebrating your last-place finishes like you’ve won the championship.”

Daniel stares at you silently and you nearly fear that you’ve broken him. He sighs out lovingly before, leaning down and pressing kisses across your entire face to wash away your tear tracks. He finishes with a barely there kiss to the tip of your nose and asks quietly, “Let me show you that I love you. I don’t think saying it is enough.”

You look at him. You find what you’re looking for because you agree, “Okay.”

Daniel perks up, “Okay?”

You nod, slowly sliding down to rest on your back against the bed like you were before. “Yes.”

Your boyfriend shifts to kneel in between your legs, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, and once he gets confirmation from you, he smoothly pulls it off of you, dropping it off the bedside. His hands spread across the expanse of your abdomen and move to rest on your waist as he buries himself in the length of your neck. He nips kisses and presses of tongue along your brown skin, surprising you often with the ache of teeth and suction to bloom bruises. When he slides downwards, he paints your collarbone and decolletage loosely, the irritated flesh only sends flares of pleasure across your nerves. Daniel huffs in frustration as the straps of your bra disrupt the smooth skin across your shoulders, and he pulls you upwards to arch into him as he slips his hand underneath to unclasp the closure. You’re brain comes online to help him remove the offending fabric as you shrug out of the straps and desperately fling the bra to a corner of the room you can’t care to look at.

Daniel hums thankfully and resumes tracing along your shoulder, down your arms, and to the bones of your wrists and tips of your fingers with gentle hands followed by his lips. 

He swallows before speaking, “Whenever you’re splayed out so prettily underneath me, I forget how to act. The cloudy look in your eyes, your chest covered with my love, the muscles in your shoulders and arms relaxed and syrupy—so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”

You can’t find the words to respond to him because your entire body sings out when Daniel’s lips suction around your nipple. You feel his tongue swirl around, wetting it before his teeth join in and scrape softly against the sensitive bud. He releases you and even though your eyelids have fluttered shut at the feeling, you feel him watching you as your back rises off the bed and your head falls back. His hand finds its place right underneath your breasts, and he pushes you back down into the mattress and holds you there as he continues the assault of his lips on your chest. You can only cry out with every tug of his teeth, every suckle of his lips on the surrounding skin, whimpers choked down as his mouth ravages you entirely. Your hand flies to Daniel’s hair for purchase, and to press his head further into your chest, but he pulls away.

“Forgive me—but I love your chest, baby. I love how you let me take naps on them and play with my hair, I love the feeling of them in my hand, I love making you scream every time I play with them. And, you taught me that the only answer to ass versus boobs is both of them. Because, I would willingly suffocate in either of them, and all of you.”

Your chest heaves as you try to regain some air in your lungs, but Daniel doesn’t let you breathe for a second, “One day, I hope you let me fuck your pretty chest.”

Your mouth drops open, as you flounder for the air and words required to respond to his statement.

“Another time, though. May I take off your pants, baby? I  need to fuck you.”

“Yesyes—please, hurry up,” you rush out, already moving to shimmy out of your bottoms, Daniel tugging them off roughly when they get caught around your ankles. The strength he uses slides you down the bed a little, and you can’t help but muffle a gasp underneath your hand. 

He pulls your hand from your mouth in an instant, “No. Not tonight. I let you get away with hiding your sounds from me before, but I need to know how good I’m making you feel,” he pauses to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist and continues, “Be as loud as you want, love.”

You nod jerkily, and Daniel lowers your arm to rest against the bed carefully, before he shuffles down the bed, resting on his stomach and spreading your legs to drape along his shoulders. He starts with your right leg; nipping at the bone of your ankle before following with a soothing touch of his lips, and moving upwards, biting and kissing along the muscles of your calf, the inside of your knee. He slows when he reaches the plush meet of your thigh, taking his time biting the muscle and laving over the teeth marks he leaves with his tongue. He repeats the treatment along your left leg, ignoring how he can see the wetness dripping out of you, darkening the fabric of your panties. 

“Love your legs, baby,” Daniel breaths shakily, “Calves, and thighs, muscle, and all plush skin. If I could choose how to go out, it would be in between them. Doesn’t matter if they’re around my waist, or my head—it’s fucking paradise, baby.”

Your thighs shudder as if they’ve heard his words, and Daniel notices immediately. His hands move to grasp them and let his thumbs dig into the fresh marks he’s added against your brown skin. You keen airily, your thighs attempting to shut, but Daniel’s hands keep you spread with little effort. He leans down and hides his smile by pressing his mouth to your panties. He proceeds to noisily kiss along your covered cunt, dragging his tongue and nose through the soaked fabric, humming amusedly when your hips buck down onto him, one of his hands shifting to press your pelvis to the mattress.

You’re mortified. Daniel’s pretty much making out with your cunt over your panties, and he seems to be enjoying it as much as you if the way his hips are rocking along the bed is any telling when you raise your head to stare down at him. His eyes shut as he loses himself between your legs; he looks blissed out and you drop your head back against the mattress, bringing your hand to tangle in the mess of his curls. He pulls away with a grunt and you tug at his hair annoyed, sitting up slightly to see what he stopped for—

His eyes are wild, drenched with lust. Daniel doesn’t waste time pulling your panties off, roughly tugging the fabric covering your cunt to the side, tucking it in the dip between your groin and thigh. You see his eyes roll back slightly at the sight of you before he shuts them and dives forward to bring his mouth down on your cunt. His tongue pushes inside of you sloppily and his nose makes sure your clit is always receiving attention. The only option you have is to choke on your moans and grasp for stability in his hair and the sheets of the bed. Your tummy undulates at the pleasure racketing up your spinal cord, it’s too much to process already. And in a split-second, Daniel’s tongue is exchanged for two of his fingers, your cunt thoroughly soaked with a mix of your wetness and his spit, and the stretch is mild, more of a welcomed soreness than pain. Daniel’s eyes open to watch your face closely, you’re too busy moaning to verbally assure him to continue, but he understands (the continuous desperate roll of your hips against his grasp is a helpful clue). 

He massages his fingers into you rapidly, brushing along the sensitive wall along the top of your cunt—and it dawns on you very quickly that you are going to cum. He must see the realization wash over your face, or through the signs of your body, but he avoids your g-spot to scissor his fingers inside of you to stretch you out, a third joining the rest when you huff down at him angrily. The new stretch quiets you, loud whines and moans hushed for a moment as you savor the ache. Yet, you quickly hunger for more, unapproving of the sudden gentleness Daniel exhibits.

“Danny, please,” you cry, “C’mon—fuck me, already. ‘m gonna cum.”

He pulls his fingers from the grasp of your vagina and manhandles you onto your front, stomach flat against the bed. With firm hands, he pulls your hips upwards, one hand sliding down your back to deepen the arch and push your ass further out. The insecurity and shyness you had earlier have dissipated; you’d like to be fucked, now. You spread your knees wider and rock back even more.

“Fuck,” Daniel croaks out, and he rushes to grab a condom from the nightstand. You’re sure he’s relatively quick about the entire ordeal; of losing his pants, grabbing the condom, and rolling it on himself, but it feels like ages, and you can’t help but huff out angrily. Thankfully, you feel his left hand come back to rest on your ass and feel the head of his cock tap along your cunt. 

Your hole parts for him prettily and Daniel sinks in smoothly, not stopping until your ass meets his hips. You whine softly, the ache of him finding a home within you will never lose its luster. Daniel shudders behind you, the grip of his hand on your ass shaking—his breathing heavy as it echoes around the room. 

“Fuck,” Daniel moans again, “Love your cunt, pretty girl. Hot, wet, and tight,” he falls forward, and nuzzles into the hair at the nape of your neck, before pressing a kiss at the back of your neck, and rising again, “‘s so good…I-I can’t find the words right now.”

You giggle softly into the bed and Daniel takes the green light when you press back against him. He begins to thrust into you, hard enough to punch the breath out of your lungs. He’s never fucked you this forcefully before; his motions are erratic, yet somehow he’s nailing the spot inside of you with every other pass of his hips. The sound of your skin meeting manages to be hidden by the screams and moans you manage to release when you find enough air in your lungs. Daniel’s other hand wraps around your front and presses down on your pelvis, tightening your inner walls. And, your vision whites out.

Your legs give out and you feel yourself slouch into the mattress, but Daniel is quick to hold your hips up for you and continues to rail into you, not allowing you any respite. You can hear yourself babbling, but you can’t make out what you’re saying. The heat of Daniel’s chest radiates over your back and you feel his breath wash over your spine, his endearments and praise you hear but can’t understand as the pleasure has blinded your senses. What you can feel, is how his thrusts continue and don’t slow. 

You regain control of your body when he rotates you onto your back, he only pulls out briefly while he grabs a pillow to shove underneath your hips before he falls back inside of you. At this angle, Daniel feels larger than life, knocking against buttons inside of you you’re sure he’s only ever discovered. It’s too much. He fucks into you slowly, the press of his cock slow but strong, the motion pushing you up the bed slightly.

You gasp, moans erupting out of you when you attempt to speak. You manage to keep your eyes open long enough to look at Daniel and see the pleased smile on his face. He moves one hand from your hip to cradle your cheek and swipes a tear that escaped from the corner of your eye away. 

“Oh,” Daniel hushes you softly, “Gone for me already, aren’t you?”

“T-t-oo much,” you stutter, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, “ feels s’good.”

He chuckles quietly, the noise fading into a moan as your cunt clenches around him, “Too much or it feels good, pretty girl? You’re going to have to pick one.”

Daniel’s thrusts get rougher, and he stops pulling out nearly all the way and focuses on digging into you deeper; making sure to drag himself along that place inside you with every thrust. Your scream breaks as soon as it leaves your mouth, the unyielding stimulation feels white hot. You take a shaky hand and drag it down Daniel’s chest, from his tattoos to his abdomen, and push against him while simultaneously trying to raise your hips away from his.

“No, baby,” Daniel coos down at you, knocking your hand away from his abs, and continuing to press inside of you, pulling your hips down, “Don’t run from me. Take it. You know what to say if it’s too much for you.”

You do know what to say. But, the knot inside your tummy starts tightening again, and the overwhelming amount of pleasure isn’t too much. You can take it. Daniel rocks down to kiss you, but you’re too out of it to exactly figure out how to make your lips work, and his eyes shine. He moves to bite at your neck, you feel him speaking against your skin and it takes a few listens to realize he saying, “I love you,” over and over again. His thrusts get choppier and you know he’s close when his hand slips down to play with your clit. This orgasm feels different than the first. It feels like it burns your nerve endings with just how powerfully pleasurable it is. You can vaguely feel Daniel collapse against you as he rides out his climax, but you’re more concerned with the absolute ecstasy you find yourself floating in.

You blink a few times and you fail to adequately process what’s going on around you. You feel Daniel pull out of you, rubbing soothingly along your hips and thighs as he massages any soreness away. You can’t make out his words, but they sound warm and loving making you feel light and fluffy. You don’t recall him moving from the bed, but he suddenly has a warm rag pressed against your inner thighs to clean you up, and your ruined panties are gone. When he tries to wipe against your cunt, you slam your legs shut, jerking away from him. He doesn’t force your legs back open, but he eventually manages to clean up enough of your wetness that he’s comfortable to wait until you’re clear-minded. 

Daniel pulls you onto his lap and continues murmuring words of affection into the air, you feel them vibrate through his chest. You begin to rise out of whatever state you were in and shift in his lap, “Danny,” you try to speak, but your voice cracks roughly. He’s quick to grab a bottle of water on the nightstand and opens it for you, helping you drink as your arms are still too shaky. 

“When did you grab the water?” you question softly, you down nearly the entire bottle, and move to snuggle back into his chest, bringing your shaky hand up to trace his tattoos. 

“You don’t remember?” Daniel questions calmly, watching as you shake your head in dissent, “I think you were a little out of it after that orgasm. You melted into the bed—I couldn’t get you to say anything.”

“Oh,” you offer, looking up at him to read his face. You find nothing but love, so you figure it can’t be a bad thing.

“Do you know what subspace is?”

“No?”

Daniel nods understandingly and changes the subject, “I got this piece of cake for you earlier at the store. Can you eat it for me now and drink a little more water, baby? I’ll put on that crime show you like too.”

You agree to eat and drink as long as Daniel does too. Your hand shakes as you try to bring the fork to your mouth so you let Daniel feed you, he seems more than happy to do it for you. You kind of like it anyway, him taking care of you. You feel like your normal self halfway through the second episode of the show playing on the TV. You slide off of Daniel’s lap to sit beside him and focus on the show, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs, the plot of the show finally being processed by your brain.

“I’m going to go grab something from the living room, okay?” Daniel checks in on you, waiting for you to answer affirmatively, “Finish up that cake for me, love.”

You hum, grabbing the container from him and continuing to munch along as Daniel does what he needs to. He reenters the room with one of the boxes you had packed away. Daniel doesn’t look at you, he just opens up the box and starts putting all your belongings back to where they used to be. He pulls one of your heavier sweaters out of the box and moves to hang it up in the closet.

“No,” you say, voice scratchy. You watch Daniel turn to face you slowly like he thinks you’re going to tell him that you’re still leaving, 

“That sweater doesn’t belong in the closet. It gets folded and placed in the bottom row of the dresser.”

Daniel sighs relieved and smiles at you, “Okay. What about this one too, where does that go?”

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. mdni divider by @cafekitsune.

[dawnfelagund]

The last couple of days have been heavier topics, with data on who speaks by gender and character group, so today seemed a good day for a post that is only semi-serious!

Because it doesn't actually mean much to talk more than Ilúvatar in The Silmarillion. Ilúvatar has a lot of lines and is prone to speech-making so has a high word count as well, but it's not like the four characters who speak more than him are trying to one-up God or anything. But we're Silmarillion fans and anything related to our characters feels political, so it's fun to consider which of them talk more than God.

In fact, the four characters who do are interesting in part because their dialogue is so different. Melian's dialogue is mostly in conversation, with Thingol or Galadriel. Fëanor has a variety of different dialogue but also makes some lengthy speeches; his speech to the Noldor prior to their exile is the third longest in the book (excluding two instances of "group speeches"). Túrin is the exact opposite: He speaks a lot, but his instances of dialogue are unusually short. The median length of an instance of dialogue across the book is thirty-one words, but the median for Túrin's dialogue is twenty-one words.

Thingol, of course, comes out on top as the character who speaks the most instances of dialogue AND the most words, topping Ilúvatar in both of these categories.

Returning to Melian and continuing yesterday's discussion of gender and speech, the woman who speaks the most after Melian is Yavanna, with ten instances of dialogue (most of them in the Christopher Tolkien-authored "Of Aulë and Yavanna). This means that Melian and Yavanna speak more than half of the dialogue uttered by women in The Silmarillion.

Of course, I'm always interested in pseudohistorical readings of The Silmarillion, particularly thinking about who is telling the story at what points and how the story Tolkien gives us is shaped by narrative point of view.

In this case, Thingol as the top talker makes sense given that the Beleriandic materials were collected by Pengolodh, who counted as a major source the refugees from Doriath who migrated, as did he, to Sirion's mouth. Dírhaval, who is credited with Túrin's story, would have likewise heard much of Thingol (and Melian) from his sources. It makes sense that Thingol, Túrin, and Melian are written with more immediacy than other characters are, who likely felt less accessible to the narrators.

What about Fëanor? The Aman materials were authored by Rúmil and passed to Pengolodh. I've always felt like Rúmil's sections portray Fëanor with more humanity than Pengolodh's sections do, though I've not yet drilled down into the data on this. The dialogue data seems to support that, at least, Rúmil perceived Fëanor as a character important enough that his words were worth preserving. That may seem like a "doh" statement, but consider how many important moments throughout The Silmarillion occur without us hearing dialogue from anyone at all. Multiple of Fëanor's speeches, on the other hand, were preserved.

---

This is part of my ongoing project The Silmarillion: Who Speaks? The data is available under a CC license for others who wish to play with it: View the data | Copy the data

Previous posts:

Dialogue by Chapter Dialogue by Character Group Dialogue by Gender

The entire project is archive on the Silmarillion Writers' Guild.

[sparkbirdmusic]

when I was in Texas on tour, I went birding at a natural area that sits right at the US-Mexico border. my understanding is that this border wall has been there since the Bush era, though it may have been upgraded.

seeing birds fly back and forth over it underscored how artificial the line is.

ICE’s violent actions (raids, detentions, family separations, and other innumerable crimes) predate the current administration and continue regardless of which party is in power. it’s a time-honored american pastime: criminalizing migration and militarizing a land that was never meant to be carved up like this.

anyway fuck ICE and fuck deportations and fuck the politics of respectability that say BIPOC folks living in terror should protest politely

idk what to do so I made this post and donated to We the People NYC because they feed people in my neighborhood. look up mutual aid organizations in your area that support undocumented people and donate or (even better??) find out how to get more involved

[writtenbyeli]

CHARLES LECLERC

sleeping beauty / july 13, 2025

main masterlist 🖇️ home

warnings: use of y/n

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

night races were your weakness. the races that went on through the early morning were the hardest ones to attend.

you loved being there to support charles, but somehow they always ended with you, asleep, halfway across the paddock.

it had become a running joke at this point, all the drivers and their teams were aware of your habit. they would often notify others when they found you sleeping somewhere, and it would slide down the grapevine til it was back to square one, charles.

the first night race of the season, saudi arabia.

combined with jet lag, a messed up sleep schedule, the tiring events of the day, and naturally getting sleepy once the sun set, it was inevitable.

the crowd was buzzing, fans and reporters flocking to the nearest source of entertainment.

the race was nearly halfway through and charles was doing phenomenal. the slight wind blowing through the hospitality was almost lulling you into a slumber.

the noise drowned out around you as your brain was begging to get some much needed sleep.

if you were going to take a nap, it was going to be somewhere comfortable. you’d always found yourself walking through the paddock until you found the most optimal sleeping spot.

you exited the ferrari garage, waving to the engineers and spectators.

you passed through practically every single pit until you wound up in the mclaren garage.

against the wall in the very back, you spotted a beautiful plush white couch with throw pillows and wool blankets galore.

the sight made your body instantly unwind. you pulled out your noise cancelling headphones—which charles had insisted you bring—and flopped down onto your new bed for the night. well, not for the night—just until your boyfriend found you.

you gently pulled a few pillows under your head, slinging two large blankets over your torso.

finally, sliding your headphones into place, everything went quiet. this was exactly what you needed.

as the race was finishing up, zak was making his rounds and spotted you in the corner. he tapped on an engineers shoulder. “leclerc girlfriend on the couch over there, can you pass the message.”

the engineer responded with a quick thumbs up, and as he was heading through the mercedes pit, he spotted toto. “hey man, leclerc’s girl is asleep in the mclaren garage, i have to head back can you relay this to charles?”

“yeah, yeah man.” he nodded, instantly radioing the ferrari team. “hey, she’s sleeping in mclaren.”

a name wasn’t even necessary, they’d been through this situation many times during the past few years.

“thanks, i’ll let him know.” one of the technicians radioed back.

he stood at the pit entrance, waiting for charles to finish his post-race interview and come back from the cooldown room.

“hey, she’s in mclaren.” the tech stopped charles, pointing in the direction of their garage.

“sounds good, thanks for letting me know.” he breathily laughed in response. of course you were asleep. you migrated to the comfiest place you could find and passed out. that was something he loved about you, your ability to adapt.

as he stepped foot into mclaren territory, lando met him at the door. “what’s up leclerc, why you here?”

“she’s sleeping in here somewhere” charles snickered, hoping lando would help look for you.

it didn’t take long though, zak spotted charles and pointed towards the back of the room.

he slowly made his way over to you, noting how soft your features looked when you were asleep, how beautiful you looked. he really couldn’t get enough of you.

“morning sleepy head.” he rubbed your cheek, gently waking you up.

“hi baby.” you yawned, smiling up at him.

“how did you sleep?” he asked, brushing the hair out of your face.

“good! how was your race, i’m sorry i didn’t see all of it, i couldn’t stay awake.” you apologized, the reoccurring feeling of guilt passing by everytime you slept at his races.

“don’t worry about it, you need your sleep. it is late to be fair.” charles reassured you, pulling you into his arms. “my race was great, ended in second position, max first, george third. podium was a little awkward though.”

“oh i bet, good for them though. i’m glad you made podium, but i’m truthfully impressed with everything you do, so no pressure.” you retorted, his grip tightening around your waist.

“well you know i like to win for you chérie, so there is a bit of pressure.” he mumbled into your hair.

“good to know i make you a winner.”

@writtenbyeli 2025

written by eli <3

[wauzmons]

Quick Status Update

Sorry that I didn't post anything last week. I had lots of management work to do, but it was totally worth it! First of all, we migrated all our infrastructure away from AWS to providers in the EU, meaning we aren't reliant on Amazon anymore!

Next, I can finally confirm that Elysian Eclipse will be completely free! We will probably do the same thing as Thrive and have the game downloadable for free, while also having a paid Steam version, with the same content.

The "free demo" and "full demo" will be merged into the "unified alpha", meaning that everyone will get access to the creature editor, star system prototype etc. for free, once 0.5.1 releases, later this month. Instead of having a completely separate version, supporters on Ko-fi and Patreon will now just get earlier update releases, meaning that they will always be one version ahead, but everything will be available for free afterwards.

The main reason for these changes is that capitalism and everything that is happening in the world right now is pissing me off. Have fun with free game updates, I guess. I have enough money, so fuck it.

[2346khith]

My sick father and young siblings are trapped in a flimsy tent, enduring hunger, polluted water, and constant fear of bombings. They’re forced to eat worm-infested flour just to survive.

Every day is a fight for their lives. Please, help me rescue them from this nightmare.

Your support can save them.

For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.