#i know there are other elements to this discussion

[scannainscanrula]

shadowed corners

remmick x reader (18+ mdni)

You're a romance author suffering from insomnia, writer's block, and strange nightmares. Your publisher offers to send you to Maine for a short sabbatical to clear your head. It's a quaint town with charming locals, and a mysterious man running the lighthouse that nobody seems to know much about... [part two here]

author's note: well well here we are again. this is MUCH longer than my other fic and i intend to have at least 3(?) chapters for it, so strap in girlies. no smut just yet yous have to earn it first by sitting through all this fucking exposition. grma enjoy! warnings: horror elements, discussion of animal death, discussion of shark attacks, sexual themes

You sit at your desk in front of an empty document, the cursor blinking at you mockingly. Your eyes are tired and your head feels heavy, and the last time you fell asleep at your desk you had drooled on your keyboard, and you really don’t want to find a place to get it fixed. 

“An old-school computer always helps me when I have writer’s block,” one of your colleagues had told you at a cocktail party when you lamented about your publisher’s insistence on a new concept.

You had a very embarrassing and uncomfortably visible breakdown in her windows-only corner office. You began word-vomiting all over her sleek carbon fibre desk about your writer’s block and insomnia– leaving out the extra embarrassing detail of your recurring sexy nightmares– and she had patted your back and attempted to comfort you with corporate jargon. When the tears started she lowered some blinds and lowered her voice, sitting against the edge of the desk in front of her.

“Look, kid. You’re a hell of a writer, okay? Nothing sells like your stuff. I mean, I don’t get it, but the girls love this… creepy vampire stalker shit.”

Dark romance, you want to correct her, but it’s futile after four years working together. 

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“How about… I give you a company card and you go… rent on the coast somewhere for a few months? We have some contracts to draft because these streaming services are just chomping at the bit for rights to adapt. So you go pack your things and take a break. Get an Ambien prescription, fuck a fisherman, whatever you need to do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll bankroll it.”

She taps her manicured acrylic nail on the cover of your most recent title, Shadowed Corners. It was a total and complete success, where your first two were mafia romances set in the same universe, SC was a dark romance with a vampire love interest stalking your adorable main character. You love red flags, and Milo was covered in them.  

“You’re a money-printing machine, babe.”

So here you are, not relaxing, not on sleeping pills, and completely unfucked by any hot guys. You press your fingers to your temples and sigh, closing the pages and pushing the circular off button for the computer. You slide back and lean forward, stretching your creaky back. You miss your cozy little setup at home, your comfortable chair and the souped-up gamer style keyboard. You sacrificed comfort hoping it would make you work harder, but you think you’ll just finish this little sabbatical with more lower-back pain than usual. 

You fill your water bottle with the filter in the fridge, admiring the stickers all over it. Among the logo of your publishing house and the ones about writing, you have fanart of your books and quotes from your own characters. Ones you’ve found at book fairs and second-hand stores as well as online. A handful were sent along with fanmail. Your laptop and idea notebook are covered too, because it drove you mad to know people liked your stuff enough to make art out of it. 

You huff and trudge up the stairs, feeling exhausted and dreading the next day. You sit in your bed and look at the sticker of Milo with his signature phrase I’d like to see you stop me, babygirl. 

You turn the bottle away from you as you open the bedside drawer. Inside of it are two options. A scent-proof bag that holds your pipe, grinder, and bud, a vape, and a few edibles. The other is a vibrator. You wonder what the point of this vacation was. You could get high and get off at home in the city. And at least there you could order munchies for delivery after you’d fucked yourself silly thinking about the made-up vampire in your head.

You just shut the drawer, rolling your eyes as you lay back. 

Two hours later, you can’t sleep. You’re “jerking off your ego” as your friends would call it, looking through positive reviews of your last title. You know you have detractors, people who think your work is trash or anti-feminist. It’s a little trashy, but it’s just for fun. And you’ve had your share of shitty boyfriends like any girl your age, you know the difference between right and wrong. God forbid a girl wants a hot vampire to follow her home, you think. 

You sit up and put your phone face down. You need fresh air. You need a walk. So, you bundle up and stick in headphones for a brisk, freezing, 7 PM wintertime mental health walk. The New England air isn’t just cold, it’s thick and wet with the marine layer from the ocean, which you’re a short walk away from. It’s not nice, but it does invigorate you as you follow the path from your little cottage down to the beach. It’s pretty private, tucked away in a little alcove– which you were warned not to enter when the tide is too high. You peek over to see it’s not. So you climb down and skirt around the rocks to walk on the main beach, which is empty. Obviously. The recently released audiobook of one of your peers’ newest titles plays in your ears, narrated by a sultry English man. You should have gone somewhere else for inspiration. You vaguely remember hearing someone at a book release party talk about how inspiring their trip to France was, and another person responded about their time in Ireland. You’ve mostly just met fishermen and townies, and none of these men had the Milo quality about them. 

Milo was inspired by a stunning man you saw while at a nightclub in New York City. You were very, very drunk on espresso martinis, but you saw him and his adorable girlfriend– who also served as your muse for Annmarie, SC’s protagonist– at the bar together. His arm was around her waist in a way that was possessive but romantic, his hand rested over her tummy, and you saw his thumb rubbing circles into her skin lovingly. 

“Oh my God, girl, are you seriously drooling? You are so drunk,” your friend had half-sighed, half-laughed as you wiped a little drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“We have got to get you some dick, queen,” another friend joked.

“I am perfectly fine being single,” you protested.

“Nuh-uh, I read that last book of yours. All work and no dick makes you fucking crazy. How did you come up with that shit anyway?”

“She’s totally sick in the head, that’s how.”

Your back straightens up as you think you hear a voice.

“Miss!”

You pause the book and turn around to see a man jogging behind you, holding something in his hands. You freeze with terror until you realise it’s your notebook he’s holding.

“You dropped this,” he says, handing it over. He stays a nice distance away from you.

He has some sort of Southern accent, not New England. 

And he is very, very attractive. He wears a tight black t-shirt and black athletic shorts. His short hair is semi-dark, and probably reddish from the way it looks in the blue moonlight. He smiles politely at you, his dark eyes are hard to see. There’s a scruff of facial hair on him.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, I… I woulda tapped your shoulder, but I was worried you’d sock me in the nose if I scared you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Are you uh… you okay? It’s pretty dark out here.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just clearing my head.”

“Right.”

You take a breath and introduce yourself quickly.

���I’m Remmick,” he says.

“So, what are you doing out here, Remmick?”

“Well, I work at that lighthouse. Just takin’ a jog before I head up there.”

“Oh.”

Hot lighthouse worker. That could be a love interest.

“You on vacation? I think I’d remember your face if I’d seen it before.”

Charming lighthouse worker. 

“I’m uh… on a sort of sabbatical.”

“You a doctor or something?”

“God, no. I’m a writer.”

“Yeah?”

The tone and timbre of that yeah have your head spinning. 

“Books or what?”

You nod.

“What kind?”

You hesitate.

“Can I guess?”

“Go for it.”

He thinks for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he does, which makes you flush. 

“Are they scary?”

“Parts of them are scary,” you admit. 

You remembered researching for SC and finding out that a lot of people only have a little over one gallon of blood in their bodies. You felt lightheaded and queasy at the visual of a plastic gallon bottle full of blood.

“But they ain’t all scary, huh?”

“Nope.”

He eyes you and smirks.

“Are they dirty?”

You hesitate and suck in air through clenched teeth.

“Yeah. They’re pretty dirty.”

“You must make good money, huh?”

He chuckles and you shrug.

“I do alright.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Where’re you stayin’?”

You pause and he holds up his hands.

“That probably sounded creepy. I only meant… there’s some nice places, and there’s a Holiday Inn.”

“Well, it’s not the Holiday Inn.”

He looks at the watch on his hand.

“Shit. Well, I gotta get goin’.”

He says your name and your chest fills up with a weird feeling. Half-elation, half-dread.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” you respond.

“Only if you keep walkin’ at night. Boats don’t need a lighthouse in the daytime,” he explains quickly, jogging off toward the beacon.

Hot lighthouse worker who’s charming and funny. Now that could work.

You go home and open the fridge. Time for boxed wine in a mug as you power-write for the next forty-five minutes until your hands cramp up.

You put the notebook down and pull out your favorite pen. You need certainty when you put book ideas down. You write in quick, messy bullet points, only getting down little ideas. You heard that coastal New England towns are famous for gruesome murder. Your instincts take you to the mafia but one glance at your water bottle has you thinking otherwise. SC was such a success, and you’re the vampire girl now. 

So you begin to pen the vague outline of a dark romance with a steamy, stalkery vampire lighthouse worker. A man in thick knit sweaters with a messy beard– that could get messier covered in blood or buried between a writer’s thighs–

You pause and see you’ve written writer on the page. You cringe and scribble that out. You had your humble beginnings with composition notebook self-insert fanfiction as a tween, but you’re a big girl now. And you’re already writing prose over a guy you just met, you really don’t need to make it any weirder. Your mind goes through some humble, wholesome occupations to compliment a love interest like that. Baker? Too cliche. Schoolteacher? Too male gaze. Big city corporate lawyer? Too Hallmark movie.

You tap back of the pen against the page rhythmically and sit up. Investigative journalist. Still technically a writer, but the only things you investigate are late-night Twitter links on a private spam account not even your best friends know about. 

Your pen dashes across the page, scrawling wildly. There’s not even any music playing, just the not-so-distant sound of the ocean, the radiator, and your own hand brushing against the paper. Soon, you’ve filled five pages without realising and that doubles in a blink. Shit! Your hand cramps up and you lift the pen finally, massaging your other thumb into your palm. It’s time for bed now, as three hours have passed and your back is killing you. 

You ascend the stairs again and just go to sleep, hand and wrist sore and content with your productivity.

You wake up surprisingly early the next day, and decide to go into town to get some groceries. Your fridge is looking sparse and the pantries are basically empty. You buy some frozen stuff and some supplies to make coffee. You see the honey is placed on the highest shelf you’ve ever seen and huff. No workers around. You can probably get it on your tiptoes. You strain to reach it and hear a man’s voice.

“Can I help you with that?”

You almost fall dropping to your feet again, and a shooting pain goes up from your heels.

“Ow, shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

It’s a man in a lifeguard’s hoodie with red swim trunks on. Maybe you hit your head and you’re having some sort of insane Baywatch fantasy.

“Yes. Please.”

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know who puts this stuff up there. The lady who owns this place is like, four-eleven.” You laugh at that as he hands you the honey.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m Chris, by the way.”

You give him your name and shake his hand. Fucking hell this guy is strong. 

“Are you visiting?”

“Yeah. For a few months though. I’m working on a book.”

“You write horror?”

“Sorry?”

“Um, Stephen King’s from Maine. I feel like horror writers are always trying to… come out here and get some of that inspiration.”

“I think the inspiration he had was-”

“Cocaine?” he says at the same time as you. He shrugs. “At least you can recognise that. Half the other writers are ready to climb into the sewer.”

“Shit, well there goes my day at the rock quarry,” you joke. 

He laughs at that and you grin. 

“I’m a lifeguard on the beach for the next six hours, if you um… feel like you need some fresh air. Sunlight isn’t really a November specialty.”

“Are people really swimming this time of year?”

“Oh, they are. But so are the great whites, so, I’m mostly on seal watch.”

“Right.”

“I’m in tower Four,” he tells you eagerly. It’s like the words just jump right out of his mouth. “It’s right by the lighthouse. Nobody swims there, so… if you wanna tell me about your book or something… my job is pretty boring.”

“I’ll see you out there, Chris.”

“See you.”

You check out and ride the bike the homeowner left for guests back to the cottage. You feel insane. Maybe you were hospitalized after that breakdown and this is all some elaborate, drugged-up daydream you’re in. You pull out your notebook after the groceries are put away and flip to a new page. You click your pen and write HOT LIFEGUARD at the top of the page. 

A love triangle sounds awesome.

Later on, after you actually manage to type some words on a new, more permanent outline document, your vision drifts out the window. It is actually kind of a nice day, even though it’s overcast and windy. You stand and squeeze your hands together, stretching out. It is time for another brisk walk, this time to Tower Four.

Chris sits up there, slumped in his chair and holding his rescue tube in his lap. His tanned, toned legs are wide as he sits back.

“Would it scare you really bad if I started yelling ‘help’?” you joke, peering up at him from the ground.

He chirps your name, sitting up and sliding his sunglasses on top of his head, pushing back his hair. 

“You made it.”

“I brought you a snack,” you say, handing up the small bag of chocolates.

“Wicked,” he says, taking it from your hand. He swings down like a monkey and sits with his feet dangling off the side of the tower. You share the candies and look out on the water.

“So, you gonna tell me about your book?”

“Yeah, I’m not a horror writer.”

“What do you write?”

You hesitate. You know this song and dance, the divulgence of your career and the weird stares and uncomfortable shifting that follows. It’s ruined all sorts of dates and first impressions. Fuck it. You’re on sabbatical.

“Um… dirty romance books.”

“No shit? Is it like that crazy mafia stuff online?”

“Yeah, it’s exactly that.”

“Killer. You make a lot of money?”

“Enough to stay here and not work for three months.”

“So… you’re not writing a book?”

You shake your head.

“My creative well is completely dry. I came out here for-”

“Don’t even say it.”

“-some inspiration.”

“You are such a liar,” he teases. “You’re just like all those Stephen King wannabes,” he jokes, turning away from you.

You laugh at his silliness. You remain for a while, chatting about life and the town.

“The city is wild. I’m getting used to the silence, I think,” you tell him, having moved to– illegally– sit on the tower with him.

“Is the crime really so crazy out there?”

“Yeah, I mean… most of that is just there’s so many people crammed into such a small place. People go nuts.”

“Damn.”

“No crime here?”

“Not here, no, but um… about twenty miles north there’s this beach town, it’s a complete tourist getaway, but they got rocked by some shark attacks a few years back.”

“Some shark attacks?” you repeat his casual wording, shocked.

“Sorry. That sounded insensitive, it was really scary. That place is on its last legs now.”

“Well, yeah. Who wants to stay at the Jaws resort?”

“Bull shark, probably. The same thing happened in nineteen-sixteen. It was pretty gruesome.”

“Are you fucking with me?” you question him seriously, eyes squinted.

“I’m being serious, look it up.”

“Huh. Shit.” You sit back, eyes wandering to the lighthouse.

“Have you ever met the person who works up there?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking creepy.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“You met him?”

“Mhm. Last night.”

“Remmick? The lighthouse guy? You met him?”

“Yeah…? He was jogging.”

“Fucking weirdo,” Chris mutters. “He’s a complete shut-in.”

“How long has he been here?”

“Couple years? I don’t really know when he got here, he just… was there one day.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, well. We used to have a night lifeguard, and– listen, I can admit having a girl out here on her own was pretty stupid– not that girls are… incapable or something-”

“I get it.”

“Right. And… full disclaimer, this girl really liked shrooms, but she swears up and down that she saw that guy covered in blood and eating a seal.”

“Whoa.”

“I mean, there was a dead seal on the beach, she was right about that.”

“Great white?”

“Oh, for sure. I’m think he was probably just doing that creepy-ass night jogging by the tower when that seal washed up, and… sometimes the sharks don’t fully kill the things-”

You grimace.

“I know, it’s pretty sad. Anyway, probably it was yowling and her fucking shroomed out brain conjured up that pretty picture. But he’s just a weird guy. He’s totally nocturnal. I’ve never seen the guy in the daytime. I’ve probably seen him six times and talked to him like… two, maybe?”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Anyways, sorry. That was a lot. I’d just stay away from the guy if you can. I don’t know what his deal is.”

You swiftly change the subject to movies and TV, which is good, because you two seem to share the same interests. Strangely enough, vampires are among them.

“I have sisters, so, I’ve seen Twilight about a hundred times? Maybe more?”

You laugh at that. You see him grinning and you check phone, seeing that two hours have passed.

“Shit. I have got to get back.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for the company. And the advice,” you add, nodding to the lighthouse.

“Um… would you want to grab a drink, tomorrow?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Um… where?”

“It’s called The Weasel. It’s definitely a townie bar, but… the drinks are cheap.”

You are fiending for an espresso martini, and you fear you’ll have to settle for an old reliable at a dive bar. 

“Alright.”

“Cool. Um… eight o’clock sound good?”

“Eight o’clock sounds great.”

“Awesome. See you there.”

“I will see you there.”

Your back hits a tree as you pant, unable to run anymore. Your lungs burn as you gasp for cold night air in a dark, damp forest. You’re barefoot, in a wet nightgown that sticks to your skin and you’re terrified. 

You tremble, feeling the looming presence of something evil and ancient, rising up in front of you. Met with words in a language you don’t understand, a clawed hand grips your jaw. They’re wet and sticky, hot with something you realise is blood. The creature laughs at you cruelly and on the other hand grabs a handful of your nightgown, claws ripping through the fabric as it tears a strip down the center. The hand cups between your legs. It splits your lips carefully– almost reverently– brushing a knuckle between your folds, claws away from your most sensitive skin. You gasp and shiver, hands against the tree. You’re wet, though. Soaking the creature’s hands as it coats your skin in blood. It’s so dark and your vision is blurry with tears, you only see two red spots staring at you, and the glint of pearly fangs as the jaw of the creature opens and lurches forward.

You shoot up and sigh, panting as you try to catch your breath. You’ve been plagued with these “psychosexual night terrors”, as your therapist calls them, since you finished writing SC. Some weeks they’re sparse and other ones you can’t sleep without waking up sticky and horrified. Your cortisol levels are through the roof and your sex drive is in the stratosphere. The running theory is that your frantic writing for the deadline of SC drove you just a little bit crazy, and your panic and arousal from writing about Milo’s sexy antics while your publishing house breathed down your neck combined and manifested as the scary void creature in your nightmares.

You take a cold shower that morphs into an everything shower when you remember your date with Chris. Not a date. Just grabbing a drink. Could be a date.

You feel like a kid again, having a cute summer fling with a boy at sleepaway camp with the distant bitter sweetness of knowing you’ll leave in three months. Except you are an adult woman and if you do fall in love, you could just move here forever. 

But that’s wishful thinking.

You wait at the bar patiently. You’re a punctual girl, your agent adores that about you, so you are a little early. You chat with the bartender. She’s an older woman with a thick Mainer accent. 

“Let me guess-”

“Not a horror writer,” you joke back. 

She laughs at that. Her laugh is creaky but comforting, and you can tell she’s a smoker.

“You look nervous.”

“I’m meeting somebody?”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t say who, because I’m guessing you know everyone.”

“Well, I also know who’s single and who isn’t. If you’re worried he’s married, just give me a name.”

The bar is quiet, some men play pool and a group of vacationing dads drink beers and watch some sports on an outdated television. 

You order another drink as you watch the clock behind the bar tick on.

By eight thirty, you’re sufficiently buzzed. You didn’t even get his phone number to text him.

By nine, you decide you should go home. You thank the bartender and leave her a generous tip. You’ll be too embarrassed to come in here for a while.

You take the bike home, slumping on the sofa in the living room as you kick off your heels. You feel tears pricking at your eyes and rub them away, not caring about your smudged eyeshadow or makeup. You wipe it off in the bathroom and change out of your clothes. You need another walk. Maybe you’ll run into the allegedly very creepy lighthouse man and you’ll get some inspiration. 

“I’ll show you Stephen King wannabe, dickhead,” you mutter to yourself, pulling on your coat and shoving your notebook in your pocket. 

You follow the familiar motions, down the path, out through the alcove, and down the beach. You have some angry music playing this time as you stomp down the beach and pass the lifeguard towers. Shrooms girl better thank her lucky stars she’s off night shift, because you look pissed off right now. You stalk all the way down to tower four and roll your eyes. This is a tantrum. You’re an adult.

“I thought I might see you again,” a voice calls. Remmick is on a ledge above you, leaning on the wooden railing. 

“Can I come up there?”

“I’m not gon’ tell you what to do, sweetheart.”

You try to ignore the fire that lights in you and climb the sand and rock stairs, joining him on the ledge. He sits on a bench and pats the seat next to him.

“I heard a lot about you today, from a couple locals,” you tell him, lying about it.

You get the feeling Chris was being insecure, or maybe Remmick’s stolen one too many girls from him. 

“Yeah, I’m a seal-eating nightwalker, you got me,” he jokes, his hands up in mock surrender.

You exhale through your nose. You wish you could laugh harder.

“I’m just a solitary kinda fella. People here, shit, they tight knit like fishin’ nets. They think everybody’s gotta know everybody’s business. Nobody knows mine, so they’ve been makin’ things up for the past three years.” 

“Sorry I brought it up.”

“Hey, I’d rather you hear it from me.”

He looks at you for a moment and rubs a hand over his knee.

“You look upset.”

“Yeah. I uh…”

You hesitate, and see him lean forward, actively listening.

“It’s stupid.”

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to speak.

“I got stood up,” you admit.

“For a date?”

“Not exactly. Just drinks.”

He clicks his tongue.

“That’s no good. Must be a pretty dumb guy, to stand you up.”

“Yeah. That was a dickhead move. I’m just hoping it was more of a… ‘oh shit, I totally forgot’ kind of thing.”

He eyes you and you cross your legs.

“Still. You musta gotten all dolled up for it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, I uh… I’m not so much a bar kind of fella, but if you wanna come out here sometimes all dolled up…” he leans in, “I got some good whiskey and two glasses.”

You lean in too, close to him.

“I might take you up on that, Remmick.”

“I gotta get up there,” he murmurs, looking at your lips as he speaks.

“Right.”

He doesn’t move, locked in place for a moment. He seems to shake off the spell and sits back, scrubbing a hand down his face, wiping his mouth. It almost looks like he’s wiping away drool. He stands up.

“You uh, you alright to walk home on your own?”

Words flash in your mind, the scene from SC where Milo promises to stalk Annmarie home, which results in him watching through the window as she touches herself. You’re drunk, you realise, as the neurons in your brain flicker out and blood rushes down your body.

“Yeah, I should be fine.”

“Right.”

He starts to walk away and turns back.

“I mean it. You come up see me sometime.”

“I will.”

You mean that, too.

Remmick thumbs through your notebook. How can you even understand this stuff? Your messy handwriting is charming. He reads through descriptions of vampire lore and fangs and turning that make him chuckle. He thinks of the smell of you, that hot scent of desire and the buzzing of your intoxicated body as you sat together. He’s so fucking cold in Maine, and he hasn’t been touched in years. He imagines you’d be hot to the touch. He knows you’re frustrated, you’ve been dissatisfied with pleasuring yourself. The descriptions of sex scenes have him biting back groans and palming himself through his pants. 

He flips to the final page.

HOT LIFEGUARD

His eyes narrow as he realises who it was that stood you up. He turns the page back over, scanning through your previous writing. 

LIGHTHOUSE VAMPIRE LOVER. CLAIMS TO KILL FOR HER. STALKERY? MILO PART II. LESS TENDER. MORE EVIL.

Oh, you’re fucking crazy. 

He grins, his fangs sliding down.

He can make do with crazy.

You wake up early, painful early. You dress groggily and decide to get some air on the beach before the dickhead lifeguard starts his shift. You’re slightly hungover as you traverse down the path and through the alcove to walk on the beach. 

The light is pale and you have to watch your step for kelp as you walk down. You see something up on the sand, and your heart sinks.

It has to be a seal. It’s not breathing, so you look at the nearest lifeguard tower for the animal control. You dial the number and wait patiently.

“Hello?” a voice that sounds just as groggy as you feel answers.

“Hi, I’m um, I’m on the beach right now and I think there’s a dead seal by the first lifeguard tower.”

“Oh, hell. Sorry, miss. It’s too damn early. Do you see any marks on it?”

“It’s hard to see with the fog. Is it safe to get closer?”

“Seals aren’t half as aggressive as sea lions, miss, so go ahead.”

You step closer, squinting with the fog. It’s absolutely dead, not moving at all. You approach it cautiously, worried about what other creatures might be lurking around.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

This is not a seal.

This is Chris the lifeguard, and he’s missing an arm.

[deansimagination]

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Warning: NSFW, cunnilingus, somnophilia

Summary: reader has recently started training but has started to have some crazy dreams about Az. Unbeknownst to reader, she is pushing her dreams into Azriel’s because she’s his mate. He does not have self control to say the least to deny her what she wants.

~

Recently, you had been having very vivid dreams. Vivid in the sense that you had been waking up feeling disoriented and like everything that happened in your sleep had actually occurred in real life. Especially the sensations. You felt everything, smelled everything, tasted everything. It wasn’t that your dreams were particularly dull prior to this new development, but they had never made you feel such things.

It seemed to have started a couple weeks ago. You had been working with Rhysand and the inner circle as an emissary between the Night Courts and the other courts in Prythian for a few decades now. Although you had been living with them for quite some time, you had never quite taken to any sort of training. However, when Nesta approached you a few weeks ago and asked if you would like to join her and the other priestesses, you gave her a reluctant “Sure….”

You really liked Nesta, and wanted to support her in her pursuit of doing something meaningful for these women, and for herself. You could see that her plans were already having a positive effect on her experience here in the Night Court, and they were healing some part of herself that you knew needed attention. So, although you felt that training had absolutely no pertinence to your job, you wanted to support a friend.

Which brings you to the start of this whole mess.

~2 weeks ago~

You had arrived 20 minutes early to the training ground, mostly due to pure nerves. Nesta helped you obtain some Illyrian leathers, which she promised would be comfortable to train in. She lied, because although they kept you warm as you stood outside, they did feel a pretty tight.

You didn’t want to just stand around as you waited for everyone to arrive, so you just started stretching your muscles. It had been quite awhile since you invested any real time in developing your physique, but at least you knew to stretch before doing anything extraneous. You thought this training might be good, just in case one day push came to shove you could at least defend yourself. However, you hadn’t really exercised because you were busy with court relations and were always traveling, and you also happened to love your body…. A lot. If there was one think you knew, it was that you were always confident in yourself, mind and body, which helped in all your work endeavors.

Now you weren’t so sure. You felt completely out of your element. This isn’t something you could maneuver yourself out of with your quick wit or an intelligent argument. You had to face this head on. As your anxiety was getting ready to fester, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a cool dark wisp brushing your ankles and wrists, which you quickly recognized as Azriels shadows. You turned your body around to see where he was, only to find him watching you with his arms crossed.

“Nice of you to join us” he smirked at the end of his sentence, almost sounding amused. You and Azriel had a good relationship, although you didn’t get to spend much time with him due to your travels. You did like him though, you guys had a similar sense of humor, liked a lot of the same books, could have very interesting discussions, and you both seemed to have a similar competitive streak.

“I thought it was finally time that I learn how to kick your ass physically since I’m getting tired of cards” you said as you crossed your arm, giving him a little raise of your brow.

“I think you’re in for a rude awakening, Sweetheart. I’m not sure you’ll ever be able to kick my ass… Physically of course, ” Azriel smiled as he took a few steps closer to you “you’re here early.”

“I was eager to start learning” you lied. He did not need to know about your nerves, although you guessed that his shadows had already alerted him of your fast heart beat and sweat gathering in your palms. He was about to say something when you heard a group of voices approaching, thankfully saving you from whatever embarrassing thing he was about to say.

Cassian, Nesta, and a fairly big group of her new trainees came into view. You were excited for these women but scared for yourself, so you prayed to the Mother that you would give yourself the same encouragement you were inclined to give total strangers.

(A Few Hours Later)

You were panting and sweating like you had been running for years. You had not expected the intensity that the morning held. You started with some strength building exercises, then moved on to some simple fighting movements. Azriel and Cassian had decided to do a simple demonstration for the group. But, as the sun had risen, the temperature increased significantly, which led to Cassian and Azriel shedding their leathers. Although you were trying to focus on the hand and foot movements of the two males in front of you, your eyes kept drifting to the sculpted chest of Azriel. You had never looked at Az in that way, although you found him very attractive. But now you couldn’t help how your eyes hungrily trailed the sweat beading from his neck, down his chest, quickly falling down a sculpted v into his leathers. Your mouth had suddenly run dry, and you licked your lips, very distracted by the sight in front of you. And, your distraction was apparently very noticeable.

“Y/N, I’ve been saying your name for a few seconds now. Seems like something has gotten your attention” Nesta quirked her lips, amusement clear in her eyes.

“No no… I’m just focused on the, um, lesson” you could feel the blush heating your cheats. Great, even you didn’t believe that horseshit.

“Well, I’m sorry to distract you since the demonstration is over. I just wanted to ask how you’re liking the training” Nesta asked, thankfully letting your little ogle session go.

“I like it, and it seems like I need it. It’s very challenging, which I thought I would hate but I actually enjoy” you told her truthfully. She gave you a genuine smile and fully faced you.

“I’m so glad! So you’ll continue coming” she stated, not leaving room for argument. You just smiled and nodded, happy that she seemed happy. Nesta looked over your shoulder, smirking to herself and quickly told you she’d see you later. You were about to reach for her when you heard a very recognizable deep voice.

“So, are you ready to kick my ass?” Azriel mused, challenge dancing in his eyes. He was still shirtless, his tattoos proving to easily (very easily) distract you for a second. This didn’t go unnoticed, as you looked back into Azriels eyes, and found them zeroed in on you.

“One day Shadowsinger” you tried to remain cool, but again felt heat on your face. You quickly turned around and rushed away from the training ground.

~Present~

Which brings you to now, and your vivid dreams. After feeling some sort of way toward Azriel during training, you were having some intense dreams about him, which only seemed to get worse as you continued to go to training.

In the last two weeks, you went to training every single day. You continued getting stronger and developing your skill, but when you were training you always had lingering thoughts of Azriel. You could always feel his eyes burning into you as he watched your train, sometimes coming to correct your form and give you advice. When he did correct your form, he would place his hands on you, which would almost always cause you to take a sharp intake of breath. It was like he was sending electricity through your veins every time he did it. And why did he always have to be shirtless? You’re sure he knows what he’s doing, but you would never confront him about it.

Your attraction for him was growing more and more, which was causing your dreams to be relentless. The first few nights has been innocent enough. Kindof. You were dreaming of him training you, shirtless of course, one-on-one. He was always so close to you, you could feel the warmth of his skin as he demonstrated what to do. You could smell cedar and mist and salt as he would step into your space.

That was the innocent start.

When he had started to correct your form and breathe his suggestions far too close to your ear, the dreams took a turn. In the dreams, he was still training you, but now he was getting closer and more confident. When he would correct your form, he would come up behind you and change the position of your arms. His hands would linger, slowly drifting down your sides down to your hips, where he would tighten his grip, then let go. When he would give you advice, he would come up behind you, his lips brushing over your ear as he whispered to you, his hand resting on your torso just under your breasts, holding your body securely to his. Your breath would hitch and you would turn your face away from his voice, giving him access. He would dip his head and run his nose along the crane of your neck, surely smelling the not so subtle shift in your scent. He would begin peppering kisses to your sensitive skin as his hand would begin to travel south.

He would make quick work with the ties on your leathers, and his hands would drift into the fabric of your pants. He would push your panties to the side and feel exactly how excited he was making you feel.

“You’re so wet sweetheart.” He would state.

“Azriel please” you would breathe out, to which he always responded, “Tell me exactly what you want to me to do to you.”

But you always woke up after that.

Azriels POV

Y/N coming to training was proving to be an incredibly difficult feat. Although I enjoyed spending time with her when she was back home from her emissary trips, it made keeping my little secret hard.

In all honesty, the bond had snapped for me several months ago. Although I had always felt an attraction to her, I was shocked when the golden thread laced my soul to hers, but just because I didn’t feel like Id had enough time with her. We always enjoyed each others company; she made me laugh and always drove me crazy when we would get into little debates, card games, or anything that had to do with competition. She had a fire in her eyes that I’m sure mirrored my own, her competitive nature always drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

Now that she was training, my self control was beginning to become loose. I had to see her moving about the training ground in her tight leathers, which did everything for her figure. And when I saw she needed correction, I had to be the one to do the correcting. I could not bother to think about anyone else putting their hands on her body.

Seeing her at training, however, was not the most difficult part. It was her dreams. She had no idea of the bond that was connecting us to one another, so she had no idea that she was pushing her dreams into my own every night. I knew they weren’t my own, they were always from her point of view, and they started immediately after our first training when I had seen her hooded eyes after seeing Cassian and I demonstrate.

She made waking up extremely difficult, I never wanted to leave her dreams. Where I was confident and she wanted me openly. Especially hearing her call my name, feeling her skin beneath my fingers, the scent of her breaching my senses. She is so perfect, and I want her so badly. Although I struggle with letting her find this golden thread in her own time, I pray to the Mother that she never stops training. I only get to feel her when I sleep, but the temporary bliss is worth the disorientation when I wake up.

~

We had successfully gotten through another day of training, which had involved some one on on time with Y/N. I was teaching her new moves and sparring with her, but I noticed she was pulling her punches.

“Stop pulling your punches Y/N” I instructed. She scoffed and shook her head, but the next punch she threw was, again, pulled. I quickly grabbed both her wrists and pulled her swiftly into my space. She looked startled and placed her hands on my chest out of reflex. She was glaring into my eyes as I looked down at her, but I only smirked.

“If you want to kick my ass one day, I need you to put your strength into your swings.” Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she looked from eyes to my lips and back up to my eyes. We were standing entirely too close for what I would consider appropriate when I train the priestesses. But I couldn’t help it, Y/N is my beautiful mate and it was my instinct to want her body as close to mine as possible.

“Okay” she whispered, and the rest of training she heeded my advice. Although I wish she hadn’t, just so could correct her and breathe her in just a few more minutes.

~

I had already fallen asleep after doing some paperwork for Rhysand and having dinner with the Inner Circle, which had involved a lot of catching lingering stares and averted gazes from Y/N. I was in the beginning of her dream when one of my shadows began tugging at my hand to wake me up.

“What?” I whisper-yelled, upset that they had interrupted this time with Y/N. They continued to tug on my hand, dragging me out of my bed.

Theh brought me straight to Y/N’s door, urging me to step inside. I knew she was asleep because I had my (her) dream interrupted by my shadows. I twisted the door handle softly, being careful not to make too much noise. I quickly found her form on her bed, her hands gripping the sheets. The shadows continued to guide me until was I standing over her bed. I raised my eyebrow at them to ask why they brought me here but they just whispered “Yours.” But i understood more after Y/N called, “Azriel!”

My heart leaped into my throat and I immediately felt myself stiffen. I felt so wrong standing over her in her bedroom without her knowing, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away now that I was here. This woman really would be the death of my self control. As I was going through my moral dilemma, she gasped again “Az please,” lust evident in her voice. I reached my hand down and brushed my knuckles along her cheek, wanting to feel her skin. She lifted her chin as I ran my fingers along her jaw, entranced by her reaction. She whispered my name again, but I responded “Sweetheart” not exactly whispering. I could feel the timber in my voice as my own lust was consuming me. I could smell how aroused she was, and knew she wanted me, badly.

At the sound of my voice, her eyes barely fluttered open. She was not even half awake, she seemed to think she was still in her dream

She reached for my hand on her jaw, pulling me down to sit on the bed. Her pupils were so wide, almost black. I knew what she wanted and needed, but also knew she was still in her dreamland. She pulled my hand close to her mouth now that was sitting, using her fingers to bend mine so that my index and middle fingers were pointing out. She brought my fingers into her mouth and sucked them, her eyes drifting closed. I let out a sharp breath of air, watching her push my fingers to the back of her throat. I wasn’t sure what to do now, as she sucked, but she pulled my fingers out with a pop. She guided my hand down under her covers, and placed my hand over her pussy, her eyes still closed, as she whispered “Please Azriel.”

Although this seemed to be a bit of a gray area for us, Y/N being my mate (unknowingly), and her damn near asleep begging me to help her as she gripped my hand. But I just can’t help myself. With my other hand I lifted the covers and crawled in. I was already in my underwear having been woken up myself. I maneuvered myself so that I was completely under the covers, my shoulders slotted between her legs. I nudged her knees wide, so they would lie flat on the bed as she bared herself to me. She smelled so good, and she was already wearing no underwear, I had to lean forward and taste.

I ran a stripe up through her folds, already getting a tase of her wetness. She moaned loudly which only encouraged me. I began to circle her clit with my tongue when she shoved her hand into my hair. I started sucking, while entering my index finger into her pussy. I started moving in and out and she started rocking her hips into my mouth.

“Oh Az, I’m gonna cum” she moaned as she rocked her hips faster. I added another finger and started flicking my tongue faster. All I could do was moan back, vibrating her clit in my mouth.

Y/N pov

You came with a loud and crude moan, startling you out of the in between of your wet dream and real life. You had never cum so hard in all your life, but were shocked when you realized there was a head of hair gripped in your hand. You lifted the cover only to find your dream male (literally), eyes boring in yours, his chin glistening with the moonlight now hitting his face. You put your fingers under his chin, guiding him up to you. He followed, quickly settling his body over yours.

“Are you real?” You whispered. You didn’t know if this was real, it felt more real than any dream you had about him, and you were already previously dreaming.

“Yes, baby” he answered, looking to the side as if in shame. You brought his face back to yours, “why did you come here?”

“Because you called out to me” he breathed leaning his forehead on yours. You had never felt such intimacy, especially from someone you desired so desperately.

“How did you know?” You felt something glimmering in your chest, which you thought had something to do with an answer to that question.

“Y/N, your soul calls out to mine, your body calls out to mine, your desires call out to mine. Your dreams infiltrate my slumber Your thoughts fill my head. Your feelings have taken root in my heart” He searched your eyes frantically, looking for something. You felt your chest crack open, a golden thread weaving itself to male on top of you. You suddenly felt a wave of love, want, and need, all which didn’t belong to you. You gasped, eyes wide as you took in Azriel. You weaved your hand behind his head and brought his face down to yours, kissing him deeply. He kissed you hungrily, moving his lips against yours almost as competitively as you two played games. You didn’t want to fight for dominance, you were His and He was yours, equal in every way.

“Azriel” you gasped, tugging his hair back. He looked at you, seeming worried that he had crossed some line (that line has been crossed king).

“You’re my mate” you smiled so wide, tears springing from your eyes. He smiled down at you, relieved it was nothing bad. He nodded, kissing the tears that gathered on your face. You were filled with such joy, you and Azriel had always clicked so well, with undeniable chemistry. You trusted Him completely, he made you laugh, made you think, made you feel. You felt so blessed.

“How am I supposed to kick my mates ass in the ring for real?” You pushed his shoulder, and he let out a loud laugh, his face falling into your shoulder.

“I know other ways we can compete physically, but I’m not sure if there will be any losers” he winked and now it was your turn to laugh.

The end

[monowritestoomuch]

If I was the Lawyer for VA ASMR Universe characters:

Mono back at it again because I got bored lol. Pride event is being worked on but I had a crack idea and well—

Idk I just was thinking that this would be funny if I was the lawyer for these people and evaluated their crimes. Inspired by the Anime Lawyer tiktoks.

IF I WAS A LAWYER IN THE VA ASMR CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Part 1 I guess:

Me: Alright *cracks knuckles* Let’s start today!

Client One: Mr. Wood (Merfolk - Obsidian Lantern)

Me: Okay Mr. Wood, you’re being sued by. . . the Merfolk kingdom for the torture, assault and kidnapping of Merfolk citizens and you have several more charges for attempted murder of a merfolk child and homicide of a merfolk adult. 

Me: *slams portfolio shut* All I’m saying, in legal terms, you’re ✨screwed✨

Client 2: Lorenzo Family (City Wolf and Country Lamb - Nomads Tales and Audios)

Me: Okay. . . *flips through portfolio*

Me: Why are you here? Oh well that might be because of the criminal amounts of child negligence, severe emotional damages, the several attempted murders and kidnappings, or the plethora of other charges that are currently being written against you—

Me: Also, you are literally the mafia and have committed so many other violent crimes that I’m pretty sure is above my pay grade and clearance of this to discuss with you—

Me: And no, trying to justify “family legacy” will not hold up in the court of law.

Client 3: Nix (Meeting With A Divine - Siren’s Son ASMR)

Me: Okay Mr. *flips through binder* Nix, you are being sued for child support by the spouses of your copious amounts of children after you abandoned them. 

Me: I don’t know what to say as your lawyer besides the fact that I guarantee you cannot fight this—what do you mean you’ll try and seduce the judge—? No, now that would put you in contempt of court for the numerous severe ethical and legal violations—

Client 4: Kody (Water Elemental - Redacted Audio)

Me: Good evening Mr. Kody. *Flips though binder*

Me: You are being sued for magical misconduct and assault. It wasn’t assault and they consented and it’s being blown out of proportion? Uh huh, sure. Because according to this report, *points* it specifically states that the humanborn freelancer didn’t know what ‘bridging’ was, and that is known in the legal world as uninformed consent, meaning the consent is null and void and you sir are looking down the barrel of a good few months to a good few years in prison with restitution payments—

Client 5: Albus York (Bastards vs Zombies)

Me: finally—my final client of the day!

Me: OH COME ON—

[WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK]

Me: *sigh* Mr. York, are you aware that you have several warrants out for your arrest, theft/stolen property charges, kidnapping charges, murder charges and drunken disorderly conduct charges?

Me: Okay so the kidnapping charges are falsified you say? Do you have proof? Oh okay, let me see those files *fixes glasses and looks at papers before closing the file* Okay yeah we can get those charges dropped, probably. But about those murder charges—

[smol-warrior-1258]

I am absolutely lapping this discussion up bc ultimately we don't get to see much of what a nest environment even looks like in the books. When they all go to pick their dragons there do mostly seem to be divisions along species lines within the caves, but the fact remains that there are several species all effectively cohabitating regardless. Beyond that one scene though, I can't recall any other time we see dragons with their young - and certainly not ones still in their eggs - so all we really have is Toothless' sporadic commentary on the subject and a whole lot of delicious delicious headcanon!

The other important element is that by all evidence Toothless is quite identical to a Common-or-Garden and remains so until well past the age he'd still be relying on a parent for support, even if he was still living in the same nest with them. (Which brings up a whole other discussion on how dragon family structures work, if dragons mate for life/have monogamous relationships, and how vikings periodically stealing their young impacts that but we're here to talk about something else right now!) All the other dragons believe Toothless is Common-or-Garden (or equally plain) and even with the whole Toothless Daydream thing no one really thought he was anything special species-wise.

All that said, I think there are a few main ways to slot a Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus into a dragon nest and account for Toothless' statements/knowledge:

Eggs get left on the beach - I'm picturing like how sea turtles do it - and Common-or-Garden's assume it's one of their own and raise it communally in the nest with no questions. I'll grant that there might be debate over who's child in particular it is bc dragons are, as noted above, not stupid, but that wouldn't supercede the fact that it's 'clearly' a Common-or-Garden. This would also be supported if Prev is correct and Common-or-Garden dragons just are a communal species anyway.

Seadragons do the Fae child swap thing and dragons like Toothless are some sort of dragon equivalent to a changeling. With dragons being so selfish you'd think they'd just toss a false child, but I think OP is onto something with the retirement plan and I could totally see standard dragons developing something of a mythos around Seadragons. In that case you'd want to keep/raise your swapped kid in the hopes you'd have a powerful ally in the future (not to mention the clout - you know dragons love bragging).

Seadragon eggs (or possibly recently hatched young) are left on the beach and kinda just fend for themselves. Idk enough of the animal kingdom to know if there's a real-world equivalent that would make sense, but I'm basically imagining young Seadragons as sort of lone scavengers. Based on Toothless and The Wodensfang they are quite small - even scrawny - when they aren't in the prime of their life. I could see them being basically a nuisance to other dragons but not actually worth killing outright, and therefore able to eke out their survival and sort of exist in the edges of a nest community. Toothless is quite far from the main area of the caves when Hiccup finds him, and certainly much closer to danger that near to the enterance than the others.

Per Prev, all dragons leave their eggs in one fashion or another and don't directly engage with their development until after they've hatched, so for the first bit of any dragon's life they are just in a communal hodgepodge nest. In this case, you just have to assume all dragon adults don't distinguish based on specific parentage and instead solely on species (could be very fun considering all of Fireworm's boasting about lineage) which would allow Seadragons to blend in with the Common-or-Garden, or that dragon adults expect a great deal of independence from their young so the specific child doesn't need to really latch on to any one adult in the first place in order to survive in an interspecies nest.

Maybe dragons are dumb and eggs get swapped all the time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so who would notice one extra egg that no one remembers laying (kinda boring I know but you gotta get all the options on the table) you just raise the one(s) that look vaguely like you and move on with your life. Even if none of the adults explicitly adopted the Seadragon, that kind of environment would mitigate some of the dangers of just surviving alone.

It's a bit dark, but perhaps a Seadragon brood (litter?) is actually a dozen eggs but only 1 or 2 ever survive precisely bc they have to fend for themselves without a dedicated parent to raise them and to learn from and just have to make do with scraps of both from other dragons. We don't have a lot of info about how large the Seadragon population is/should be in the first place so it's definitely a possibility. We also know Seadragons will kill each other with relatively little provocation, so it isn't hard to imagine that might extend to their young as well.

Are Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus nest parasites?

Toothless talks about his mother teaching him things but never mentions that she is really huge. Teaching survival skills to a tiny infant is hard when you are orders of magnitude bigger. Are Seadragons common/garden mimics that switch an egg out for their own? Or do Seadragon babies provide some kind of benefit for raising them? (Like geriatric care, idk.) I kind of doubt a dragon could be "tricked" into believing the egg is their own, they're much more intelligent than say... warblers.

[wackywatchdotcom]

actually honestly yeah theres def some sort of rotation system my brain has for discussing tadc characters.... pomnis always in the middle of the circle but whatever character i am drawing a lot is is arranged nin a circle and i just loop thru them. that or its more like a spinning wheel and it randomly selecte a character every 1-3 days for me to draw a bunch and then draw someone else

[clives-archive]

I wish people wouldn't fight about this, but I guess that's fandom for you?

I mean, while I think there are differences in what Bob and Wanda did, even in terms of how much they were or weren't responsible for what happened, or how much they were aware of what they did, or if they would have been able to stop it, I don't understand why we would approach the whole situation as "do we have to forgive these guys?"

Like, they both messed up, they both hurt people, but we know in both cases that this isn't what they set out to do. They're both a victim of nobody really knowing how to deal with powers on a level as they have them, which also means, if they want to run away - which Wanda kind of did at the end of Wandavision - nobody can really stop them.

And I think this is a really interesting situation, actually - they both have to create guidelines for themselves, even when their mental health is acting up, or they're grieving or hurt. We have seen that they both try to remove themselves from the equation - Wanda by seemingly sacrificing herself, Bob by refusing to use his powers at all. I'm pretty sure neither of these situations will stick, and how they continue dealing with that, and with the people around them, is what's really interesting to me.

And to return to the actual topic, even though they had different roads to becoming who they now are, they are two sides of the same coin - two messed up people who went through a lot of trauma and had frightening amounts of power thrust upon them. And to try and create a sort of competition about who is the "better" person here really seems pretty reductive.

So Bob accidentally terrorized the largest city in the U.S, and we forgave him because he had a hard life, And Wanda did the same thing on a much smaller scale for the same reason. So we can forgive her too, right? Right?

[alistonjdrake]

I know a lot of writers that agree with me but it is a strange feeling to be surrounded by people irl who would probably cut me off or think I whole-heartedly endorse everything I write and I'm gonna be honest a boy is a little hurt.

Like when did we start to agree that art couldn't be messy? That all of our portrayals must be sanitized and neat so that no one misinterprets me or has to question what they think about something they've read? Why must I avoid subtly and be blunt when talking about a wrong thing so people know that I think it's wrong. Are you not bored? Is it not limiting? Shouldn't we just all read how-to pamphlets instead?

[ionlycareaboutyou]

i love when i see posts like “omg imagine [insert musical]…but with LESBIANS” and it’s something takarazuka has done, sometimes multiple times over. like there’s a whole world you people don’t know about….

[unproduciblesmackdown]

blade gunnblade !!!!!!!!

via eliza simpson:

There are no words for this true warrior. They kill me. MMM: went in for a post show hug. Me:"ow!" Asia: "oh sorry, that's my bullet necklace." 😳........ 😍

[fish-bowl-2]

okay lmao you don't have to answer them all but im interested in your hot takes when you have time

7, 8, 9, 13, 16, 19, 21, 22, 24

😁 we need something to talk about in this micro fandom

Oh boy oh boy...

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them? Honestly, a bit of a hard one for me to answer because I don't really have one. I mean, there are always going to be fandom interpretations I am not into, but even so I don't really let that influence how I feel about the actual characters. A lot of those fandom interpretations don't seem to be the overwhelming majority anymore either. I feel that if I was invested in the EEnE fandom back in 2013-2014 I would absolutely be tired of Kevin, but that isn't really the case anymore. As far as I can see lol.

8. Common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about? That all the Kanker sisters (excluding May) are irredeemable and will never break out of whatever cycle they are present to at home. I mean, I'm not asking for any neatly packaged happy ending when I say that, but idk, despite my issues with their lack of development and presentation on the show, I think they are really interesting. If you want to get deep, they are just kids after all, with a lot of room for change in their life going forward. I like to think that they ALL go onto better things. Better can be open to interpretation. I do not mean any kind of stereotypical college degree manicured lawn and job type stuff. Satisfaction can look like a multitude of things. A lot of people apply this to May, which is great! But does that have to mean pushing aside Marie and Lee in the process? I personally don't think that is very fair.

9. Worst part of canon? Harassment when it is girls towards boys = funny : / Also, this is more of a fandom thing, but there are so many youtube videos where ppl are titling them stuff like "Kanker sisters RAPE Eds" like wow so edgy and funny guys how about we keep this in 2009?

13. Worst blorbofication? Absolutely Edd. No argument. I don't think that this is an unpopular sentiment nowadays either. It has been discussed to earth and back at this point.

16. You can't understand why so many people like this thing: - That in high school/college Edd will make a complete 360 change in personality and become a complete bad-boy shadow the hedgehog recolor. Granted, I do think that Edd will grow to tone down his anxiety over following rules, BUT to completely change is out of the question. This is still Edd we're talking about. Rebelling for him would be something like jaywalking or wearing shoes inside someone's house he doesn't like. It nags me a bit when people completely ignore the defined quirks and personality of a character in favor of creating a whole new oc. You can of course be inspired by a character you like to create your own, but how about present them as that? - That Edd will start to drift away from Eddy and Ed as he grows older, or the other way around and Eddy and/or Ed drift away from Edd. I don't get how this head-canon keeps popping up. The WHOLE point of the show is their friendship and that they are blood brothers and meant for each other!!! This goes beyond their diverging interests and personalities!! The actual show proved this with the movie!! "But lots of people don't stay friends with the people they knew from childhood" umm and lots of people do? I am still closest with my middle school friends then any other people I've met in adulthood. My dad doesn't talk to anyone from university but still meets up with his childhood friends. And even so, I just don't understand the appeal. Their friendship kind of IS the whole show, and doing away with that ultimately defeats the purpose for me. I find it a lot more interesting to delve into aspects like how they would uphold these connections and friendships into adulthood, when work and responsibilities makes it a lot harder to get together regularly.

19. You're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like... Ngl I can't help feeling kind of shy about being super invested in a slapstick cartoon that came out nearly three decades ago. Even when I am talking to other cartoon/animation fans, I feel a bit silly about wanting to analyze their dynamics and traits when most people casually just remember the show as fun slapstick (of course it is but I also wanna get insane about it without being seen as MysteriousMrEnter or smth lmao).

21. Part of canon you think is overhyped? "What is under Double Dee's hat, guys?" "Why have they never confirmed what is under there?" "Any one else disappointed that they never showed Edd without his hat?" Umm idc lol

22. Your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores? - Probably the connection between Ed and Double Dee. I think it is really cute. I love how so many episodes kind of have them hanging out together. I don't think people acknowledge enough how their dynamic works. It is very Autism 2 Autism, like Edd gets to kind of info-dump about whatever to Ed, and even if Ed has no clue what he is talking about, he still enjoys the company and has fun in listening and partaking in whatever Edd is invested in. - I always really dig how Nazz is depicted kind of "cool" and "sporty". Idk it could have been very easy to make her just any kind of popular girl trope, but she kind of holds her own (even if she is super underdeveloped compared to the other characters). I think it makes her friendship with Kevin interesting. - On that note, I also really like Kevin and Rolf's dynamics in their friendship. I do actually see people discuss this a bunch, but I felt like I had to mention it. I really like how the typical American Apple Pie jock is besties with the foreigner with odd customs and both are kind of at an equal footing to each other. - Sarah is insanely strong, like almost on the same level as Ed. What is in that family's genes??

24. Topic that brings up the most rancid discourse? Shipping, probably. (When is it not shipping).

[unopenablebox]

yuletide discord server is really not succeeding at feeding me [social writing activity emotion that leads me to write] and i am instead wasting hours on [nonendorsed fic community server/archives] and it is making me irritable and also causing me to write using weird syntax as displayed here and i had like six hours to write my evil yuletide fic and didn't >:(

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

...O...OP should make a version of this with the wheelchair accessibility symbol and tag me and then it would be perfect for me to print out and put on my wall, *or buy, which was my initial first reaction to seeing this, but...

If I must be a weird gremlin then I will be the weird gremlin who puts the smile back on his face ...

(Which adds extra funny, considering my updated OC for hazbin/hellaverse in general is like an all green and pink Bride of Frankenstein Creature even though she hasn't been properly unveiled to you guys yet haha shh I'm a roll! 🤫💚🫶💖♿😈🌹✨

Anyway, she'll be commin' out the Cauldron when she comes, it's a whole process and I'm trying to be such a tight lipped, good girl about it, even though I'm sure no one will mind that I can't resist being a little tease! 🤭😉💖🌹✨)

EDIT: I think in all the hilarity I think I marvelously misunderstood just who was being called a "Weird Gremlin" here but it works either way I suppose...

*yes that was my second attempt at writing over the text because editing with tiny ass text for memes is hard okay? Lol ...🫶❤️🫂

*plus there's so many negative posts and attitudes out there about just not doing anything "weird" with Al ever that I initially thought it was the over way around that this was like a positivity post/shout out to the "Weird Gremlins" doing just that, lol ... 🤣 ❤️🙏

Monsters are not safe anymore

Repost if he is not safe in your account askjdhajksdha

[hugintheraven]

How Bethesda fixed Vampires without realizing it

So there's a LOT of takes on vampires across media, and most of them are radically different from each other. The Elder Scrolls series has an interesting version that I haven't seen anywhere else, that incidentally fixes a bunch of lore issues with vampires, and yet Bethesda hasn't ever really leaned into any of that.

So, the issue with vampires in large RPGs like Elder Scrolls games, D&D, etc, is that a world where various elements of character building are supposed to be balanced, vampires are heavy on the upside and light on meaningful drawbacks. So in Oblivion, Bethesda completely reworked their vampires, coming at it with a blank slate:

Vampirism is a 4-stage affliction, with each stage increasing the numerous benefits of being a vampire as well as the middling drawbacks. Stage 4 brings with it all humanoid NPCs recognizing you as a ravenous monster and attacking you, basically wrecking the game. And, this is the unique part, you reduce stages by drinking blood. Being a vampire is LESSENED by doing the most vampiric thing out there, it actively makes you weaker.

And this is great. From a gameplay perspective, you vanish below ground to kill zombies/robots/whatever, and you grow stronger as the dungeon goes on. But if you don't rush through it, or if it's large, you surface having ignored your hunger for several days and have to do a whole second quest to sneak into town at night and drink blood, where the only reward is to engage with the game again. It's a drawback in the gameplay sense rather than the stats sense. And it lets game designers throw the player against weak vampires in town early on, and face dungeons full of max-bloodlust monsters later once the player knows how things work.

Meanwhile, from a lore perspective this is also great. Suddenly, it's not that vampires have to be evil, it's that they have a choice. A good person who flees their family to hide in a cave is going to starve, turning into a ravenous, uncontrolled, extremely strong monster. Someone who's comfortable sneaking around town drinking blood, meanwhile? They never lose control. They walk in the sun. They're perfectly human. Or as human as anyone can be while the blood of their neighbors flows in their veins.

And Bethesda doesn't DO ANYTHING with this. People you talk to in-game just treat it as "all vampires are evil, why would you expect anything else", when they've created a world where vampire morality is so much more interesting. The few vampires who exist in civilization that you're not supposed to kill don't really discuss their condition at all. And there's plenty of evil vampires choosing to live in caves running societies of vampires, when that makes no sense compared to basically any other way of life they could set up.

Bethesda games are a masterful disaster, in this as in everything else.

[misswynters]

Ambessa/Sevika ignoring you in public, affectionate in private

warnings. suggestive, ambessa lowkey crushing you on the bed but who cares,

requested by @schlagglovr (everyone thank them <3)

ambessa medarda

Murmurs and laughter spread across the grand. A sea of sharp-dressed politicians and councilors, their voices filling the room. Ambessa Medarda was in her element, towering over most of the crowd. With her presence commanding attention without even trying. You, on the other hand, were left to hover at her side, your hand occasionally brushing against hers. So desperate for a small chance of acknowledgment. But as always, Ambessa's focus was razor-sharp. Her words spilling out in calculated precision as she discussed trade routes and alliances. It was as if you weren't even there. Like a ghost.

She didn't glance at you, not even once. It caused a sting in your heart as her disregard grew sharper with every passing second. You swallowed your frustration, telling yourself it wasn't personal. That you knew her well enough to understand this was her battlefield, her war to win, and her affection couldn't bleed through here. Still, it didn't stop the ache in your chest as her laughter rang out. It was so warm and inviting but it was directed at someone who wasn't you.

Countless hours passed by and by the time the last diplomat was shown out, your patience was wearing thin. You slipped into your shared quarters ahead of her, fuming silently. But when the door finally creaked open, there she was. Discarding her armor as her gaze locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. "Come here," she rumbled, her voice softer now, devoid of its earlier sharp edges.

You didn't hesitate, the fight draining out of you the moment her arms encircled your waist. Pulling you flush against her. "You ignored me all night," you muttered, your voice muffled against her chest.

"I know," she admitted, her lips brushing against your temple as she guided you to the bed. "I hate that I have to. However out there, I'm a general. Here.." Her hands tilted your chin up, her golden eyes meeting yours with a smoldering desire. "Here, I'm just yours."

She kissed you slowly with passion, her lips lingering as if to make up for every second of neglect. How much you missed her lips on yours.

Ambessa’s lips crushed against yours with an intensity that stole your breath, her hands large and possessive as they gripped your hips. The need between you was palpable, her every touch sparking something wild in you. With a low growl, she hoisted you effortlessly, your thighs wrapping tightly around her waist. The cold press of her armor against your skin was a stark contrast to the searing warmth of her body, and it only made you want her more.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” she rasped against your lips, her voice rough and dripping with hunger. Her teeth grazed your lower lip before she claimed your mouth again, deepening the kiss. She carried you toward the bed as if you weighed nothing, her presence utterly dominating.

“You’re the one doing this, Ambessa,” you breathed against her, your fingers tangling in her short hair, tugging hard enough to draw a soft groan from her. “I can feel how much you want me, right now.”

Her smirk was wicked, her lips finding the sensitive curve of your neck as her teeth scraped along your skin. “Oh, I don’t just want you,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. “I’m going to have you, all of you.”

Your back hit the mattress, and Ambessa didn’t hesitate to press you down, her powerful body pinning you beneath her. The weight of her, the sheer strength in the way she handled you, made your pulse race. She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as her voice dropped to a sinful whisper. “Tell me, do you enjoy driving me to madness? Watching me lose control over you like this?”

“You’re the one who’s in control,” you replied, your voice trembling as her hands roamed your thighs, her thumbs digging into your skin to pull you closer. “You always are. Isn’t that how you like it?”

Her chuckle was dark and full of promise as her lips moved to your collarbone, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there. “Careful now,” she said, her voice dripping with suggestion. “Keep talking like that, and I might not stop at just kissing you.”

“Who says I want you to stop?” you countered boldly, your hands sliding over her broad shoulders, pulling her closer. The challenge in your voice made her pause, her dark eyes locking onto yours with a heat that stole your breath.

“Bold little one,” she said, her tone edged with a mix of warning warning and desire. Her hand slid up your thigh, gripping it firmly as she pinned you even tighter against the bed. "You're making it very hard for me to stay patient."

"Please don't," you whispered, your lips brushing against hers in a teasing kiss.

Ambessa growled, before claiming your mouth again with a ferocity that made your head spin. As her hands roamed your body and her weight pressed you deeper into the mattress, the world outside her chambers melted away. Here, underneath her, you were hers. There was no place you'd rather be.

Her hands roamed your chest, strong and steady. When you tried to pull away to tease her again, she caught your lower lip between her teeth, stopping you in your tracks. "Stop with the teasing, darling," she murmured, her voice low. "Just let me show you how much little patience i have."

sevika

Smoky haze filled The Last Drop. It was as suffocating as it was intensifying, the crowd's cheers echoed through the bar as Sevika sat at her usual corner table. Her sharp eyes scanning the room. She was stoic as always, her posture a mix of casual confidence and barely restrained menace. You sat at her side, nursing your drink in silence. Silently hoping for even the smallest flicker of recognition from her. But she didn't look your way. Not once.

Instead, Sevika was all business. Barking orders to her lackeys and exchanging brief words with Silco's former enforcers. The air around her was heavy and her mechanical arm was gleaming under the dim light as she tapped her cigarette against the ashtray. It was like you didn't exist at all. While you knew this was her world and her job, it didn't make it hurt any less. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying not to let the frustration show on your face. Unfortunately you hid it horribly. Much to your distaste.

When the meeting finally ended, Sevika stood and stretched, her gaze finally landing on you. "Come on," she said gruffly, motioning for you to follow. You bit back the urge to snap at her, deciding instead to trail behind her as she led you through the winding corridors to her private quarters.

The second the door shut behind you, the shift in her demeanor was quick. "Alright," she said, her voice softer now, her lips quirking up into a half-smile. "Let me have it."

"Let you have it?" you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "You ignored me all night, Sev. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?"

She stepped closer, her warm hand curling around your wrist as she tugged you toward her. "Embarrassing, huh?" Her tone was teasing, but there was a glimmer of something genuine in her eyes as she leaned in towards you. Her breath warm against your cheek. "Didn't seem to bother you when you were sitting all pretty beside me."

"Don't start," you snapped, but your voice wavered as she closed the remaining distance between you. Her metal hand rising to trail a cold line down your arm. Her touch sent a shiver racing down your spine, and she knew it.

"You're cute when you're mad," she murmured, her voice dropping lower as her lips brushed the shell of your ear. "But I think you're forgetting something."

"And what's that?" you shot back, even as your breath hitched when her warm hand slid to your waist, pulling you against her.

"That you're mine," she growled, her lips crashing against yours before you could respond. The kiss was searing, her teeth grazing your bottom lip as her hands roamed your body. Her touch overwhelming as she backed you up against the wall. "I don't ignore you because I want to," she rasped, her lips trailing hot kisses along your jawline. "I ignored you because if I didn't, l'd drag you into my lap in front of everyone and let them know exactly who you belong to."

Your breath caught as her words sank in, her hands gripping your thighs to hoist you up against the wall. Instinctively you wrapped your legs around her waist, locking them together. "Sevika..." you whispered, your voice trembling as her mouth moved to your neck. Her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin below your jaw. “You're such a-"

"Say it," she demanded, her lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "Go on. Tell me how much you hate me right now."

You groaned, threading your fingers through her hair and tugging hard, earning a low growl from her. "I hate how good you are at this," you admitted, your words barely more than a breath as she bit down lightly, soothing the mark with her tongue.

Her laugh was low and dark, her breath fanning over your collarbone as she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. "You love how good I am at this," she corrected, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

"Maybe," you conceded, your voice softening as she set you down gently, her hands lingering on your hips.

"Definitely," she teased, brushing her lips against yours one more time before pulling away slightly, her forehead resting against yours. "Now, let me make up for tonight in a more proper manner."

taglist. @blckbny @ch-bl0gsss @b-lossm @fortluocha @ekkosh @limereance @wolfessa @themostlesbianever @simonapietra @1-800-fantasy @saikikittykusuo @sevikaishot @sugarplumz100 @chaostudi @wxwrites @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @robzo4 @puppyphia @xreadersarchive @boom58 @d3adbrainer @kylorey25 @slutmeoutfortoge @yaeil @sapphicarribean @randomperson291 @mvistl @hellokittyfeenie @literallyimthenerdemoji @nikaachuuuu @prettysupplicant @iamaboringrattat

[fishnapple]

You in their eyes, how do they see you?

(Future spouse/partner/lover)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

MAELSTROM

• Spirit animal: Turtle

You're a balanced combination of both soft, mysterious energy and firm, assertive energy. They can definitely see that you have mental compatibility with each other. Words flow between you effortlessly, conversations would take hours without anyone noticing time was flying by. They can talk about anything with you without fear of judgement and misunderstanding. You stimulate their mind, and when conflicts arise, you can discuss them logically with clarity without letting emotions take over you. This make problems solving between you and them easier, leaving less space for resentment and unresolved feelings.

You seem reserved and quiet in their eyes. Your display of emotions and affection is subtle and intuitive, a quiet devotion that embraces them every day without suffocating them. Though, sometimes, they would have difficulties in trying to decipher your deeper feelings, to understand you at your core, the part that you conceal from them.

But they admire your ability to embrace your inner child fully. They know that this didn't come naturally for you, there's a journey behind it, lessons and hardship you had to go through in order to protect and bring your inner child to the world, no matter how you're perceived. They love this courage, this fearless attitude when you have to face people's opinions, you don't let yourself be swayed by them. Sometimes, you can even be rebellious. But the funny thing is, the more you fight, the more rebellious you're, the more attractive you're in their eyes. And it's not like you go about it in an aggressive and confrontional method. You do you, unapologetically, like a child unaware of how seemingly "odd" their behaviour is in other's eyes. But they know you're not childish. Behind that oblivious attitude is a strong sense of self, a wise person, ruling their own inner kingdom with iron fists. Like a ballerina, their movements can be so graceful only because they've spent endless hours discipline themselves and practised.

Sometimes, they can think that you're being too engrossed in the pursuit of material achievements, like you're always in preparation mode for some disasters looming in the distant future. Greedy might be too strong of a word, but they can view you as materialistic or have a mindset of lack. They understand that material security is very important to you. You need to feel a strong foundation under your feet to feel safe. That can make you overwork yourself to the point of exhaustion, always looking for the next thing to do. But they can see you putting that same effort in making the relationship work, you care about them and are willing to take care of things to make their life easier. They will feel that you're always there when they need you, your presence is a constant that is very much needed in their life. They would feel empty, a part of them is missing when you're away.

SEA FOAM

• Spirit animal: Fish

They think you're their good karma (if you believe in the concept of karma) or a reward, a surprise given to them by some higher powers. I see the image of someone being ushered into someone's life. Both parties can be quite reluctant at first, but as fate has it, you and them need to be together. There's a heavy element of fatefulness in this connection, or so that's how they see it. You are destined to love each other, no matter how much both of you try to deny or run away from it.

I think you will be the one who does the running away in the beginning. You seem "hard to catch", like trying to catch a fish with their bare hands. You would fleet in and out of their life at first, they can't seem to figure you out. But your presence will be a pushing force in their life, pushing them into a different direction, to where they are afraid to tread but secretly wish to.

In their eyes, you can be a little immature or temperamental, acting on whims of the moment. This makes you exciting and unique but sometimes, also agitating and hard to pin down. It's like they're torn between the feeling of love and frustration for you. Their personality probably is more serious and intense than yours. They want to be in the deep water with their lover, but you seem to refuse to swim there with them. But they will always want to care for you, to protect you from the harsh world outside.

The way you talk and act just exudes a young and pure energy, as of someone who, just for the first time, allowed to go outside to explore. You might talk a lot (compare to them), you ask questions, sometimes funny one, sometimes philosophical one, sometimes silly one. They will like to indulge you, patiently answer each one of your questions, then sometimes they can get irritated and start to lecture you, to that, you will just ask more questions. You want to learn, to understand this world. Behind that seemingly busy bee mind is a yearning to explore, to be free and soaring. And even if they can't fly with you, they sure will gather all the winds to lift your wings, instead of trying to pull you down into their water (who's the fish here?).

Your habits might be a little more messy or undisciplined compared to this person. You seem confused lots of times and don't have a good grasp of how to navigate your daily life efficiently, yet miraculously, you still swim through life effortlessly, much to their amazement. You don't fret too much about the future, somehow always arrive at the desired destination on time, things just work out for you, as if you just need to focus on taking good care of yourself and be contented, the rest will be taken care of for you by some mysterious force. This contrasts sharply with their approach to life, always planning ahead, always wanting to control the outcome. This creates a complementary dynamic between you two. Where you need structure, they provide, where they need spontaneity, you provide. In the end, no matter how different you guys are, you just fit each other neatly, like puzzle pieces.

SANDSTORM

• Spirit animal: Swan

They just know that you're the perfect partner for them, the one they need to get married to or at least make a serious, long-term commitment. You just possess all the qualities they seek in a spouse, the thought of committing probably will appear in their mind early on. You have a natural ability to understand them, nurture and protect them, at the same time, be a reliable pillar of strength for them. You are serious in your commitment, never take feelings for granted, you date with marriage as end goal in mind. They also think you would make a good parent, someone with enough tenderness and discipline to raise children with good balance.

Your work might involve lots of travelling and communicating. They can see that these are prominent parts of your life, demanding a large chunk of your time. They think that you tend to overwork yourself, being too engrossed in working, you're always busy, I wonder if this also means that you don't spend enough time with them, they feel like they have to demand for your time, to take you away from whatever is bothering your mind. Security is very important to you, you need to feel abundant to feel safe, yet they think you hardly ever feel that way, hence the constant working. They will want to help you in this area, just like how you help them. You mirror each other, in energy, in intentions, both of you want to care for each other in the same way as the other person does.

They probably like to hear your voice, be it talking, singing, or making other sounds. It feels soothing and calming for them. What you say also brings a new perspective, widening their view about the world. They sometimes see you as a teacher, whom they should listen to and want to be guided by. You just move through life gracefully, always open to new adventure, but still leave space for contemplating deeper meanings about everything. Like a philosopher wandering through life, observing the world, and sharing wisdom with the people. You need to be constantly in motion, travelling, or just moving around, and they're happy to be your companion, though they might sometimes want to slow down and rest a little.

They think you have a lot to uncover. You hide a huge treasure of deep love inside, something too intense for you to confidently show to the world. They would be sad to see you lock your dreams away, and they are willing to help make your dreams come true, if you would just ask them to. Your inner child is also someone they want to get close to. You seem to be disconnected from your inner child. They can feel that you want to connect, but something in your psyche is scaring your inner child away, making them reluctant to join the "family". From the outside, this makes you look a little cold or unaffectionate, you're discreet with your love, only ever bring it out when you completely trust someone.  They would want to reach out their hands and pull your inner child closer, to give your inner child a hug.

DUSK

• Spirit animal: Phoenix

They think that you being in a relationship with them is be a big step away from your past wounds. Not that they want the credit for themselves, but as an admiration for you, for your strength. They can see that you had a great fear concerning relationship and commitment in general. Maybe you have been burnt in the past, childhood baggage, and the bad examples you saw around you made you wary of love. So choosing to be in a relationship with someone, being committed to that person, trusting that person enough to share yourself with them, all of these are really brave actions in their eyes. It shows that you don't let your past hold you back and define you, you rise above it and are willing to change, to choose happiness for yourself.  Sometimes, they would reminisce about the initial getting-to-know-each-other phase, how many obstacles they saw in your connection, and how hard it was for them to gain your trust and affection. They would even tease you for it.

Your life seems to be ridden with changes of direction. You're not meant to stay still in one place, both mentally and physically. Life will always present you some events to push you to move. You can't stay stagnant, if you think you're contented with the current situation, then sure enough, there would be an event, an opportunity appearing in front of you, making you reevaluate your current direction in life. So life with you definitely won't lack movements and changes. Another thing is, you also actively seek to restructure your life. From small hobbies to big life decisions, you can be pretty random and go with the flow. You would change the plan at the last minute, planning to turn left, then suddenly turn right because something caught your attention that made you change your mind. Or some mornings, you would suddenly announce that you will take up a new hobby, register for a dance class, learning new language etc. without prior warning.

Life with you would be busy, you always have something to do, a task to complete, a news to watch, a track to run, a book to read. It's like they can't never see you being still. Maybe that also made them feel like you were afraid of commitment when they first got to know you. They could feel that you're too busy for love. But of course, that's not true, being a busy bee is just who you are, and over time, they've gotten used to it and adapted to it well. That busy energy also shows itself in the way you talk. Maybe you talk a lot, very fast, always have something witty to say. They love your humour, your ability to look at yourself, and joke without being defensive. The way you express your ideas and emotions is clear and rational but not cold. You know when to offer the softest words of encouragement and when to debate with the sharpest points.

They think you like to beautify yourself, you like beautiful things but at the same time you seem to be reluctant to spend on yourself, almost like you're stingy with yourself. Even if you like something, you might rationalise and deny yourself that thing. You want to earn lots of money yet don't feel comfortable spending it, especially for yourself. They know this trait of yours, so they will try to guess your desire and get it for you. You're not stingy with them or everyone, though, you're likely to pour your resources into the people you love and the house you share with them. You might like to beautify the house instead. Which is where you would like to stay a lot. You can seem like a homebody to them (with all the busy work) but you will have to go out and make an appearance in the world and they know the world loves you.

SIERRA

• Spirit animal: Phoenix

If they were the wind, they would lift your wings up as much as they could. Your person sees so much potential in you, so many talents, yet you're limiting yourself with your fears. You have an enormous desire to learn and expand your mind. But you also fear going deeper. You might be the kind of person who learns various subjects simultaneously, has a good grasp of everything, but doesn't dig too deep into any particular subjects. Not because you're shallow or impatient, it's the opposite, you know that once you've engrossed yourself in something, you go all in, it would get to the core really fast, and this drains your time and energy so much, you're reluctant to dive in. You also know that there will be hidden things inside you that need to be uncovered if you were to go any deeper. But they think you have the strength to do this because they understand, deep down, you're much happier when you devote yourself to something.

And they know you devote yourself to them and the relationship. Once you're in a commitment, you take it seriously, you see your life as an entanglement with each other, not just one's own anymore. In a way, you're a team person, someone who has a talent for working with people. This makes being in a relationship with you so much easier. Because you're willing to cooperate and want to make a team effort to build the relationship strong, instead of demanding from a selfish stance.

But you're not a pushover or a people pleaser in their eyes. Your individuality shines intensely. You have no trouble being yourself, you can't help being yourself. Even if you wear normal clothing like everyone else, blending in quietly, you still somehow stand out to them. Like a visible halo around you is beckoning them. They admire your creative energy so much, if they're ever short of ideas, they can always turn to you to get some. If you want to pursue some creative endeavours, they would probably encourage and support you wholeheartedly. Because they believe in you.

They also love your playful side, which you only show to a few close ones, and only in a comfortable space. You appear much more serious in public than when you're with them in private. When you're home with them, you can be tender, childish but also very seductive, you show yourself fully to them. You can act silly, making jokes all the time with them, being competitive in games, or playing pranks on them. But all of those are saved for alone time together. Outside, to the world, you're more uptight, serious. People also respect you a lot, looking up to you like a teacher. What you say probably are well listened to by people. You appear as a wise, mature friend, whom people can come to for sound advice. Your person would sometimes chuckle quietly to themselves whenever they see you out in public or with acquaintances. Those people wouldn't imagine how you would act in private, imagine their reaction when they found out some of your silly jokes. They definitely think you have the world fooled.

RIVER

• Spirit animal: Lamb

You're a quiet presence that haunts their psyche in an inexplicable way. They sometimes can't understand why they're so drawn to you, they have that feeling in their heart, but they can't put it into word. If someone asks your person how they feel about you, they would stumble a bit and would take a long time to come up with a coherent answer. Don't mistake this for their lack of affection or commitment, they just haven't fully comprehended your effect on them. When they hear the question, in their mind, the image of you would be conjured up in so many different ways and different areas, it's like you're everywhere.

They admire your grace under pressure. Your quietness doesn't mean you're meek or naive. Your energy is pure and wise. The hardship you encountered in the past didn't turn you into a bitter and cold person. On the contrary, you developed compassion for other's suffering. Everyone has their own story and they deserve to tell them without shame. Each pain is traded with wisdom. They probably wish to learn a thing or two from your stoicism. You're here, in the present, you don't put your mind to needless worrying nor do you cling to the past.

You're the person they would always turn to when they need an advice, your words have a stabilising effect on them, you make them believe that everything will be okay in the end, that they're safe and sound. You might not talk a lot, superfluous information doesn't interest you, but each word holds values. You can talk about deep and taboo topics without judgement, fear or prejudice. Your person will also love your voice, it sounds tender and calming, though they may wish that you would talk more so that they can hear your voice more.

They do notice, when they've gotten closer to you, that you tend to hold in your anger, you don't want it to affect other people, but your person will worry that this can affect you negatively. You also hold your drive and ambitions close to your chest, refusing to disclose them to others. You work silently, diligently towards your goals. It's like you don't want to show anything too overt, your emotions, your struggle, your passion, they are kept simmering inside, while outwardly, you show a serene and placid disposition.

In love, you show a more relaxed energy to them, like a child finally out of the house after a heavy rain, enjoying the freshness and the earthy scent of everything. You can act a little more erratic with them than when you're with other people. Maybe they adore that side of you or more tolerate towards it. You can be unpredictable, not showing your cards fully. They sometimes have to guess how much you love them, how you feel about them. They can ask you for your opinion about other matters and receive practical and solid answers from you, but when the questions change to the topic of personal feelings and love, you can be elusive. This frustrates them greatly but also pull them to you greatly. You're like the muse and the poet at the same time. And they're your avid reader.

[drdemonprince]

have you defined the meaning of “white woman brain” anywhere and if not, can you? /gen

Many Black and brown feminist writers have discussed this phenomenon and I encourage you to seek out a lot of writing about this subject, because there are a variety of perspectives, but to distill it, white woman fragility brain is a phenomenon that is not exclusive to either white people or to women, but is especially common among those who can weaponize white womanhood, and it consists of the following qualities:

A view of oneself as a helpless victim that is constantly in threat of being attacked, especially by strangers (even though statistically, this is not the case).

A refusal to consider oneself as capable of doing harm to others, especially a lack of consideration toward others' body autonomy or consent. (even while being highly concerned about one's own autonomy and consent).

A generally passive or passive-aggressive orientation toward the world: seeing oneself as a romantic or sexual object to be approached, but never wanting to initiate (or feeling that one never can), never feeling comfortable directly communicating displeasure or one's desires, believing that others instead must guess at it. (and then resenting people when they don't, but never expressing it).

A tendency to cry, excessively berate oneself, complain about being made to feel "unsafe," or give up when criticized or challenged, especially when challenged by people of color.

A tendency to associate a person's body type with how much of a threat they are. For example, feeling unsafe around people with penises and expecting a social space to accommodate that fear to cater to you, a fear of people who come from cultures where it's common to speak loudly, a fear of those who are large, assertive, and/or darker-skinned.

Instinctive fawning-type responses to stress, and a pattern of feigning happiness, agreeability, and ease when one is not genuinely feeling it, and expecting all other people (but especially other women) to feign happiness as well, paired with a deep-seated resentment of anyone who violates this illusion and expresses any negativity (being especially punitive toward women of color).

Instinctively "smoothing over" conflict between other people before it even begins, even when healthy conflict is necessary and not at all your business-- often performed by gossiping behind other people's backs, triangulating information when it is not yours to share, asking people to alter their behavior in order to avoid a reaction from somebody else, presenting your concerns as if they were somebody else's ("what will people think!"), tone-policing the airing of grievances, derailing hard conversations with more light-hearted topics, and excluding people who are known to be candid and assertive.

Here are some articles on elements of the phenomenon and why it is so dangerous:

Now, I single white cis women out a lot when I am describing this phenomenon, because they have the most to gain from exhibiting these qualities, but make no mistake: this is a pattern that many types of people can and do use. I have seen white trans women use white women's tears to silence critique. I have witnessed women of color being passive-aggressively derailed and silenced by a Black manager who was in a position of institutional power over them. Multiple of the women who sexually harassed me in the story linked above were not white. And LORD knows I see plenty of t boys falling back on this shit, as well as cis men from wealthy backgrounds. It's a mindset that has deep colonial roots and we all must be on the look out for it in ourselves and others, and we must be vigilant in uprooting it.