#i am fascinated by rollercoasters

[catreginae]

I once tried to compare pacing and trying to find the right spot to end a chapter to a rollercoaster that uses a block system but deemed it too technical and didn't do it.

[lupinsversion]

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐞.

• summary: when one best friend helps the other get ready for a date, only to stop them to admit their long going feelings.

• a/n: i’ve been rewatching grey’s anatomy, so this is based off that one scene iykyk. get ready for this long rollercoaster of emotions

contains: james potter x fem reader, a bit if james x lily, best friends trope, angst

• word count: 3.7k

masterlist || requests || part two

James Fleamont Potter. He was the boy that she grew up with since the age of six and has been inseparable since is now finally going on a date with Lily Evans, a girl he has been fascinated with since third year. It was still a bit of a mystery to her how Lily went from calling him an arrogant toe rag and scoffing every two seconds to going and agreeing on a date. One date.

Now, she stood in her best friend’s dormitory that he shared with the other three members of the Marauders, watching him fiddle and redo so many things in front of the floor length mirror.

“Do I look okay? Like, do you actually think that I look okay?” James asked for what you swore was the twelfth time that evening as he attempted to use a brush to fix his hair.

“You look great, James.” She repeated for also the twelfth time that evening. She stood up from her spot on the edge of the bed and approached him to attempt to fix the messy trenches of gorgeously brown curls that sat on his head.

“Really?” James asked, wide-eyed and hopeful.

A grin split across his face at her words, his eyes sparkling with a lightness of joy and amusement at his own eagerness. He adored how kind she was to him, and in fact, adored many of her qualities. It wasn’t a secret that he was rather prone to falling deeply headfirst into relationships, and was never one to shy away in being bold about his affections.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Stop being so doubtful.” She murmured.

He frowned, noticing the subtle shift in her tone and expression, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by him at all. He wasn’t an idiot, and he knew her better than anybody. He knew when something was bothering her, even if she tried to he subtle about her feelings.

He dropped the brush to the ground, stepping a bit closer, his eyebrows knotted together. “I wasn’t trying to be doubting, I’m just nervous about tonight.” He admitted in a soft voice, a crease forming on his forehead.

“I know you are, but there is no reason to be. Because if Lily doesn’t fall head over heels for you, then she’s stupid.” She sighed, brushing one of his curls with her finger before continuing. “You’re great, amazing even… You’re funny. You’re kind…”

His expression softened more, the creases disappearing from his face, and he felt a familiar spark of affection ignite in his chest at the sound of her kind words. He was used to her praise, and the way she made him feel like he was on the top of the world; she had always been so supportive and complimentary of his flaws and strengths, his insecurities and dreams, and most importantly, always knew what to say to make him feel better.

“Thanks.” He said softly, his expression gentle and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. “You think I am, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.” She grumbled before playfully pushing his face away.

He staggered a bit backwards with a lighthearted chuckle, his feet shuffling on the wooden floor of the dormitory. He retaliated by playfully nudging her back, his expression lightening with laughter, the nervous tension fading away.

“You started it.” He accused softly, biting back his grin as he raised an eyebrow at her, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I was trying to help.” She spoke between her laughter, her eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He rolled his eyes, his grin widening at the sound of her laughter. He couldn’t deny the soothing effect her laughter had on him, no matter how nervous he was.

He ran a hand through his tousled hair once more, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He glanced at her through the reflection, hesitating for a moment. “Do you really think I look alright?” He asked again softly, unable to resist searching for a second opinion.

“James.” She warned in a groan.

He winced at her stern tone, raising his hands in a playful submissive manner, a sheepish chuckle escaping his lips. “Alright, alright, I get it.” He said, smiling. “I’ll stop doubting myself, I promise. And I’ll go have a great time with Lily.” He turned to face her, his expression turning serious but affectionate. “And thank you for putting up with me, always. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She gave the faintest smile, trying to suppress the smallest pain of heartbreak she felt creeping up on her. “I’ll always be here, always.”

He noticed the faint smile, sensing the strain behind it, and he felt a small twinge of uncertainty. He was aware of the complicated nature of their friendship, and how his dates with girls sometimes made her feel uncomfortable, but he was too oblivious to be aware of her feelings for him. He knew something was bothering her, but couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was.

“You’re a true friend.” He said softly, a hint of concern etching into his expression. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Friend. She didn’t want to admit how much that hurt, and uncertainty started to flood through her like a broken dam. “Yeah, I’m perfectly okay. Go have a good time.”

He hesitated for a moment, torn between staying and comforting her or leaving to go on his long awaited date with Lily. He was still concerned about her mood, and he knew she was holding something back from him, but he knew she probably wouldn’t let him in on her thoughts at the moment, so he decided to give her space. “Alright.” He said reluctantly. “I’ll be back later tonight, after this date, if you’re still up.”

“Yeah.” She nodded slowly. “I’ll clean up the mess we made while you’re gone.”

He nodded, feeling a bit guilty about leaving her behind while he went and had fun. He knew she would find some way to busy herself, just like she always did when he went on dates. He wished that she would open up to him more, but he understood everyone had their own way of dealing with things.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” He said, forcing himself to look away from her and turning towards the door, preparing to exit.

She hesitated for a moment, trying to push through her emotions and thoughts that flew through her. “James… wait.”

He stopped abruptly, turning around to face her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. The way she called his name made his heart beat a bit faster. “Yeah?” He asked, a small crease forming on his forehead.

Her brows furrowed as she avoided his gaze. She pressed her lips together in thought for a moment. “I can’t let you go…”

He frowned, stepping closer to her, his expression filled with both concern and confusion. He could sense the turmoil in her, and he wanted to understand why. “What do you mean?” He asked gently, his eyes searching hers, filled with a mixture of worry and concern. He knew there was more to it than just not wanting him to go on the date.

She took a deep breath in attempt to calm her nerves, but it didn’t help. “I just… I…”

He patiently waited. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was headed, but he also didn’t want to assume anything. He stayed silent, waiting for her to sort through her thoughts.

Her eyes trailed up to meet his gaze. “I love you.” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as her words hung heavily in the air. He felt his heart skip a beat, and he was silent, his expression mixed with both shock and a hint of realization. All he could do was stare, his eyes wide and his lips parted, as if he couldn’t quite process the magnitude of her declaration.

As the silence stretched on, he couldn’t help feel the weight of the moment. The gravity of those three little words she had unleashed were still echoing in his mind, and he felt as if his heart was caught in a tight squeeze. He swallowed past the lump that was forming in his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but his voice failed him.

“What I’m trying to say is…” She paused, running a stressed hand through her hair. “I want you to pick me. Choose me… love me.”

He swallowed hard, his heart constricting at the raw emotion in her voice. He couldn’t deny the overwhelming feeling of affection and attachment he had for her. But he was so torn, caught between his long time feelings for Lily, and the newfound discovery of hers. For a moment, he just stood there, silent as he processed her plea.

His silence only made her nerves go into hay wire. “Say something…” She pleaded. “I… I don’t care what you say, but just, please say something.”

He took a step forward, his eyes meeting hers, the familiar color filled with a turmoil of emotions. He wanted to speak, to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. The conflict he felt was overwhelming. He could see the vulnerability in her gaze, and he yearned to hold and comfort her, but he needed time to collect his thoughts.

“I…I need a moment.” He finally managed to speak, his voice wavering as he swallowed another lump in his throat.

She wanted to frown, but she also didn’t want him to feel bad for her, so all she could manage was a simple whispered, “Yeah, okay.”

He hated the way she nodded slightly, trying to hide her pain. He knew that he was hurting her, and it squeezed at his heart. He felt torn and confused, unable to fully comprehend the depths of his own emotions in that moment.

He was silent for a good moment, his eyes filled with turmoil. “I’m sorry.” He finally whispered, his voice trembling with guilt and affection.

“No, no.” She quickly said. “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who sprang this on you.”

He knew she was trying to make him feel better, but he couldn’t shake off the guilt weighing heavily on his chest. He stepped closer, his hands gently reaching out to grasp hers, as if the touch could convey the multitude of emotions he was feeling.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He admitted, his eyes locked on hers. “You just took me aback, and I didn’t expect this… from you.”

“You can deny me. Just no matter what… I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered.

His expression softened, and he felt a small ache in his chest. He was still conflicted by the overwhelming emotions she had stirred within him. He gripped her hand tighter, his thumb gently tracing circles over her skin, as if he couldn’t get himself to let go.

“I don’t want to lose you, too.” He mumbled. “But I need some time to think. Please.”

She nodded slowly. “Take all of the time you need.”

He felt a rush of relief wash over him at her understanding, but he also felt like he didn’t deserve it. Her kind words, despite her conflicted heart, made his guilt even heavier.

He sighed softly, his thumb continuing to circle on her skin, his fingers intertwined with hers. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms and give her reassurance, but he wasn’t sure of what to say or feel, and he didn’t want to lead her on when he was still so torn about his own feelings.

A few weeks had passed . James tried to make more sense of his jumbled thoughts and emotions. Yet, despite his best efforts, he was still at an impasse. It was like a never ending game to tug of war between Lily and her.

Throughout those weeks, he found himself seeking her out more often than not, drawn to her presence. Their friendship remained strong and unspoken, but he knew there was an underlying weight of unresolved feelings between them.

He would find her in the library, surrounded by books and studying, and he would silently sit beside her. He would listen to her talk and join in on her conversations, a subtle longing in his eyes that he couldn’t quite shake off. He would walk beside her to class, silently savoring her presence, as if her mere existence could provide him with clarity.

He was fully aware that he was being selfish, that he was stringing her along as he battled with his turmoil of emotions. But apart of him couldn’t let go of her, couldn’t bear to remove himself from her orbit. He cherished her laughter and her presence, his heart yearning for something he couldn’t quite name.

Sometimes, late at night, when loneliness plagued him, he would find himself lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind would spin with endless scenarios and what-ifs, and he would find himself yearning for more, as if her being beside him could soothe the storm within.

He tried not to dwell too much on it, tried to act as if everything was normal and fine between them. He kept up his facade of casual banter and lighthearted conversations, but the underlying emotions kept gnawing at him, making it harder and harder to ignore.

He had been grappling with his thoughts and conflicts for so long, but in the wee hours of the night, as he laid awake, everything became clearer. He thought he finally made a decision. He knew he didn’t want to lose her, not as a friend and not as more.

As the sun’s first rays peaked through the curtain, he got up, his mind determined and his heart full. He dressed quickly, not wanting to second guess himself. He knew he had to talk to her, to put an end to the mental turmoil and ambiguity.

He walked out of the Gryffindor common room and went straight to the library, where he knew he was bound to find her studying or with her nose in a book. He scanned the room for her, his heart thrumming in his chest.

Finally, he spotted her at a familiar table, surrounded by books and notes. She was in her own world, unaware of his presence as her eyes scanned the pages diligently.

He took a deep breath and approached her slowly, his steps filled with hopeless determination. He knew that whatever he was about to say would change everything between them, but he was no longer willing to wait and see what fate held in store.

As he finally reached her side, she felt his presence, glancing up from her book to see him standing there, his eyes filled with sincerity and an underlying emotion that she couldn’t quite place.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He noticed the way she blinked up at him, as if the sound of his voice alone had drawn you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah.” She murmured as she moved her extra books that sat on the only free chair. “Come sit.”

He nodded and settled in the offered seat, his eyes remained fixed on her, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his nerves, trying to figure out how to start this conversation.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a slightly hushed voice, her tone remaining gentle.

He sighed, trying to gather his thoughts, his anxious fingers drumming on the table. “I wanted to talk to you about… us.” He began slowly.

She nodded slowly, her own heart started to beat rapidly within her chest.

He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. His mind was going at a mile at a minute, as he tried to figure out how to express his conflicted feelings.

“I… I want to be honest with you.” He said softly. “The past few weeks have been a rollercoaster for me, and I’ve been battling with my own thoughts and feelings.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his messy, unruly locks, a small gesture that betrayed his anxiety. He had never felt so conflicted and torn in his life. “I don’t think I can pretend anymore.” He added, his voice filled with a hint of vulnerability.

Her brows furrowed together trying to decipher where this conversation was going.

He swallowed, his eyes studying her expression as he braced himself to say what he needed to say. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy and it would change everything between them, but he couldn’t stop lying to herself or to her. He took another deep breath and spoke. “Ever since you confessed, I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.” He admitted gently, his eyes filling with earnestness. “I know it’s selfish of me, and I probably should’ve figured things out sooner, but I… I don’t want to lose you. Not as a friend, not as more.”

She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table before her. “What exactly are you saying?”

He sighed heavily, his eyes boring into hers, his entire expression filled with a mix of longing, confusion, and determination. He paused for a moment, trying to find the courage to say the words that were on the tip of his tongue — the words he knew would change everything, forever.

“I love you.” He whispered earnestly, his voice laden with the raw honesty of his emotions. His eyes searched hers, waiting for her reaction with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

Her face softened but she couldn’t help the pang of guilt that she felt. “But Lily…”

Lily. Her name echoed in James’ mind as a wave of shame and guilt washed over him. He knew he had to face this, confront the truth that he had neglected for so long, and to be honest with himself and her.

“I know… I know.” He spoke softly. “I have feelings for her too. But I can’t deny the way that I feel when I’m with you, either.”

“You have to choose though.” She whispered. She wanted to scream and say that she cared more than Lily did. She saw him. She truly saw him. Whereas Lily spent most of her time ignoring him or calling him every name in the book. But she couldn’t. “If you choose Lily, I’ll still be your best friend and supportive, always.”

He felt a sharp pain in his heart at her words. He knew he had to make a choice, and he knew that it would hurt. But in this moment, as he looked at her, he couldn’t shake the thought of losing her.

Her fingers fiddled with the edge of her parchment. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for what she was about to say. “Choose Lily.”

A sharp pain of sorrow and regret resonated in his chest at her softly spoken words. Her willingness to set aside her own feelings, to sacrifice her own happiness, was a selfless act of love that he didn’t feel like he deserved, but it warmed his heart and made his internal conflict even more agonizing.

“What if I choose wrong?” He blurted out, his anxious fingers drumming rapidly on the table. He couldn’t dent that Lily was the girl he adored for as long as he could remember, but a part of him knew that her love was more deeper and profound, born from years of friendship and unparalleled understanding.

“No one can make that decision but you.”

He felt a mixture of frustration, guilt, and helplessness as she spoke those words. He knew she was right, that the choice was as solely his to make, but the thought of hurting either of them caused him immense pain.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind spiraling with thoughts that he was being selfish, that was hurting her and Lily by being indecisive. He knew he couldn’t keep both of them happy, and it felt like the weight of the entire conversation was suffocating.

“I just… I can’t wait any longer for an answer. I’ll just… step aside.” She whispered.

He swallowed hard, his eyes still shut tightly, as if he could block out the reality of the situation by keeping them closed. But he knew he needed to face the consequences of his delayed-decision making and the pain he had caused her.

He took a deep breath and finally mustered the courage to open his eyes, meeting hers once again. The pain and resignation he saw in her gaze made his heart break, but he knew he had to he honest.

She waited patiently, preparing herself mentally to walk away from what she wanted most.

He felt as if time had slowed to an agonizing crawl as he struggled with his emotions. He took a deep, shaky breath, his conflicted heart beating like a drum, but it was her resigned expression that finally pushed him to speak the truth.

“I… I don’t think I can choose.” He admitted softly, his eyes brimming with pain and guilt. It was a selfish answer, one he knew wouldn’t bring closure to anyone, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick a side, to willingly walk away from her or Lily.

“Okay.” She whispered, pushing her books and notes into a pile before picking them up before she stood.

He felt a wave of panic wash over him as she began to pack her belongings, as if she was already walking away from him. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, even if it meant facing the pain of rejecting Lily.

“I’ll still be here for you, but I’ll make this easier and make the decision for you. I’m walking away.” She whispered.

He frowned. He couldn’t let her make the decision for him, but he was paralyzed by his own uncertainty.

She sent him a small smile before making her exit from the library.

He watched in silence as she walked away, the weight of his decision weighing heavily on his shoulders. His eyes followed her retreating figure, his heart aching with guilt and a sense of impending loss.

© lupinsversion 2024

[motherhahns]

if uu write for misty quigley, i am humbly begging for headcanons on being her butch… love her so much

ohh nonnie i definitely got carried away with this lol but i hope it’s to your liking!!! i love her so much i want to take care of her forever

notes: 18+, reader is butch, a bit of unhealthy behavior since this is misty, after all. one usage of the pet name ‘pretty boy.’ fingering (with misty receiving)

—

Nobody’s ever made Misty feel seen before. Nor understood. She’s a rollercoaster of unhealthy behaviors your first few months of seeing each other. Pushing and pressing, sometimes even crossing your boundaries because she’s desperately trying to prove she’s worth sticking around for.

Yet between all of that. Misty is kind. And so, so giving. One of — if not thee smartest person you’ve ever met. She retains so much information in that fascinating head of hers, you learn something new every time you’re with her. That and she’s caring to a near smothering degree: always making sure you’ve eaten, are keeping yourself hydrated, getting sleep that actually makes you feel rested (and giving you surprisingly helpful tips on how to get yourself relaxed enough to do so), showing up at your place when you tell her you’ve had a hard day with an overnight bag and a lighthearted film with your choice of snacks.

The first time she had done so, she had tried to turn it sexual not even ten minutes into the movie you’d been watching. Her kisses quickly turned deeper, the weight of her body settled atop your lap and her hips gave the subtlest buck up, motion having brought you fully into the moment. You’d not fucked her yet, though not without her lack of trying —

for example, she had quite literally shoved her hand right down your pants on your second date while you’d gotten carried away kissing her outside of her front door. The genuine confusion and insecurity that had come over her face as she let out a quiet,”Don’t you want me?” Had filled you with nothing but concern and something … protective.

The feeling grew worse as you explained,”Not like this, sweetheart.”

Only to get met with those big, pretty, eyes blinking up at you, something wild and desperate having taken over them, startling quick. “What is it? My breath? I can brush my teeth. Or — or my glasses — I can take those off if you—“

“—Misty. It isn’t any of those things. I just want to take my time with you. Is that alright?” It was because of her reaction to that specifically, that solidified your belief that this woman was indeed worth going down the long road for, especially because nobody else had clearly ever been brave enough to bother, if the way she searched your face for deception she wouldn’t find was anything to go by.

“You … really want to see me again?”

“Definitely. So long as you don’t go doing that to me without permission again.” —

“Misty,” your hands gripped her hips, head pressed back against the cushions while you put a halt to her affections,”doll, what are you doing?”

She tilted her head at you, nose scrunched softly in her confusion, and her hands squeezed your shoulders,”What do you mean silly?” Her grin was tempting as she shook her head,”Isn’t this what you wanted?”

You shook your head and watched as her insecurity revealed itself in those eyes, touched wirh panic,”I just want your company, pretty girl. Sit down and let me enjoy what it feels like to hold you.”

Her breath gave a hitch, her features softened, a light pink kissed her cheeks as she stared at you with something close to awe,”You think I’m pretty?”

You squeezed her hips, kissed her nose, received that shy, quiet, oh-so-girly giggle in response that you adore,”I think you’re the prettiest.” She’s made progress since then.

Now she’s all soft lap rubs and warm murmurs of,”Come here, handsome,”’s. Her fingertips feeling like bliss as they stroke through your hair, as they rub at your back and shoulders every few moments. She picks out clothes for you to sleep in, helps you dress and undress, hands caressing at every bit of your skin she can touch. Respectful of not going near your chest, nor the space between your thighs. She lets you use her boobs as pillows once she’s gotten settled in for the night, always letting out this small noise of satisfaction when your body settles on top of her, never minding the times she’s the one doing the holding.

She starts cooking dinner for you during the weekdays, bringing it over for you both to enjoy in each others company. When you get scheduled to work weekends, she’ll drop by on your lunch break with homemade sweets and coffee. It had taken her seemingly no time at all to get your food + drink preferences down pat, nor for her refrigerator and pantry to begin housing the ingredients to your favorite meals.

The first time you show up at her work with a simple lunch prepared for the both of you to share outside at one of the tables beside the facility with a vanilla lavender chai to boot, you quickly get your suspicions that nobody had ever done this with her before, confirmed. She’s practically buzzing from head to toe the entire time you’re together, giddy disbelief consuming her features, especially when she realizes you’ve put arugula on her sandwich in place of lettuce and used her favorite kind of whole wheat bread. “I can’t believe you remembered my order!” She pushes her glasses up her nose,”Nobody ever seems to remember the things I like.”

You do. With ease. As much as she’s absorbed everything she’s learned and continues to learn about you, you’ve done the same. Every time Misty is presented with that, with the proof that someone actually listens to her and hears the things she says, who goes out of their way to bring even a slice of joy to her days not because of a manipulation or a guilt trip she’s puppeteered, but out of genuine want and affection — she falls apart. Crumbles into a million pieces. The first couple of times it happens, she kicks you out, or she leaves, all the while in hysterics, belittling herself as she does because of the (not so) simple act of crying.

You don’t let it slide for long. You can’t. The sounds of her sobs and the way her face crumples up as she cries haunt you each and every time, make you feel wrong walking about the world until she’s in your sights again. That and you can’t take how much she panics afterward, how she’ll blow up your phone begging for you not to hate her for being such a cry-baby, promising you it won’t ever happen again, and apologizing for you having to deal with her being such a freak. All it does is make you ache to look after her, to wrap her up and show her what it’s like to have someone be steady as she falls apart at the seams, to stitch her back together again when the tears have stopped.

“Why’re you still here?” She asks, her eyes red rimmed and puffy, her cheeks wet and streaked from tears. All you’d done is bring her a bouquet of her favorite flowers; asters. She’s in your arms, head tilted back to look at you, the look in her eyes something heart breaking to behold, as she shakes her head at you,”Why aren’t you …”

Your index finger loosely wraps around one of her curls before you set it free once more, your palm finding her face as you cup her cheek, thumb growing damp from what wetness is left there,”Because I care about you, Misty. The thought of you going through something alone, its unacceptable to me.” You press a kiss between her brows, bringing your other hand up in order to hold her face in your hands, fingertips thrumming at the feel of her hair,”I’m here for you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not.”

Sometimes she’ll wake up with flailing limbs and desperate, panicked gasps for air. Her fingertips always finding her throat as though she expects something to be there, her entire body shaking where she sits beside you in the bed. It is during these times that you give her breathing room in order to run her a bath. You fill the tub with hot water and soothing oils, light up the candles on the counter in order to keep the atmosphere calm, and make your way back to her once the water is ready. She’ll trail after you quietly, sniffling as she does, back of your tee-shirt pinched between her fingertips due to her lack of glasses. She has learned not to expect you removing her from her pajamas to turn into sex, nor to try and start anything while in emotional distress, and that simple bit of realization alone is enough to make you think … soon. You help her get settled into the tub, not minding the way the tile floor is cold against your bare legs as you kneel beside it. You stroke your fingers through her unruly curls, gently working out knots and tangles, not relenting on your petting even as she relaxes fully into the water.

When you help her take care of Caligula’s cage, the bird always greets you with,”Hi handsome,” something that never fails to make Misty’s face burn bright red, because he’s mimicking the way she nearly always greets you.

Misty’s a pretty little thing. Her grandma-lite style something you cannot get enough of. Especially this one baby pink cat sweater that she’s got. The one she’s wearing when you decide that you can’t make it another moment without getting your hands on her. Five and a half months of relying on your hand and your imagination evidently all you’re able to take.

She’s such an eager, sloppy, hungry, kisser. Has no trouble moving her tongue along yours something obscene. Has no trouble sucking on your bottom lip, or sinking her teeth into the thick of it with enough force to blur the line of pain and pleasure. Letting out soft moans in response to your low, husky, ones. Ever vocal. Ever aiming to drive you completely mad.

There’s nothing more delicious than her blinking up at you, chest rising and falling rapidly, face flushed, lips kiss swollen, her irises not quite completely swallowed by pupil. Her fingertips flex and unflex around the material of your flannel, thighs spread on either side of your own, the cats on her sweater staring up at you.

“Sit up,” you tell her as you maneuver yourself to your knees, your fingertips tugging at her sweater. “I want this off.”

She’s all pale skin with random beauty marks decorating the flesh, her tits filling up your palms as you hold them in your hands, her rosy pink nipples occupying the space between your parted fingers. It is easy to shift your grip in order to swipe your thumbs over them, the corner of your mouth twitching at the way Misty whimpers, her eyelids fluttering shut. She’s so easy to wind up. Soft kisses to her throat, a teasing nip just below her earlobe, a particularly rough tug at her nipples here and there, the sounds that are escaping her throat so adorably pathetic, as is the way she’s rutting up against your abdomen.

“God, look at you, girl. You want something?” Misty’s eyes open up, just barely, lips parted though no words come out as she merely gives you a nod. “And what would that be?”

That earns you a whine, her grip on your shirt tightening as she lifts her chin up enough to catch you in a kiss. It’s slow and wanting, Misty panting out a,”Please,” kissing at your chin,”get inside me.” You give her a peck before moving down her body, your hand palming her pussy through her jeans as your mouth wraps around one of her nipples, able to feel the dampness that lies beneath thin denim. She must be fucking ruined.

She is. When you get her jeans off and tossed to the floor, her panties are so wet you can see how they’re clinging to her pussy, the sight having you let out a,”Fuck,” below your breath as you rub your palms up her knees. Misty hears it, fucking fondles her tits immediately after it leaves your lips, moaning as she does, her thighs spreading just that little bit wider.

When you get your fingers crooked beneath her panties and tug, you watch in fascination how stubbornly they cling to her cunt, a quiet groan escaping you at the sight of her in full view. All neatly groomed pubic hair and pink, glistening slick, pretty little hole clenching around nothing, releasing another bout of slick that drips down the seam of her ass as you get her panties all the way off. “God, baby,” you caress at her ankles, tongue licking at your bottom lip as you watch her give her own tits another squeeze,”You always get this wet?”

“Mm,” she confirms, as she swipes the sides of her thumbs against her nipples,”Like it, pretty boy?”

“That’s one word for it,” you mutter as you steady yourself over top of her once more, letting your breath ghost across her lips before capturing her mouth with your own. Your dominant hand traces along every bit of her body you can reach, purposely avoiding where she wants you most so you can feel her shake and tremble, sigh and whine, against you. Into you.

The sound her pussy makes as you slip your middle finger inside of it for the first time is fucking obscene, her walls clenching down hard for a moment at the sensation, a tremble running through Misty’s thighs. “Oh,” she moans out, her hands finding the sheets,”more,“ she breathes out as her body relaxes. More she gets. You meet absolutely no resistance as you thrust back into her with your ring finger now in the mix, unable to help kissing along the line of her jaw, nipping here and there as you start a steady pace.

From then on it’s all wet sounds and not so gentle teeth from both parties, Misty’s nails scratching down your back as you finally add your thumb into the mix, so wet that it slips right off her clit. “Fuck,” she preens as you suck a mark into her throat, your thumb finding actual claim on her clit, matching the pace of your fingers with ease, her walls tightening and fluttering around them, slick dripping down your palm,”fuck, please, please, baby, I’m gonna—“ You smother the rest of her sentence with a kiss full to the brim with tongue and desire, only parting from her once she’s reached her peak, her back arched off the bed as she gushes against your hand with one of the most pathetic, loveliest sounding moans you’ve ever heard.

Afterward, once she’s settled enough for you to part from her, you shed yourself of your outer layer of clothes and fall back onto the bed with ease. Misty’s curled into your side immediately, arm flinging over your waist as she settles her head above your heart, pressing a kiss there through your shirt. She falls asleep within moments and you?

You think you might be in love.

[loupy-mongoose]

~It's time to try the

Alolan roller

coaster

ride~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START

(Once again, the missing wedding ring is on purpose. It's left at home to keep it safe.)

I got the in-game Randy one year ago today. He's the last of the main three I received in-game, but was the first one to have a solid character concept. It's fascinating to look back at that time and see how much less there was to him and his family at the time...

One day at work, the song "Hawaiian Rollercoaster Ride" came on, and it led to me imagining Randy surfing. Which led down a rabbit hole of realizations, and lo-and-behold, Randy's a surfer now! :3

I almost didn't go through with it, as I myself am--or was--incredibly uneducated in all things surfing, and feared that I would get surfing related questions. But I brought it to Discord, and as tends to happen, the idea was encouraged.

I still consider myself to be pretty low in surfing knowledge, so don't expect deep answers, if any, should I be asked. But it just makes so much sense to me that Randy would be a surfer, and I've learned quite a bit in pursuing this idea. ^w^

I also came to learn something about Randy through this surfing thing as well.

You'd think Momo takes way more after her mom than her dad, but I realized Momo and Randy do have something in common; They're both thrill-seekers. Now, since becoming a Mew, Randy has buried his thrill-seekerness under his anxiety. But it's there, and when he lets go of his fear, he really lets go.

I've mentioned in the past that Momo is sensory-seeking. Randy isn't necessarily sensory-seeking, but he has a high pain tolerance that Momo may have inherited.

And of course while studying surfing images, I had to do a rendition of The Shot.

~Flyin' by on the Alolan rollercoaster ride~

Happy birthday, Randy! <3

[drchucktingle]

Camp Damascus was amazing! I love it as a horror novel, as a queer experience and just as a thing I put in my brain this year. It was one of the best.

It was also a huge watershed moment for me in my neuroatypical existence, as I kept going "But this is just normal, right" to the autistic signs of the main character. Like. I've known I was in the spectrum for a long time, but this experience really put it into perspective.

Also gave it to a friend who's been so happy and felt so seen by the autistic behaviour of the main character. They texted me about it every time it sparked joy, and it's been beautiful to experience.

So, thank you so much! Thank you so, so much, for both our thrills and joys of this horror rollercoaster!

thank you buckaroo this is a very kind gift to receive i am so thankful and honored that you and your bud have seen yourself in this story. i am honored to create an autistic hero who is not beholden to her neurodivergent way in some tragic fashion. it is just a part of her trot like it is just a part of OUR trot.

i think my horror stories connect with specific buckaroo groups because they are honoring these experiences in a way that is more than just surface level. it is fascinating to see the way CAMP DAMASCUS resonates with autistic vs neurotypical buckaroos differently (not bad or good, just different). same can be said for the way STRAIGHT resonates with queer buckaroos vs straight cis buckaroos differently. i think BURY YOUR GAYS will resonate with buckaroos involved in fandom as well as ace buckaroos in a different way than those who do not have this trot (and honestly just queer buckaroos in general are going to like bury your gays it is pretty universal to this experience)

but that is just art i guess, it is a wonderful little mirror that reflects us all in different ways, and it can be so POWERFUL to finally see yourself in that reflection

i am so honored to be a part of this experience for you, thank you bud you have proven love to me today

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok crock pot anon here one more time (I definitely sent you a third one last night and completely forgot to say it was me, I was so damn excited, apologies). Now that I can rewatch on Hulu today, I can…. watch this scene 8x in a row! Lol. So- perfect barbacoa in 8 hours, eh? 8 hours = 8 seasons? Except Buck is saying heyyyy no, it can be done a little early! "Recipes are just a guideline" and "to Helena Diaz, they're gospel" I am side-eyeing you SO HARD. "First family dinner in the new house. It better be fork tender." "Slow cooker is never wrong!" I am lOsInG mY aCtUaL mInD. And, AND. Helena doesn't even eat any, which, first of all, why, it's probably amazing, but second, she grabs quick, easy takeout, the easy way out!!! The relationship metaphors!!!! Doing things the quick easy way versus slow cooking a relationship (romantic or parent-child), dkjfksdja;s

Hey crock pot anon

I always love seeing you've popped back into my inbox - I assumed the flailing kermit was you - which is why I added the same gif to my last reply keep being excited - I'm loving it and I am also very excited about it 😎

rewatching to pick up all the goodies we missed is always so much fun isn't it - I've been at the Cricket all day - rewatching on my laptop as the game was going on - thats how I ended up down a chess spiral, but anyway yes yes yes to the 8 hours = 8 seasons - and I just answered another ask about the 11 minutes to go of the 8 hours - so 11 minutes before the end of season 8. I've also got another couple of asks that have come into my inbox as I was writing this reply talking about fractions and how that therefore means episode 14 or 15 depending on which way you round the numbers, so perhaps we'll be lucky and that will be the moment of Buddie canon!

The Helena v Buck of recipes is endlessly fascinating to me - Helena stuck in heteronormativity while Buck has started experimenting with recipes and making them his own - his 3 tries to get the lasagne right and his baking experiments - in the same way he is now exploring his sexuality. Hell, if you think about it he tried twice/ three times with tommy - depending on what one counts as a 'try' and if it was the third time that it was right or if it took 3 attempts and the fourth one was the right one - either way on both fronts - it implies that the next time he's going to get it right - as in with Eddie!

the first family dinner in the new house it better be fork tender really is making me feel a bit feral - the potential foreshadowing of a first family dinner in a new Buckley- Diaz family home and it being a dinner full of tenderness 🥹🫠🥰 I will be a puddle!

the 'Slow cooker is never wrong' line literally made me gasp and cackle - slow burns are never wrong - they are always the best love stories - this slow burn rollercoaster we've been on for the last 84 years is not wrong - we buddies are not wrong - just like that slow cooker! I love it here 🥰🤡🌈

Helena only eating the take out - not even trying what Eddie had lovingly made - and the face she pulled when she lifted the lid on the slow cooker - she did not like it and wasn't impressed - its making me think we might be getting a homophobic Helena to some degree in our future - you know just to add to her other really great qualities!!!

and yes yes yes to your last line 'Doing things the quick easy way versus slow cooking a relationship (romantic or parent-child)' - that is the crux of it isnt it - slow burns take time but they are infinitely better (nutritionally and taste wise) than a takeout meal alternative - slow burns are made with love and will leave you feeling content and satisfied, while the easy take out option contains little to no love and will leave you feeling either over full and uncomfortable or disappointed and hungry 5 minutes later!

all roads (crock pots, colour theory, chess, ballroom dancing, couches etc) lead to Buddie canon and I feel insane about it! feel free to spiral in my inbox about crockpots (or anything else) whenever you like 💜💜💜

[flightyalrighty]

Do you like any other series besides sonic?For example,I like Pac-Man!

Yep! I like:

Kingdom Hearts, Sly Cooper, Gargoyles (the tv show), Spider-Man (but not these days so much), Left 4 Dead, Heroes of Might & Magic, I used to be into Assassin's Creed but haven't touched anything past Black Flag, Resident Evil, a few specific games from Silent Hill, Dark Souls, Undertale + Deltarune, Ace Attorney, Junji Ito's various works, Fallout but just the originals and new vegas, I used to be into Avatar, Bone, Hellboy, I can't think of any others at this time but I know they exist.

And a lot of individual interests I really liked that exist outside of a series or stand up on their own while I ignore other entries;

City of Heroes, Toontown, Darkest Dungeon, The Sims, Rollercoaster Tycoon, Zoo Tycoon, Chivalry: Medieval Warfare, Dead By Daylight was this for me at one point, theme park history + animatronics like in general esp re: the Disney parks, Beauty and The Beast (the animated Disney move specifically), and I am deeply fascinated with the art of Hal Foster.

Also, not a series, but my favorite animals are gorillas. I think they're neat.

[ghost-bison]

i am nearing the end of jodie/13's era and here are my takes on it:

-jodie 🥵🥵🥵

-thirteen my little baby angel who can do no wrong *cuteness aggression*

-i feel like people who shit on her era have only seen series 11

-cause yeah her first series was pretty bad

-(and then orphan 55 was indeed so boring)

-but series 12 was overall pretty good

-and though confusing i think the flux was really compelling and clever

-it took me a whole series to warm up to ryan cause by god was he annoying and mean in series 11

-but then he became kinda fun in series 12

-(even though imo his weird "conflict" with graham and his dyspraxia could have been utilised better since they were there)

-i loved graham cause there was a bit of a wilfred side to him yk, he warmed my cold little heart

-as for yaz she was so awkward and I loved that weird little sibling dynamic she and ryan had going on (though i could totally see that the writers had something romantic planned for them at first lmao)

-but also 3 series in i can't really tell you what she's doing here, which sucks cause mandip is good and the character had potential (pls dont be mad at me i like her i just think there's a whole lot of wasted potential)

-also she apparently had something romantic with the doctor and i honestly couldn't tell until the four last episodes (because it was literally addressed) even though i knew from spoilers that they were supposed to be a thing so i'm a bit disappointed

-what a shame we had so little of dan he was hilarious (to me he's kinda what the writers failed to do with ryan)

-swarm and azure were SO ANNOYING OMGGGGGGGGGGGG

-also tecteun i hate you so much

-kind of the part I didn't like about flux was the giving time a physical manifestation, wtf was that about

-jack's talk with yaz made me cry ugly tears

-the timeless child plot wasn't bad overall it just shouldn't have revolved around the doctor, but also it has potential? like i'm actually torn about it, cause it could be a chance to give the show a fresh new layer, but also i like the simplicity of just "the doctor is the autism specimen of the time lords and they're kind of embarrassed by them"

-the lupari plot was so silly and so doctor who. what wasn't so good though, is how karvanista's trauma of literally losing his entire species brutally to genocide is sweeped under the rug and the lack of impact over the doctor who was like "i'm so sorry karvanista" and poof 5 seconds later it's like she doesn't gaf

-dhawan!master is reaaaalllly annoying, i don't like him, and sacha dhawan is an incredible actor with some BONKER skills who literally blew my mind. to me he mastered (pun intended) simm!master's kind of crazy but with his own personal touch and trauma and experience to it that made him all the more fascinating. still don't like him but that's part of why he's so great

-finally: jodie whittaker did an amazing job, nailed the doctor's emotional rollercoaster, and honestly if you have a problem with her personally and blame her era's lows on her i suggest you ask yourself if you're not just a little bit uncomfortable with the doctor being a woman (and what it says about you lol cause I'm sorry but no, you can't compare a genderfluid face-changing billion y/o alien to james bond being played by a woman or the queen of england by a man) (like, moffat already tried that and we all laughed)

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest 2024

day 28: a fic over 100k

I’ve had a rec for Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k) sitting in my drafts for so many months now (probably over a year? le gasp!) so when I saw this prompt I did not think twice. I rarely read anything over 50k these days, but I was (still am) so thirsty for some good Draco/Blaise food that I jumped right into a 200k rollercoaster, and what a ride it was! this will be a bit longer than my other posts since I’m using bits of my long-ass drafted rec, so please bear with me:

I’ll preface this by saying “this might not be the right fic for you - and that’s okay!”. yes, the story starts with Draco falling for his straight best friend and getting into an ill-advised but 100% Slytherin “friends with benefits” sort of arrangement with Blaise, who then marries someone else. oh, the devastation 🥲 this is not a sad fic per se, but Draco’s journey is bittersweet all the same. one thing I can promise though, this is most definitely a Drarry romance. there’s this… subtle sweetness and generosity in their dynamics, even before they start fucking, that made my heart skip a beat and go “yes yes yes, this is what I want for them!!!!”

flatmates, powerful Harry, pining galore, found family, hot & intimate smut, a story after my own heart! and once you jump in, it’s impossible to resist the pull of these witty, vibrant and complex characters. as a Blaise slut I was immediately seduced by this peculiar mix of arrogant, tender and nonchalant. it’s so toxic and complicated, I love it. as for post-war Draco, he’s a fascinating figure: snarky and melodramatic but openly soft and vulnerable in a way that caught me off guard, gosh I’m so tender for him. he’s quite similar to Harry in his yearning for physical and emotional connection, and I love how this fic explores the complicated entanglements between loneliness, attraction and dependency. I’m also so weak for a pining! Harry and here he’s dialed to 11: hungry, possessive, touch-starved, soft and infatuated all at once. the slow burn is superb with cinematic sexual tension and emotional catharsis. and don’t get me started on the smut! I could wax poetry about the morning after scene intense, hazy and self-indulgent sex with a starving Harry and a pliant Draco. absolutely breathtaking!

surprisingly, this is also a fun read! the humour is smart, subtle and permeates the dialogue in ways that made me giggle every now and then. this fic also benefits from multiple POVs and a fantastic supporting cast, including Aurors Ron & Pansy and Draco’s hilarious house elves who steal the scene every time they show up. everything comes together in a charming and immersive love story that will tug at your heart strings and make you cheer for Drarry, for Draco, like you’ve never done before. a love letter to all of us who have fallen in love with someone who couldn’t make us happy and had to embrace the grief of letting go, learn how to remake ourselves, and take a leap of faith to let someone new in. give this story a chance and find yourself falling in love with your OTP all over again 💜

for @hprecfest

[dragon-kazansky]

Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Slight angst. Probably more swearing, this is Izzy here. Longer chapter than the last.

Chapter Three - Can you see me now?

♡♡♡

Izzy had entered his captain's quarters in a slight daze. He was focused on his mission, sure, but the sound of your voice was taking over his mind. It almost felt real.

The way you said his name made his heart skip. Not that he would ever say that out loud. God forbid anyone thought Izzy Hands had gone soft.

He almost believed you had been on that bar.

"Izzy?"

He snaps out of his thoughts at the sound of Blackbeard's voice.

"He's not interested in meeting. I explicitly told him... Blackbeard desired his company."

"But does he know who I am?"

"Seemed to, yeah."

"And still he said no?"

"You can "go suck eggs in hell" was his response, I believe."

"Fascinating."

Once Izzy was dismissed, he walked up onto the deck and looked out to sea. Back on open water where he liked to be. He finds himself pressing his palm against his chest, where the ring sits under his clothes. It feels heavier than normal for some reason.

♡♡♡

Turns out it was the Spanish waiting. Not a private vessel like Stede had thought. You had cursed under your breath as the dingy approached the ship.

It was a set up.

Along with the crew and the Englishman, you were pulled into a line where Stede could see you all being held at sword point.

This was becoming the last straw for you.

"I think there's been a mistake," Stede mutters. He is then promptly stabbed as his crew gasp in shock. Blood soaks his clothes as the sword is pulled out of him. "Did you mean to do that?"

You stand by quietly and watch as Jim is revealed to be a woman in disguise. Apparently Spanish Jackie knew them and wanted their head... or at least nose.

As night draws in the Spanish prepare to hang Stede Bonnet. You look up at him as he stands on the barrel, noose around his neck. You stand there with the notion that you'll never see Blackbeard and Izzy again. This time you'll really be a ghost story to them.

A pain settles in your chest at the thought.

"I'm sorry, guys." Stede says to his crew. "Any last words?"

"Yeah," Jim speaks up. "You are the worst fucking pirate captain in history."

"I deserve that."

The Spanish captain mocks Stede for his last words. As he begins to laugh, he is swiftly swiped off the ship. All hell breaks loose.

Cannon fire. Smoke. Pirates boarding the ship. Yelling. Swords clashing. Several things happen all at once.

In Stede's panic, he knocks the barrel over, hanging from the rope around his neck.

You begin to laugh, tears welling up in your eyes. You know these guys! This crew!

You're cut free from the rope binding your hands and you watch the Spanish die one by one on front of you.

Whether it was fate or luck, you thank your lucky stars. 6 years away from the ship you called home, only to reunite with them on this very night. Your eyes dart from one person to another, looking for the man you missed the most.

As the fog rolls in thicker, Stede is cut down from his hanging, falling limp on the ground. He's looking worse for wear.

You turn at the sound of heavy footsteps. You smile at the sight of your captain.

Blackbeard stands over Stede.

"The Gentlemen Pirate, I presume."

"You've heard of me?"

"Oh yeah, I've heard of you. I've heard all about you."

♡♡♡

"Blackbeard."

He looks up from Stede and sees you standing there in front of his eyes. "No way," he mutters under his breath.

"It's me."

He looks you up and down, taking you in. He has thought Izzy had been a little odd these past few weeks. Now he was connecting the dots.

"No fucking way!"

You smile at him. Blackbeard orders his men to carry Bonnet back onto his ship as he walks toward you and pulls you in close. You finds yourself a little taken off guard, not knowing Blackbeard to be particularly a hugger.

"This is fucking unreal. You're alive?"

"Yeah. Have been all this fucking time!"

He sounds super excited as he holds your by the shoulders and looks you over again.

"Izzy is never going to fucking believe this."

You fall quiet as you look up at your captain.

"How is he?"

"He's, well, ya know, Izzy."

"Captain..."

"I'm sure he will be happy to see you again. We thought you were dead..."

"Almost was," you whisper.

♡♡♡

You climb aboard the Revenge. You had hoped to never set foot on this ship again, hoping you could simply go back to the one you used to call home, but it turns out Blackbeard has a genuine interest in this Gentlemen Pirate.

You go along with him for the sake of returning to your old crew.

"So, I'm allowed back, just like that?"

"You always had a place on my crew. "Dying" isn't going to change that. Just, I need ya to talk to Izzy first. I think that's important. I'm gonna go check in with the Bonnet guy."

"Right..."

Blackbeard leaves your side to go below deck. As you turn around, you see him. Izzy Hands. Just as you remember, though perhaps a few more grey hairs on his head.

He is frozen in place. Eyes set on you, the corner of his lips pulled down, his brows are knitted together. One of his hands rests on his sword at his hip, the other is balled up into a tight fist beside him.

"Izzy," you say his name softly.

You can see his jaw clench, perhaps even his eyes watering. You realise in that moment he doesn't believe what he's seeing. You take a step forward and he takes a step back.

"Izzy..."

"You're not real," he says plainly, trying so hard.

"I am real, Izzy. It's me."

"No. It can't... it can't be you," he nearly loses his composure. "You died. That ship burnt down to nothing and you died."

You take another step closer.

"I jumped off the ship, but got swept up in the ocean. The weather turned bad, do you remember?" He doesn't respond. "I couldn't get back to the ship, and before I knew it you were all gone. You have every right to believe I was dead and that I'm just a figment of your imagination, but I'm here..."

Izzy stares at you for a few moments longer because inhaling sharply and walking off.

You stand there and feel all the shuddering breath escape you. Yeah, he had every right to walk away.

♡♡♡

After sitting with Stede for a while as he recovers, Blackbeard stands up on deck looking out at the horizon. Izzy joins him, his mind busy with thoughts. He has to be going crazy.

"Been lookin' for you everywhere. We need to move quickly before the Spanish realise we massacred all their men."

"Oh, the Spanish. They die quite dramatically, don't they, the Spaniards? Lots of blubbering for their God."

"Yeah, agreed. Now, we really should discuss..."

"Izzy, Izzy, Izzy, Izzy! Did you see them yet?" Blackbeard looks over his shoulder at his first mate. "Our spirit isn't a ghost after all!"

"So I wasn't going mad?" Izzy whispers to himself.

"What's that?"

"Nothin'." Izzy looks out across the sea. His chest feels heavy. So you are real. You really were back from the dead. Where the fuck had you been all this time? Why hadn't you reached out in some way?

"Aren't you glad?" Blackbeard asked.

"Fucking ecstatic."

"Cheer up, Izzy. We're a team again!"

Izzy says nothing as he stares out at the sea. He doesn't know what to feel right now. For the last 6 years he believed you to be dead. You haunted his dreams, his thoughts during the day. He saw you in places he shouldn't. Izzy genuinely thought he was losing his mind at this point.

"Look out there. Those clouds." Blackbeard points out at the sky, trying to change the subject. He could tell the conversation was starting to bother his first mate. "Do they look like frankfurters to you?"

"They look like clouds," Izzy sighs.

"Yes, yes, they look like clouds because they are indeed clouds, but if you just put some fucking imagination into it, man!"

Izzy looks back out at the clouds, completely done with this moment, but humouring his boss nonetheless. "I suppose they do look like sausages."

"Frankfurters, yes! Exactly. It's like pulling teeth with you sometimes, man."

The two of them turn to face the crew of the ship. Most of the crew are milling about, but you're standing against the railing with your arms crossed and bead bowed down. Izzy's gaze is on you for a moment before glancing at the crew.

"What've we got?" Blackbeard asks.

"Well, the ship sustained some damage in the crossfire, and the crew's completely useless, bottom of the barrel."

"Mm, and what about them?" Blackbeard nods over to where you stand.

Izzy bites the inside of his cheek. "Prisoner of Bonnet or something... has been trapped on his ship for weeks according to the others."

"What's the plan?"

"The uszh - make 'em repair the ship, execute 'em." Izzy says this as he avoids looking at you. He is still trying grasp onto the fact you're not dead.

"Right, the uszh."

♡♡♡

Pete looks up from what he is doing to see Blackbeard and Izzy talking quietly to one another. "I bet he's saying something genius. He's history's most brilliant tactician. I wonder if he'll recognise me."

You look up at him. "Recognise you?"

"Yeah. I was on his crew once."

You narrow your eyes at him. "I don't remember you."

"Why would you remember me? Unless you were someone we crossed, but we very rarely left anyone alive."

You push yourself away from the railing and stand in front of him. "You weren't on his crew."

"Oh yeah? How would you know?" He stands up to you.

"Because I was on his crew. Until about 6 years ago I sailed under Blackbeard. I don't ever remember you."

Pete backs down. "You sailed with... him?"

"Yeah. You see those two over there?" You nod toward Blackbeard and Izzy. Pete nods. "They were my friends. My colleagues. My family, if you like. I killed for Blackbeard. Stole for him. Tortured for him."

Pete swallows nervously. Lucius steps between you both. "I thought he would be taller."

You sigh and step back.

Fang and Ivan come over and slap Pete across the head. "Back to work!"

Blackbeard turns back around to see what was happening. "Boys, boys, boys, hey. Let's not brutalise our guests like that."

Blackbeard swings down the steps, even though it was only 4 steps to walk down. The crew applaud him for that anyway.

"Hello everyone. I'm Blackbeard." He greets them.

Izzy comes down the steps you notice him avoiding your gaze. You know you've hurt him by suddenly reappearing in his life.

Blackbeard makes the rounds of the crew. They're fans of him. He seems pretty stoked by the reactions he's getting from them. He turns to find Buttons standing beside you with a seagull on his head.

It dawns on you how little you knew of this crew due to being locked in the brig for weeks. You realise how weird this all is.

"Sorry, sir, Blackbeard, sir, I was just wonderin' if we're going to be able to live or die..." Franchie says.

"Right, come on!" Izzy cuts him off. "Blackbeard has business to attend to! Fang!"

Fang hisses and orders them all to go back to work. You remain standing as Blackbeard and Izzy pass by you. Blackbeard smiled at you, but Izzy pretends not to see you as he steps last you.

You sigh and walk in the other direction.

♡♡♡

"This place is amazing. Izzy, look, look at this shit." Blackbeard gets all excited as he opens a cabinet to find a model of the ship they're on. He's never seen anything like this before.

Izzy sighs as he watches his boss. He was annoyed by the fact that Blackbeard wasn't taking things seriously right now, and it didn't help to know you were basically haunting him even though you were no longer a ghost. He supposed in a sense you still were, to him anyway, a ghost.

Blackbeard holds up the model of the ship. "It's a teeny-tiny version of this ship."

"It appears so, yeah." Izzy takes it from Blackbeard when he hands it over. "So, Edward..."

"He's got all sorts of knick knacks and trinkets."

"Edward?"

"This guy's fucking fascinating!"

"Edward, focus. We need a plan."

"I AM focusing. I'm focusing on all of this brilliant stuff."

"Edward, we really need a plan." Izzy insists.

"Crazy little trinkets."

"Come on, a plan."

"Yes! We always need a fuckin' plan, all right?! And then what? Then we fuckin' execute the plan, then we get another plan, then what do we do? We execute that, and so on and so on, and again, and again, and again, and again! It's all so fucking boring!" Edward shouts.

"Why aren't you focusing on them? Huh? Our friend who came back from the dead and crossed our paths again! Who we thought was dead, but really they were out there all this time probably doing some way more fucking interesting than the same thing over and over again!"

Izzy bites his tongue at that.

"I'm bored outta my skull man. Is this all there is?" Ed asks Izzy, turning to face him. "I shouldn't be bored. I'm fucking Blackbeard."

Izzy stares at his captain.

"Well, as board as you might be, if you don't make a decision soon, we're going to fuckin' die."

Blackbeard looks at his first mate.

"You're doing it again."

"Doin' what?"

"Avoiding talking about them. All you wanna do is talk about what I plan to do. You won't even say their name."

"Edward-"

"Do you hate them, Izzy?"

"Ed-"

"No, Izzy. Do you hate them? Do you despise them for dying?"

"They're not dead though, are they? Never were. They just made us believe they were."

Edward stares at Izzy.

"Huh..."

"What?"

"Now, there's an idea. I haven't done that yet." Edward says curiously. "I haven't died yet, have I? Maybe we should try that." He says, standing right in front of Izzy with a look of excitement in his eyes. He then walks past his first mate to go back outside.

Izzy stands there with the ship model in his hands. "Yeah, cos that make sense."

He puts the model back in the cabinet.

♡♡♡

You sit on the deck with your head leaning back against the railing. The crew are still fixing the ship, but you're lost in your thoughts about Izzy.

Israel Hands was always a hard man. From the moment you net him, he was tough, direct, took shit from no one. He took pride in being Blackbeard's first mate. Being first mate was no joke, it was a huge responsibility to the ship and to the captain. Izzy Hands was perfect for Edward's right hand man.

He was always the same, but it took months of sticking to his side to make him soften up, if only a little bit. Izzy would find himself drawing closer to you. He would always come to stand beside you. Always found himself sharing thoughts and ideas with you. Sometimes he just liked to sit in silence with you.

You became a safe space for him.

Izzy Hands is human, despite what some might think of him. You know deep down he has thoughts and feelings too, he just does a good job of keeping them hidden. You've seen the way he looks at Blackbeard, like he's the most important man in the world. Izzy would do anything Blackbeard asked him. Even bend the fucking knee if he had to.

You liked Izzy. As much of a bastard as he was. There was a connection there, it might be hard to see, but you knew it was there. It was the things Izzy did that proved it's existence.

Now he hated you.

You should have made more of an effort to contact hi somehow, but even then you don't know how you would have managed that.

"Shit..." You sigh.

In the corner of your eye you see Izzy comes outside. You keeps your eyes away from him. If he was going to ignore you, you would ignore him too.

Izzy joins Buttons where they see ships approaching on the Horizon.

"These wee black dots look a bit Spanish to me. What do you think?" Buttons says.

Izzy looks through his telescope. "Fuck!" He hurries down the steps muttering to himself as he goes to find Edward.

You watch him go, immediately breaking your ignoring him attempt.

♡♡♡

Izzy can't find Ed. He's not on deck by looks of it, and he wasn't in the captain's quarters when he went in to check. Izzy is losing his patience right now. He sighs and heads back outside to make sure the crew are still working, and to see if Edward has appeared in the time he was gone.

Instead Izzy just finds himself staring at you. You've been sitting in the same position for the last hour. He would yell at you for being lazy, but that would mean talking to you, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

However, as your eyes rise from the wooden deck to meet his, Izzy finds himself frozen once again. Those are the same eyes he used to look into back then. You're right there in front of him.

In his state of being thrown back to the past, he had failed to notice the crew of this lousy ship had gone from deck. He blinks and realises how quiet it is. He takes note of you looking at him. You open your mouth to say something, but he walks away immediately.

He won't talk to you.

♡♡♡

The crew are below deck eating and arguing over Jim. They seem to believe Jim is a mermaid, but they stands up and yell at the crew, stating they are not, in fact, a mermaid. Neither are they bad luck.

Izzy is not impressed.

"You don't get food when you're being invaded." He states to them, unhappy with how things are going. "You live at my pleasure! Back to work! Useless fuckin' fuckers!"

He storms off again.

When he returns to deck be finds you fixing the ship. You've picked up where they have left off. You haven't noticed him standing there silently watching you as you work away.

Izzy hates the way he feels right now, seeing you there in front of him. You're behaving like you haven't been gone for 6 fucking years of his life.

"You don't have to do that," he says, trying to remain neutral.

You don't look up from what you're doing, continuing to hammer the nail.

"As I gather, you were their prisoner. They ain't your crew."

You shrug. "Ed said I always had a place on his crew, but right now I don't feel like I belong on either. This weirdos, well, I don't know much about them. I know they're not very good pirates, that's for sure. As far Blackbeard... it's been 6 years. A lot has changed. I've probably changed."

Izzy watches you. You refuse to look at him.

"You haven't changed... much."

You stop hammering the nail, but you keep your eyes focused on the deck as you tilt your head in his direction slightly.

"Thought you were dead."

"Yeah..." You say softly. "Figured as much. Heard the stories. Ya know, pirates believe I'm some ghost who died on that ship that day, seeking revenge on anyone who gets close to the wreck. I apparently haunt the water waiting for the day Blackbeard returns so I can rest in peace. I mean, who the fuck made that story up?"

Izzy doesn't laugh, but he is mildly amused by the tale. "Some arsehole, probably."

You chuckle. "Probably."

At last you bring your eyes to meet his as you stand. You look at him with a sigh. "I'm sorry you thought I was dead. But I had no way to contact you or let you know I got off that ship that day."

Izzy says nothing.

"I thought about you every day," you confess. "You and the guys. I wondered if you ever looked for me."

"Uh..." Izzy drops his gaze.

"I get it... you thought I was dead. No point in looking for a dead person at sea."

Izzy looks back up at you. "Did you ever once look for us?" He asks.

"Every fucking day. For the record, Blackbeard isn't easy to find."

Izzy almost smiles, but the sound of the door opening behind him has him frowning again and turning around. The crew of the Revenge are coming back to finish their work.

Izzy doesn't look at you again as he watches them, making sure they don't slack off again. You decide to finish the job you started.

Izzy only glances your way when he knows you've stopped looking.

♡♡♡

You knew what you were seeing, but you weren't sure what to make of it. Right in front of everyone was Blackbeard in a white frilly shirt, sleeves covering his hands. He was waving his arms about in some strange dancing motion. His expression was very serious though.

You thought perhaps you had hit your head and were imagining things, but when Stede Bonnet comes out wearing Blackbeard's iconic leather outfit, you decided you must have been drugged instead.

Izzy has to walk off and you don't blame him. The man has put up with a lot from Blackbeard over the years, and this had to be taking the cake.

While the crew play along with this strange charade, minus you who wanted nothing to do with any of this weird cosplaying thing, Izzy pulled Ed to the side to have a word with him.

You see them standing in the door. Izzy is obviously irritated with Ed. When you see Izzy giving Ed two middle fingers, you know that he has reached his tether.

Izzy marches out and grabs Stede by the collar. He drags Stede down below deck. No longer able to stand by, you follow him.

"How quickly can we move this vessel?" Izzy asks Stede.

"I'm not sure. That's really the crew's thing."

"How are you stocked for munitions?" Izzy asks him, grabbing him by the jacket again.

As you and Ed enter, Stede looks up. "Ed! Do you know this guy? He's a complete asshole!"

"Ivan! Fang! Prepare the guns. Execute anyone who won't fight." Izzy orders.

"Well, Blackbeard... what do you think?" Ed asks Stede, getting closer. You dare to move closer to where Izzy stands.

"Do you concur?"

"Me?" Stede asks him.

Realisation sinks in for you.

"You wanted to be Blackbeard. This is what it's like." Ed tells him.

"We could just talk to them."

"OK, yes, and do you speak Spanish?" Ed asks.

"No."

You sigh softly. Stede was about to learn what it meant to be an actual pirate.

Lucius comes in counting down from 20. You looked at him in slight confusion, but the look he gives Ed means this is something they understand. It dawns you he was counting down the time before the Spanish grew closer.

"Time is almost up. What are you going to do?"

"What?" Stede panics.

"They're on us now. Time for a new idea, Stede. The crew's going to die."

"I don't have an idea!"

"Hurry, you're going to lose all your men. It's all going to be your fault. All of the men who trusted you..."

"I don't know!"

"Their blood's going to be on your hands. It's going to be your fault!"

"I don't know!" Stede says again.

All you can do is stand there and hope someone has a fucking plan. You did not plan on actually dying today. You glance at Izzy, but he's just watching this back and forth interaction between the two men.

You'd never get to apologise properly to him.

"Time's up!" Lucius screams.

"I don't know what to do!" Stede yells.

"Death it is," Blackbeard says. "But wait..."

"You're a genius, Blackbeard!" Pete comes in grinning.

You let out the breath you were holding. You should have known there was a plan all along. You feel your muscles relax. You don't see the way Izzy looks over at you discreetly from where he stands.

Upon returning to deck you see the ship is surrounded by heavy fog. You could hardly see a thing outside the deck.

"I don't believe it," Izzy says.

"No one will see us in this," Fang speaks up.

"This is why you do not doubt Captain Blackbeard!" Ivan calls out.

"You knew this would happen?" Stede asks. "How?"

Ed takes a seat. "Quite simple, really. The colour of this morning's sky coupled with the brisk westerly wind made me think we'd be safe. And then the shape of the clouds confirmed it."

"Frankfurters," Izzy mutters. "Fuck me."

"Izzy, I figured the fog would set in once the sea cooled around dusk."

"'Cept we're right in their path. They'll run snack into us," Buttons says.

"Correct! On any other day, for it's September 2nd and tonight's a full moon. So life anchor, and let the ocean current drift us into the warm embrace of safety."

You can't deny that was clever thinking, but the way Izzy glances you makes you realise something is wrong. You ask him with a silent tilt of your head what the matter is, bit he just looks back up at Edward.

"Ed, Ed, it's September 1st, boss."

"What's that, mate?"

"It's September 1st."

"Dickfuck, no, it's not."

"He's right. It's the first," Lucius conform. "The full moon's tomorrow."

"It's a leap year." Ed sighs.

"Does that change things much?" Stede asks.

"Yeah. We're goners. Those of you who can swim would be wise to do it now."

The crew start asking questions, worried.

"Where are you going?" Stede asks.

"The Captain goes down with the ship. I'm going to get pissed."

Stede goes to follow Edward.

All you can do is look at Izzy. He's not looking at you, once again. You want to say something to him, but he walks away before you can utter a word. You sigh.

Fang comes over to you. "He missed you, ya know."

You look up at him. "Izzy?"

"Yeah. He probably won't appreciate me tellin' ya this, but I'm sure I'd heard him crying in his cabin most nights after the incident..."

You turn to look at where Izzy stands, staring out into the foggy sea.

"I can never make it up to him for making him believe I was dead..."

Fang places a hand on your shoudler. "Sure, you can."

Fang leaves you alone with your thoughts. You keep your eyes on Izzy and take a shake breath. That bastard will never understand how much you missed him.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 -

[terriblepersongreatseamonster]

(Please bear with me through this forthcoming ramble, because I've had all of 6 hours of sleep in the last two days and I'm a bit all over the place. Hopefully this will be coherent 😅)

I don't watch Bridgerton (that's a whole other post that I don't feel like typing out write now), but I've been fascinated by what I've seen on here from this newest season.

I turn 40 this year, and depending on your age you either think that's getting old or you think that I'm still relatively young. I bring this up, because what I'm seeing about Penelope and Colin is honestly something that I never thought I'd see.

Since I was twelve, I've dealt with weight issues. (At this point in my life, I know it's due to PCOS and some other health issues). I am barely 5'0" and typically fit into the 18/20 size clothes.

Being a teen in the late 90s/early 00s meant I didn't see people who looked like me get to be the romantic lead. Girls who looked like me were relegated to being the funny, supportive friend in the background. We got bullied and reminded that we weren't worthy of love or success because of our size. We went to school dances alone and sat on the bleachers while our friends slow-danced with their dates. We didn't get the love story, we got to watch someone else have the love story.

For such a long time I believed that my value as a person was tied to my weight. No matter what I did the weight wouldn't budge. Hell, I'm on Ozempic for my diabetes and I'm starting to think I'm the only person on the planet it doesn't cause weight loss for (it does however do a marvelous job of controlling my blood sugar, and at this point a healthy A1C is the thing that matters most).

I went on a few dates in my 20s with men who used my size as their reason to not continue dating (and yes, they all knew my size when they asked me out). When I started dating my husband, I went into it fully anticipating that no matter how much fun we might have he wouldn't be able to see past my size. I was wrong, and am so grateful for that.

It was only about 2 years ago that I started learning to see that I was far more than my weight. That whether I was my current size or managed to somehow be 100 lbs lighter, I'd still be the same person on the inside. I'd still have the same talents and skills, the same personality and humor. And while I've grown to see & love myself for who I am, it's still a day-by-day thing that I struggle with.

So, seeing this:

And this:

It hits me in a way that is hard to explain. I never thought I'd get to see something like this. Never thought I'd get to see someone my size and shape shown as beautiful and desirable.

Look at this woman, she is absolutely lovely:

I don't really know how to end this because now I'm crying. I guess my main point is that I feel seen and it's been an emotional rollercoaster.

And I may have to turn Netflix back on so I can see this season 😅

[thewisewill80sbyers]

Why did the writers make someone says ''Joyce prefers ppl over 18 years old''? That's such a weird thing honestly and i am not sure why does that even exist?

Some people pointed out that that part (and the mention of Lonnie's age) were deleted from the end product, but still, what was the initial reasoning and thought process here?

I mean we cannot even say Joyce was trying to be popular or trying to be rich (Lonnie doesnt give neither), so why would she date him? How did they even meet in the first place?

They probably met at school... it's a small town lol and some young people are just attracted by the idea of older people, maybe because they seek independence for themselves and subconsciously wish they could grow up faster, she REALLY wanted to leave Hawkins behind but then got stuck with Lonnie, she was already poor and probably got pregnant with Jonathan so she decided to give up her dreams to take care of him probably... Plus, again, it was considered pretty normal at the time unfortunately there were even 16yo that got married to adult men from what I know and they thought it was all good 😬

Plus guys like him are manipulative and trap you and keep you down doing emotional abuse on you and gaslighting, women as strong and usually fierce as Joyce is are often the target of these types of men because they see their spark and want to abuse them to kill it, I think they like the challenge and the idea of destroying someone in that way even if they will never admit it... But that's how emotional abuse works often, plus Joyce canonically suffers from anxiety (and I would even go ahead and say that the girlypop has unmedicated ADHD) and panic attacks which I think are probably connected to Lonnie's abuse on her too... Also with these relationships you have periods of times where everything's good and you start to think you can have that back so you cling to that idea in your head but in reality they keep you on a rollercoaster of a few ups and MANY downs until you break free

we know they got married from the show so they needed her to make that mistake for whatever reason and I think they wrote down what made the most sense for the story, Lonnie being an asshole player and Joyce being trapped because she was fascinated by older men and found one that was like that explains it pretty much

Plus keep in mind that the one saying that is another character, it's her pov on the situation so not even necessarily the truth about it, maybe Joyce is not even that much attracted by older men as she says and it's just the explanation that Sue gives to herself

[sugudoe]

hii i wanted to ask for a match make whistle as i love ur works and ideas sm!!!!?! 🪷

I’m 5’5 and a smidge chubby but I carry it curvy (am not keen though) (5’6 on a good day)

I’m quite a sarcastic person and make jokes quite a bit

I’ve been told that I am very kind despite my constant whining ( i try not to b a party pooper but need constant reassurance)

I love to bake! (Brownies is a personal fave recipe)

My mbti is infj (although I’m more of an ambivert depending on the situation. e.g. if there’s a rlly big crowd i will have to link arms with someone it’s an anxious habit. notoriously)

Love languages are 120% physical touch like i crave neck kisses n cuddles(who doesn’t) and i also like acts of service!

I like to spend time in to putting my makeup on and looking pretty- though I despise clothes shopping (head gets all fuzzy!)

I also have a fascination with reading!! Oh- and rollercoasters!!!

tysm whistle if you come to do this❤️❤️ you’re amazing keep up ur work bc i look forward to engaging and reading it!!!!

hii my angel, hope u like it! 🤍

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: okkotsu yuta

Out of all your classmates and close friends, the first years of Jujutsu Tech, 2017 class, you are the most interesting one for Okkotsu Yuta — let’s recap that there is a boy who only speaks in ingredients and a literal panda that talks and fights.

Maybe, he finds you the most amusing because when Gojo Satoru introduced him to class, you were the only one that stayed with your weapons and powers down, in fact, you jumped in front of Yuta to save him from your classmates. Rika would never admit, but she did liked you that day.

Yuta is, very notable for anyone, the most introvert and awkward person anyone had ever met, and a part of you tried to take care of him. Is a heavy power he has, a curse, but you are there when the weight feels too much.

It’s not only all about Yuta, all your needs are answered with the same intensity you devote to him! And Rika, although creepy sometimes, learns to give you space. Yuta has to threaten her, something that took you by surprise, he was always so gentle.

Your relationship starts merely days before the attack Geto planned, and he knew who you were from the start — trembling ideas in his mind, should he or should he not try to go for Okkotsu’s most prized thing? He did, in the end, you got badly hurt.

Through your blurry vision, drenched in blood, you saw Rika and your boyfriend fighting, and you tried to get up, but ended up falling to the ground, to slumber and defeat.

The feeling of fingertips tracing figures in your arms, and whispers of begging is what wake you up, in the hospital bed. He is all over you in an instant, after a small “Yuta..?”, his head goes straight to your neck, desperately devoting kisses to your beating vein, serving as a reminder that you are well.

Yuta takes his boyfriend and personal nurse duties to a charming extent, Rika doesn’t dare come and complain, you’re already hurt enough.

The boy makes sure all your needs are taken while you recover, he buys your groceries for your dorm, he sleeps with you instead of your teddy bears, and he makes your meals — even desert, you teach him while sitting on the small sofa how to make your perfect brownies, and the first tries he accidentally made cake, but practice makes perfection, and soon, you will be long healed and both making brownies for your friends to taste and say which one is the best.

Yuta does not like public spaces as much as the next person, but he goes wherever you want — a fair, a museum, anywhere and he follows. And if you feel like drowning in a bit of fear, you don’t even have to move first, he is already giving you his arm to hold. Yuta actually prefers to hug you.

In his arms, is a fact everyone can see, that’s your both safe space. A safe harbor.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ FUN FACTS.

◛ ₊· in your second year, your relationship sadly turns into a distance relationship one. fear not, call him at any time and he will pick up (even during a mission).

◛ ₊· he is kinda scared of roller coasters, but your insistence and his needs to make you happy always wins. he will scream though.

◛ ₊· you always picks him up from the airport, any moment with him in japan is mostly spend with you, in the safe space of your room, eating brownies and watching movies.

◛ ₊· he takes a while to understand your sarcasm, but he still laughs at your jokes. he is down bad.

[jandjsalmon]

FRC 2025 - January ❄️

Hello friends! I hope you've all been doing okay - given the state of the world and all. I am sending kind and loving thoughts to all of you who are worried, who are unsafe, and who are struggling. I see you, and I love you, and this is a safe place for you. 🖤

It's been a crazy month here - but I did take time to do some fun things... like going to rock concerts (see below - this is the fam at one of the last Sum41 concerts 😢).

So while year-end at the office and the Music Festival that I volunteer with have been keeping me SUPER busy - fandom life has also been intense. I may have accidentally made a viral post - which just cracked 50k notes this morning (and has completely murdered my Activity page) - and it even hit reddit - so now Bethy thinks she's famous. Ha ha. (for those of you new here - Bethy is the blonde one 4th from the front in the picture above)

Anyway, since I seem to have acquired a bunch of new followers, I apologize in advance for my blog not being what you probably expected it to be. But you're still welcome here. 👋🏻

Another year, another new task sheet for the @fanfic-reading-challenge - and boy is it hard! Super challenging - but it's definitely going to be fun. Remember, it's never too late to join up, and there is a Discord to ask for help and recs.

As I do every month, my progress and fic recs are below:

I was busy for the first half of the month creating a new spreadsheet to gather all my info - so that's why I haven't read as much I did last January. Still - I feel like this was a pretty great beginning.

One favourite fic I read this month was, Elf Lover by mildthemes. It's a Galadrial/Sauron fic from Rings of Power. Canon divergence pretty early on in Season 1. The inner workings of Sauron's head are fascinating and very funny. Instead of being unrepentantly obsessed with power, he's obsessed with equally obsessed "horse-girl" Galadriel instead. Some enemies to lovers for sure. There's some angst along the way (like when Sauron creates a single ring and gives it to Galadriel instead) and at one point Elrond essentially works as a couple's councillor but has to drink like 2 bottles of elf wine to do it, but their devotion is wonderful and their ending is domestic and happy. I made it a challenge to comment on every chapter and I got really emotional with the way they ended it. I highly recommend. 💯

I also read a few old favourites this month - one of which was I Will Follow You Into the Dark by my girl @feelavalanche. Violet/Tate (at the very highest level) from American Horror Story (which was my first tumblr fandom btw). This fic is a pretty big emotional rollercoaster. Pretend everything happened in Murder House like it did - except Violet lived. She got away and lived her life - but now she's going back for 'reasons'. There's a character death (but that's not news if you know the fandom). And CANCER is a big trigger warning for some folks. There are some GORGEOUS lines. Beautiful writing. Moments I've cried. It's from 2012 and I've read it more times than I can count. It just sticks with you. Sad. But with a happy ending (sorta?). I hope someone here will give it a try and enjoy!

[syntrahaven]

🌿 A dreamer building a digital sanctuary.

Hi there, dreamers and creators!

So, here I am—just trying to build my own little corner of the internet. A digital sanctuary, if you will. You know, one of those cozy spaces where creativity flows freely, stories come alive, and maybe (just *maybe*) someone else finds comfort or inspiration in what I create. But let’s be real: I’ve got *so much* to learn. Like… an overwhelming amount. But hey, isn’t that half the fun? :p

I’m diving headfirst into the world of AI, visual novels, and RPG game design because… well, why not? It’s equal parts thrilling and terrifying, but mostly thrilling. The idea of crafting worlds, characters, and stories that people can interact with? Yeah, sign me up for that rollercoaster. Of course, it’s not like I expect to become some legendary indie dev overnight. I mean, I still mix up basic coding terms sometimes (*is it “if” or “when”? Or is it both?! Help!*), but I’m here for the journey.

Digital art, storytelling, AI tools—they all fascinate me to no end. There’s something magical about taking an idea from your brain, feeding it into technology, and watching it grow into something tangible. And yeah, okay, sometimes it grows into something hilariously broken instead. But even then? Progress. Baby steps. Tiny pixelated victories.

As I stumble through tutorials, experiment with new tools, and probably cry over a few failed projects (hey, it happens to the best of us), I’ll do my best to share bits and pieces of my progress here. Think of it as part journal, part brainstorming session, and part “laugh-at-my-mistakes-because-they’re-kind-of-funny.” Who knows? Maybe someone out there will relate, offer advice, or even join me on this chaotic adventure.

So, if you’re reading this, thank you for stopping by. Be patient with me—I promise I’m learning as fast as I can! In the meantime, let’s embrace the messy, beautiful process of creation together. Oh, and feel free to drop a comment or message if you have tips, resources, or just want to chat about your own projects. Community vibes only, always.

P.S. If anyone has advice for staying motivated when things get tough, hit me up. Coffee and chocolate are great motivators, but I could use more sustainable strategies, lol. Catch you in the next post, friends! 🫂

[gracehosborn]

Sincere question! With all the research work you're doing for your books, why are you choosing to write a novel and not a biography?

Howdy, Anon!

I’m so sorry this took forever to answer!! That’s a great question! There are two parts to the answer: 1) how my project’s premise formed, and 2) the factor of my own personal preferences.

The basic premise of The American Icarus is the telling of Alexander Hamilton’s life story, but in the style of a posthumous memoir (I.e.: in the first person, past tense). The real Alexander Hamilton never had the ability to write his memoirs, nor did he keep a diary/journal throughout any large period of his life (despite the recommendation by a friend). The closest Hamilton came to keeping a journal is when, over the course of July, 1795, he kept record of a trip he took to meet with a few indigenous tribes. Although spanning nearly a month, this manuscript only amounts to four pages; the entries, while consistent, are extremely brief and devoid of any real detail or personal reflections (see it here in the LC-AHP). By comparison, all five of the remaining (and most famous) “founding fathers” produced either, or both, of these types of literature to lengthy extents. One then is left to wonder at what Hamilton’s memoirs may have contained—how he might have chosen to present his life against the historical record. I was hooked on the thought enough to take a swing at trying to explore the “whys” and potential rationale between the folds of Hamilton’s rollercoaster of a life. In doing so, the only avenue that would have worked would be a work of fiction.

With a premise such as the above, detail is integral to make it believable, which has resulted in the current state of things. My personal life also comes into play: I am currently pursuing a bachelors degree in history, with the intent of applying to graduate programs within the next year or so. I have had a love for the research process for years—I find it thrilling to try and uncover evidence of the real weird and wacky humans behind the characters/personas/mythologies that exist in the public conscious. The real exciting story is in the details, so to speak. Naturally, whether ultimately useful to TAI’s narrative or not, I therefore can’t help but dig as deep as I can into Hamilton’s life and his world. Over the course of my degree thus far, I have also come to extremely appreciate the stories that history itself has left us, and have found that more often than not, the real history of something is more fascinating than anything fictionalized about it. That being said, I am also a storyteller. I generally find fiction more engaging to write than academic/non-fiction work (says the aspiring academic). I’m able to sort of escape into a different world and try someone else’s shoes on, rather than just report on a topic from afar.

Going as far as I have with my research has also allowed me the chance to give some lesser-known figures some attention within the narrative, besides just a footnote in a non-fiction text, such as James Moore and Thomas Thompson (officers in Hamilton’s artillery company), or the servant who accompanied Hamilton while he served as Washington’s aide-de-camp. And there are hundreds more examples I could give. Although few historical records survive of these individuals, structuring this project as a work of fiction has allowed me the opportunity to let these people “come alive” and acknowledge the real involvement they had in Hamilton’s life, and our history.

I do strongly believe that an updated, in-depth, and thoroughly researched cradle-to-grave Hamilton biography is needed, however if I’ll be the one to embark on that project, I can’t say at the moment. TAI is quite exhausting already. 😂

This reply got so long, but I hope it’s what you were looking for!