#I'm incredibly self conscious about this whole thing ^^;

[omaano]

Wait, hold up, I have to hear more about Boba/Din Vampire AU 👀

“Teeth measuring contest” - is what I should have titled that wip XD

I am this close to talking myself out of 100% committing to this idea even though I spent the whole day cleaning up this sketch and turning it into something not horribly messy and out of the realm of proportion and human anatomy. But it's getting better and better, so I guess… I can indulge a little? Maybe? Maybe 6th time is the charm? 😳😳 (Credit where credit is due tho, I changed my mind on half the elements in this drawing because of @shortmage and their fics’ influence, because I’m a very weak person, and their vampire!Boba fic as well as this one is just too good!)

Also, the rarest of things happened and I’d actually typed up some of my messy thoughts from months back when I just started marinating on the idea of Mandalorian vampires, so I suppose I might as well share them under the cut

Mandalorians as vampires - makes sense for the emphasis of the traditionalists to always keep covered up (especially with the helmet and the chest plate because the head and torso are the important and vulnerable-ish parts for a vampire), to live in secrecy and hiding and possibly even underground. Plus, since it is a trait that can be passed on through a vampire bite the Mandalorian idea of adoption and “children are the future” mentality also checks out, since the vampiric bloodline has gotten diluted over time - hence what the New Mandalorians were, who had it easier to assimilate to the norm of the Republic, and what little vampiric traits they retained with time they could live with under their domes and in their environmentally controlled cities on Mandalore.

That would make Din a very traditionalist vampire (plus the continuous wear of his helmet probably built up and encourages quite the oral fixation on top of that), and as a Beroya he’d have to ensure that the whole covert has enough blood to sustain them (bounty hunting with more focus on the “or dead” part of the assignment). Meanwhile Boba would be also a vampire, but quite a bit loser with his feeding habits and morals (and he has more motivation to keep covered up because of the whole clone thing as opposed to the vampire thing). Jango (not just because he was a foundling, but due to the general diluting effect of /time/) was less of a “true” vampire (though vampire enough, his buir was mand’alor after all, that’s gotta count for something), but he had more than enough of it locked away in his genes for the kamionans to have an absolute field day in cherry picking what traits they found useful to keep in the clones (keep some traits for strength and durability, but turn on them the thrall (in a way) and put them on blood supplements to ensure that they remain under control).

Jedi are also vampires, they just went the early mutation route of the genes, and so they don’t subscribe to the “turning someone into a vampire” idea, but rather look for that innate vampire in future Jedi; which allows for the antagonism between Jedi sorcerers and Mandalorians. Jedi are those weirdos who figured out how to live on black pudding and blood orange and anything that has blood in its name and is red, and whatever life force is in the air - and worst of all they don’t even have the decency to just turn up and die on such a ridiculous diet. They are the equivalent of light eater weirdos, except they are also somehow right. That would make Sith those who's gone bonkers and just drain the life force of every unfortunate sucker in their way (that would kinda explain why inviting Maul into mandalorian business could have seemed like a good idea? Since he was closer to traditionalist mandalorian ideals than whatever the new mandalorians were subscribing to). The grey Jedi would probably then be the smart ones who figured out that blood banks exist. They are the smart cookies who don’t have to rein in their hunger through hours of meditation or whatever yet still get the benefits.

[fanfiction4sooya]

Oh that’s fine I completely understand. Could you possibly just write for g!p Mina x reader then

Hi sweetie, sorry for the late reply. But here you go! Hope you like it 💖💖

tw: g!p mina, face slapping, blowjobs, choking, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex, forced creampie, reader is a shit starter, etc;

You spend your whole day fuming, incredibly dumbfounded by the fact that Sana had cheated on you. The so sweet, so loving and caring Minatozaki Sana; Yeah, you weren't heartbroken as you should be, you felt just angrier by the second.

When you told Mina the whole story she immediately offered you a shoulder to lean on and of course, you accepted. Getting angry alone wasn't good for you, since you were a natural shit starter, a disaster seeker. She was friends with both Sana and you, but she was definitely on your side on this one.

"Hi baby" She greeted you, lifting two shopping bags full of booze. "I didn't know what you'd prefer so I bought one each" You hugged her, finally feeling at ease.

You were both sitting down on your living room, half a bottle of whiskey gone, along with a few beer cans. You were sat on the floor wearing only a long shirt and panties. It was Mina, you didn't have to be modest about anything, you were friends after all.

"Enough with my misery" You told her, she was sat on your couch, sipping her drink. "What's going on with you and your girl?" You chugged your beer, making a face.

"She broke up with me" She pouted, swirling her whiskey.

"That bitch!" You slammed your hand on her thigh, making her laugh. "But why though? I thought you two were getting along" She sighed.

"It's embarrassing..." She told you, kind of pouting. She was soft and shy, you loved that about her.

"Myoui Mina" You stared at her eyes. "I literally just told you in detail how my fiance cheated on me... Please" You kneeled, putting your hands together. "Please don't take any entertainment from me" She laughed, shaking her head. After a few seconds getting brave, she spoke again.

"She said I'm too soft" her cheeks got bright pink. 'What a baby girl...'

"Well, anyone that talks to you for like 10 minutes realizes that" You frowned, tilting your head a little. "She doesn't like your personality or...?"

"No, like..." She closed her eyes, trying to speak without sounding like an idiot. "She said I'm too soft in bed"

At first you didn't understand, maybe the booze had an effect on your information processing, but soon you understood what she meant. You laughed a little too loud for her liking, getting her to recoil.

"I shouldn't have told you" She covered her eyes, trying to disappear from the face of the earth. "Asshole!!" her ears were red as you tried hard to catch your breath.

"Okay, sorry, I'm sorry" You stopped laughing, taking a deep breath. "And why is that?" You genuinely asked. "She is like into bdsm and you're not? Because if it is, is totally cool. That life style is not for everyone" She stared into your eyes, realizing you were really serious.

"No, not that" She sat more to the edge of the couch, leaning towards you to speak. "She is not the first one to tell me that..." She scratched her nape. "Apparently I'm really soft with them, even if they ask me to be rough" You nodded.

"But why can't you be a little rough?"

"I'm scared of hurting them" She stated. "Look at my hand, it's big" She showed you her hand and you realized it was, in fact, big. "If she asks me to slap her face I get self conscious and freeze" You shook your head. What a little idiot. "And if she asks me to fuck her hard it's the same thing..." She looks down. "I'm not really small down there, you know?"

You bit your lip, gulping at that thought.

"If she asks you to hit her, it's because she can take it" You tell Mina.

"What if I lose control and do it too hard?" You roll your eyes.

"that's impossible, darling" You say.

"You don't know that" She frowns.

You smile, getting close to her legs and kneeling.

"I'll teach you how to do it, you little idiot" You take her hand and touches your own face with her palm, measuring it. "Here, the tip of your fingers have to touch under the eye, be careful so you won't hit her ear" You softly laughed, her hand warm and soft resting on your cheek. "Since you have big hands it's okay if you hit only with your fingers and not the palm, specially if she has a small face" She nodded. "Hit and stroke, okay?"

"You sure know a lot about that" Her cheeks got pink and you smiled up at her, still on your knees and between her legs.

"Do it, I wanna know if you got it right" You told her and she nodded. She lightly hit and you chuckled. "Mina, come on. Harder" You said.

"You were moving" She pouted and you bit your lip, taking her opposite hand to your neck.

"Hold it like this to the sides, avoid the middle of her neck" You placed her fingers in the right position. You took a deep breath, feeling something warm between your legs. You cleared your throat, trying to focus. "Don't cut her air circulation. Hold my neck and hit again" You told her and she took a deep breath.

She hit it again, but this time it was harder, the perfect amount of pressure on your neck. Without realizing, you whimpered, closing your eyes as her fingers made contact with your cheek. She stroked your face, her eyes getting darker and you were sure yours did the same.

"Again" You breathed out, your hands went to her thighs as reflex.

There was this small pause, this little delay in time as she observed your face, your expression. Her cock was hardening, tight inside her sweatpants as she thought about it for that second. Mina lift her hand striking hard, waking up from her drunken, horny induced haze.

"Oh my-" She tried to take her hand from your neck but you held it there. Your half lided eyes told her everything she needed to know.

You thought about Sana and how she would crumble the moment she knew about it; the drama, the hurt, everything. You were really a shit starter, drama seeker. 'Fuck it'

"let me teach you" You turned your head, kissing her palm. She visibly shivered, her pupils blown out. You squeezed your thighs together, your hand still on her thigh lightly caressing it, going up very close to her bulge.

"But Sana..." She hissed when you touched her over her pants, closing her eyes.

"She is not here" You pulled her in for a wet kiss, your tongue grazing her lips, sucking the bottom one. She whimpered and oh, it sounded so fucking good.

You worked on the knot of her pants as she kissed you, her tongue roaming inside your mouth made you moan, the mix between beer and whisky felt delicious.

Freeing her cock, you felt how heavy it was, the tip red and leaking pre cum. Looking into her eyes you licked it and she hissed, her hand flying to your hair, holding it.

"Shit..." She trembled, slightly bucking her hips into your mouth. It was really big, stuffing your cheeks as you sucked it, drooling all over it and making a mess on her pants.

Mina really didn't really know what to do, but that wasn't a problem. Not for you that liked to teach, after all. You lifted your face, kissing her again, moaning into her mouth as you jerked her off, the tips of your fingers didn't touch as you did so.

"You are so thick..." You moaned as she closed her eyes. "Don't be shy, pull my hair harder baby" And she immediately did as you told her, bravely spitting into your mouth, roughly kissing your lips. "Yes, don't hold back" You told her between kisses. "use me Mina, fuck me as hard as you can"

That seemingly had the effect you wanted as she pulled you up forcefully to straddle her on the couch, harshly biting your neck. You humped her hard cock and she tightened the grip on your arms, closing her eyes.

"Are you sure?" She asked, gulping.

"Don't hold back" You mouthed every word and she rolled her eyes, ripping your panties from your body. "Fuck" You yelped when she got up, bending your body down to the couch and spreading your legs.

That animalistic side of Mina was hot, completely different from the sweet Minari you knew. She spat onto your pussy, lining her cock onto your slit. You laughed provocatively and she slapped your ass hard, surprising you.

"You are such a pussy, Minari..." You felt her get unsure behind you so you had to provoke, wiggling your butt in front of her. "No wonder she broke up with you..."You tried to lift your face from the couch, but she pushed you down with one hand, pulling your hips flush against hers, fully entering you.

You both moaned, that raw feeling felt too much. She didn't wait for any adjustment, already fucking your hole and fully stretching you to her big cock.

"There you go..." She grunted hitting hard, her balls slapping against your clit made you mewl. It was hard and good, yes, but she could do better.

"Harder, baby..." You started back shotting, your hips meeting hers. She sank her fingernails on your hips, holding hard as she fucked harder, her hips losing a little bit of rhythm.

Now it felt good, her cock fully stretching you, your pussy raw and puffy from all the force. She rolled her eyes, shivering. Suddenly you stopped, pushing her off of you, changing your positions. Getting on your back on the couch you pulled her between your legs, sinking her cock back into your pussy; her eyes glued to where you were connected.

"Damn, you look so pretty" Mina said, her mouth agape.

You grabbed her hand, putting back on your neck like before.

"Do it, baby" You told her, shaking. So wet it trickled down to her balls, coating her dick as well.

She chocked you, slapping your face. Damn she was good at that.

"Tight..." She rolled her eyes, fucking you so hard you lost your breath. When she opened them, they were dark and cloudy, focused on not coming inside.

"Mina" You called, screaming. "I'm coming, fuck baby, keep doing that" You cooed, shaking. "f-finish inside baby, please"

She finally lost the mean demeanor, going back to the shy baby girl she was, her cheeks pink and her eyes doe and teary, still fucking you hard.

"Oh gosh" Was all she managed to say, still slapping her hips against your spread legs, cumming inside then all over your pussy when she tried to pull out. You held her in, trapping your legs behind her back as she groaned with her eyes closed, falling onto your body, blindly kissing your neck.

You couldn't believe you did that, nor that anyone would ever call Mina soft again after this class.

Of course she still had lessons to take but hey, you'd gladly teach her anything she wanted to know. You were her friend, after all.

[works-of-heart]

A little chat about my art

-wip of a fox Lucien Vanserra (I plan to do a fawn elain too)

Over the course of a week or so, I have been getting harassed by anons who accused me of using AI in my work, and not being a legitimate artist. Most have been very, VERY accusatory and nasty and I was tempted to make an angry post about it then, but instead I just ignored them, deleted their comments and went on with life.

Yesterday morning I woke up to the ask about AI, and while I was fed up with all these sudden asks, the person who asked me was at least kind.

I don't know where the accusations started, I thought it might have been antis, but if I'm real about it, I don't think too many are looking at my stuff, say for the few strays I had in the past. Only one negative, and one quite positive.

I do not know if people understand what kind of accusations like that makes of an artist, but it IS hurtful! If people start spreading lies, people will believe them and with enough people believing them, it starts to look like it's true.

I have NEVER used AI in ANY of my works. EVER.

All of my work has all been done digitally on my tablets, using CSP. I have been drawing digitally for over 20 years. It is fine if you do not like my work, it's totally ok if you think my anime style is ugly or childish, it's alright if you think I'm not a great artist. All of that is fine, I respect everyone's opinion.

What is NOT ok, is saying that I am stealing art. That I am a fake who uses AI and I'm stealing from legitimate artists who put work into it. I've worked for my art all my life, since I was a child, with the only aspiration to share the wonders of my mind with the world. These accusations, these hurtful things cut very deep.

I've been a fan of Acotar since 2020, and in love with Elucien ever since then. When I looked online, I found that most Elucien/Lucien art was buried under mountains of Elriel. There are some amazing artists for Elriel, truly beautiful, but they were eclipsing any that I saw for my ship. The ones I found of Elucien were beautiful! Stunning diamonds that would often get lost under the mountains of fan art for the other ships.

So when I made a blog that would be more focused on my love of Acotar and Elucien, I made a vow to fill the space with Elucien art!

That is all I ever wanted to do. Was to be in a space I can geek out with others who love the ship as much as I do, to make pieces that make everyone feel. I spent hours working on my elucien comics, just because I wanted to share these with you all, to give the feels. I am a comic creator myself, I've been working as one for almost 10 years now, it is my job. So pushing these out are works of love.

This was my mother's day picture. I had 3 separate folders for Elain, Lucien, and their daughter. I worked very, very hard on this picture to get it out by the day, in celebration for mother's day. My work is always a bit rough in the beginning stages, but I promise, I put all the work into it. I've studied from other artists I admire, to put it into my own style, something unique to me. A style that I've drawn since HS and was constantly mocked for, because it's too 'anime' too 'asian' and not western enough. Still, that doesn't matter as long as people enjoy it, and I love what I do.

An elucien wip of a picture that I never finished.

A picture of a Non-Acotar work I did

Some of my work never sees the light of day... because I'm so self conscious about my work, about my art in general. I never think it's good enough, and I struggle with trying to finish them because I want to only put out what I think is worthy of being shown. Sharing my art is so incredibly nerve-wracking for me, the fear of judgment, of never feeling it's good enough. I put my all into my work, my whole heart and soul into them, and though I know I need more practice, but I am trying.

Suffice to say, I've never used any form of AI in my art, I've never stolen anyone's work and claimed it as my own. I have referenced poses every now and then, and painting styles that I've studied, but never have I EVER cheated through any of these pictures.

Had someone had a real concern, coming to me and asking politely would be fine. Thank you to the anon yesterday who was truly kind and showing concern, but I don't know where this started from. If you are concerned a work may be illegitimate, you can always DM the artists and ask them kindly, I am sure they will no doubt be willing to prove their work if only to confirm they're real. Witch hunts where you just deem someone of using AI and spreading rumors and lies does MORE harm to the art community than you think. Artists are already hesitant about uploading their work for fear it will be stolen or used, but claiming they use AI with NO PROOF, and spreading misinformation is not only doing damage and making sure they'll never want to post again, but it impacts the community as a whole.

That being said, I am still going to draw and paint and post my artwork. I have no intention of backing down. I just hope as a community we can do better and be kinder to people who are spending their free time making things and sharing with us all. It's incredibly vulnerable to put yourself out there, and just remember, we are people behind these screens.

[novthewolf]

Hey! so i'm new to this, but I wanted to ask if I could request an Alice Cullen x Fem! reader? One where Alice has been friends with reader since the Cullens moved to Forks and reader finds out the Cullens are vampires on accident which leads to a confession and a small, cute kiss! :)

For sure couldn't foresee that !

Pairing : Alice Cullen x Fem!Reader

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : fluff, dead animal, blood, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +2,6k

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Let the sunshine... let the sunshine in...

This was the song that was blasting in your ears almost every day in your little rainy town. You lived there all your life, and you were almost sure you could bet how many sunny days would occur during the whole year. 'Cause your life here in Forks was this predictable.

The same roads, the same weather, the same days, the same people... Never anything you knew, no sign of new blood in sight. And in a quite ironic way, you were right about that.

A shy ray of sun is trying to shine through the clouds to reach you, in particular at the hospital. What would normally be an uneventful checkup turned out to be much more interesting.

Your mother was complaining about the waiting time, as usual, since Forks's medical staff was always vacant. You sat on top of the table, bored, when a doctor finally came in.

"Sorry for the wait, but don't worry, there's someone coming soon to help us!" She explained that she was obviously ecstatic and needed to share that information with every patient.

That's got your attention. "Someone ?" You inquired as she pressed the stethoscope to your chest, your cold-sensitive skin shivering.

"Oh yes, a very talented doctor is moving to Forks with his family." She smiled brightly, and you mirrored her smile, excited by the news. "We are extremely lucky."

You spent all the time waiting for those 'Cullens'; you kept wishing the doctor's kids wouldn't be toddlers but high schoolers like you. You were in your senior year, and you were so thrilled that you would finally get the chance to experience something new before going off to college.

Obviously, the whole town was bubbling with excitement, except for the reservation's kids, who, for some reason, you spotted less and less. Finally, the Cullens had arrived in Forks, and thankfully, they were indeed high schoolers. However, they were younger than you since they were only in the ninth grade.

Which you instantly thought was the dumbest lie ever. None of them looked like they were fifteen; they were far from that. They were so tall—well,  most of them—and their features were so defined that there was not a speck of childhood left on their faces.

It wasn't the only thing that intrigued you. Yes, you weren't repealed, just fascinated. They were all so pale, but again, so were you from the lack of sun. And the way they moved, how they acted... One especially caught all your attention.

You noticed her a week after she arrived. Alice was her name. You and your friends were making your way through the cafeteria when you felt... observed. As you rubbed the back of your neck, you turned around to watch the furthest table, near the windows.

Two big, seemingly golden eyes were staring right at you. Her hair was deep black, cut short, and messily pointing in every direction. She was incredibly thin, her beautiful white hands proving your thoughts as her chin rested gracefully on them. You blushed when you realized how sweet her smile was. It actually widened once you finally paid attention to her, her eyes sparkling.

She was so petite too—4'10 tops. You didn't even consider yourself a tall person, but compared to her, you almost felt too big. And so gawky, too. Alice was the definition of grace, like a fantasic little fairy. Self-conscious, you quickly averted your gaze and focused instead on the display of food.

With a deep breath, you reached to pick up a tangerine when you suddenly felt a presence right next to you.

"Hello !" A cheerful voice greeted you, earning you a loud gasp and dropping the fruit in the meantime. But Alice caught it mid-air and chuckled. "A pixie tangerine ?"

She handed it to you, and you meekly took it. "It's rich in vitamins." You murmured, not meeting her eyes. Your blush darkened when she laughed again.

"I guess you do need a good substitute for the sun, huh ?" She smiled at you reassuringly. You chuckled nervously, though tension was slowly leaving your body.

"Yeah, that's for sure." You chuckked and observed her some more and felt her energy, which was so refreshing. She was like a ray of the sun herself.

From that day on, you two spent all your time together.

Alice took you shopping at incredibly expensive boutiques, and though you kept insisting on going to thrift shops, she never listened to you. Sometimes she even offered to pay for you, and every time it nearly gave you a heart attack. Alice was dragged to insane parties, ones you could only dream of intending, and you always wondered how someone so young could already have such an active life.

You have so many memories with her, finding joy in what always felt so mondane. The times she stood in between your legs to do your makeup, so close but always using the excuse of bad eye sight when you knew she could spot a sparrow hidden in its tree. But you weren't one to complain, especially when you had the opportunity to stare at her face without looking creepy.

You noticed how much she loved to sing, despite singing way more than was necessary. So, you drove her into town, and you two spent nights singing your hearts out. God, was she physical too ! Always hugging you, interlacing her arm with yours, caressing your hair and cheeks, and holding your hand. And despite how many times it happens, you always end up a blushing mess.

Her siblings didn't seem that enthusiastic about it all. But over time, you slowly made your way through their minds and gained their affection. Especially Edward's, and it saddened you to see him so lonely, even if you couldn't grasp the whole truth.

Your friends—no,  actually, your whole class—were extremely curious about the Cullens, so you were their only source of information. But you cherished your relationship with her too much to share what you had with everyone.

Of course, you were catching feelings for her. How could you not? She was so lively, caring, interesting, and beautiful. And, in a way that made your chest swell with hope, you two never put a label on your relationship. Every time Alice introduced you to anyone, mostly her family, she never called you a 'friend'. No, something that made your heart miss a beat...

"Carlisle ! Here she is, the girl I've been telling you so much about !" Alice chirped and skipped toward her father while holding your hand. She dragged you in front of her, holding your shoulders. "My Y/N !" She smiled proudly.

You were so baffled by the very idea of meeting her parents, and your dear friend was really not helping. But the doctor didn't seem to mind and grinned.

"Hello, Y/N, it's nice to finally meet you and get your real name." He jocked, and you shot him a questioning look. "I just assumed 'angel' or 'little cutie wasn't your real name." He smirked but kept a caring expression.

You gasped loudly and turned absolutely crimson toward the black-haired. "No way, Alice!" You yelled and hid your face in your hands.

"Whaaat ? It's true!" She crooned at you lightheartedly, already walking away. You rushed after her and grabbed onto her worringly cold arm.

"That's not the problem, and you know it!" You mewled, embarrassed out of your mind.

You were so fond of that memory, hence why you were smiling like a moron. Catching feelings ? Yeah, right. You fell in love with her head first, which is what you did. But in spite of your heart, a feeling kept pulling at your gut, murmuring to you that something was off.

And it's true, you did notice some odd behaviors coming from her. Not too freaky, but still queer enough to catch your attention. Some days, where it was supposed to be a simple cloudy sky, Alice would be bringing you a large umbrella. So thanks to her, you were one of the few who stayed dry that day. Plus, she would tell you exactly what subject to study with uncanny precision. And how every time you had your period, she knew it before, even before yourself, and she was ready right away to pamper you into oblivion.

What about her impressive speed, her cold skin, her ever-changing eyes? But again, you were not used to a lot of things, so maybe it was just something she did.

You trusted her so much; surely if anything was truly wrong, you would have seen it coming, right ?

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One faithful day, well, one dumb day, you decided to follow Alice in her monthly walk through the forest. She never forbade you from coming; she just never mentioned it to you. How did you hear about it then? Well, you overheard your common teacher saying that even if the Cullens sometimes didn't come to school, they were still the best in the class.

You noticed it, of course, but hearing from someone else activated your curiosity, and you were dead set on finding out what the hell she was doing. Even if it sounded creepy, you wouldn't hide the fact that you had followed her a couple of times to the forest. But each and every damn time, you lost track of her! Always disappearing rapidly when you try your best to be as steathly as possible.

But you decided that today was going to be the day! And after agonizingly long hours of searching for her, holding your compass for dear life, you finally found her. But you sure didn't expect to find out that too...

The dense forest was illuminated by the soft glow of the spring sun. The rustle of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl filled the air as you cautiously made your way through the trees, calling out for Alice. As you ventured deeper into the woods, you noticed a faint flicker of movement ahead. You approached slowly, your heart pounding with anticipation and concern. What you saw next froze you in your tracks.

In a small clearing bathed in moonlight, Alice kneeled beside a fallen deer, her lips stained crimson as she lean over its neck. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched the short-haired girl drink deeply from the wound. You stood there, frozen in the middle of the forest, staring at your friend covered in blood.

You whispered, eyes wide with shock. "Alice..?"

Alice's head snapped up, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light as she turned to face you. You gulped and took an instinctive step back. Blood drips from her chin as she rises to her feet, a mixture of hunger and guilt swirling in her gaze.

"Y/N... I... I can explain." Just wait a minute." She pleaded before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

You staggered backward when you understood she was trying to control herself. Your mind was reeling with disbelief and fear, and you had to force yourself to stay still. The scene unfolding before you was too much for you to comprehend. Too reel, too sudden, and so, so gruesome. Yet it felt so incredibly ridiculous and surreal.

"Are  you..." You gulped loudly, trying to control your stammer. "You're... you're a vampire ?" Brows furrowed in disbelief at your own words. There was no way...

But, ultimately, Alice nodded slowly, her expression filled with anguish. She never saw you discovering a secret this way. But once again, you showed her how unpredictable you were. She had a general view of your future: meeting her, falling in love with her, and discovering her secret. But any details were robbed, and though it freaked her out, she still saw that in you, finding delight in the way you brought her something new. I like you, in a sense.

A broken cry passed your lips in utter dread, all colors leaving your face while your heart was ready to give. Your friend took a tentative step toward you, her hands outstretched in a gesture of supplication. You whimpered and moved slightly away, your eyes fixed on the blood coloring her lips.

Alice quickly noticed and pleaded once again, wiping the blood away with her sport cloth. "Please Y/N... I didn't want you to find out like this. I never wanted to hurt you."

You felt your fear begin to give way to a surge of conflicting emotions—disbelief, betrayal, and still that flicker of lingering affection. You took another step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you struggled to make sense of it all.

"But.... how long... what ?" You were babbling nonsense while your eyes were frantically looking anywhere but her. "Why didn't you tell me...?"

Alice lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping with the weight of her confession. She takes a deep breath, searching for your gaze once more, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to, but... well, I wasn't allowed to. I couldn't." She slowly got closer to you. "I was afraid of losing you... of scaring you away." Her puppy eyes felt different now, even if the red was softly fading away.

Silence hangs heavy between the two of you. You were grappling with the revelation, your mind racing with questions and doubts. Was that the reason she could never hang with you on those rare sunny days ? Why have you spent hours holding her hands in your own hands, trying to warm them up, to no avail? What about the most important thing ?

"Do you... well, do you plan to..." You couldn't finish your sentence; instead, you gestured loosely around your throat.

Alice was now a few feet away and shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. "No, no, never." She brushed the hair out of your face. "Though, you do smell very good."

You didn't know if you were supposed to blush or laugh your heart out, so you did both. The tension was softly fading away, the shivers shaking your body with them, despite the coldness of Alice's skin.

"How old are you then...?" You wondered in a whisper.

She grinned and rocked back and forth on her toes. "How old do you give me ?"

You chuckled and shook your head. "That's unfair.." Alice's hand rested gently on your cheek, and you couldn't lean into it. "Not fifteen, that's for sure."

Her lighthearted laugh filled the forest. "Indeed not." You couldn't help but observe her sparkly eyes and adorable cheekbones. And Alice gave back your loving gaze, which was stronger with time. "Let's just say I've been nineteen for a long time."

Self-conscience came gnawing at you once again, and you looked down. "I must have seen quite a lot of amazing people along the way."

This time, she craddled your face in her hands, tilting your head back up. "Yeah, but the one I was looking forward to meeting the most was you." Though you couldn't understand how true it was, to reduce the red on your cheeks.

The sun was coming out from behind the clouds and through the branches, delicately caressing Alice's pale skin. A soft gasp escaped your lips when you saw her skin glimmering like thousands of diamonds. Amused and softened by your reaction, she leaned and whispered only a few inches from your lips.

"And you are adorable." She didn't give you enough time to dismiss her statement, as she swiftly leaned in and placed a little peck on your lips. Your brain shorted out so much that it didn't even register the slight taste of iron.

"We can take it as slow as you want... After all, who knows what the future holds ?" She jested in a hused tone, her eyes squinting and a tender smile curling along the sides of her lips.

You chuckled and nuzzled at her hands. "As long as you don’t eat, I think it'll be okay." She laughed once again and kissed the tip of your nose.

With your little sunshine by your side, whatever the future had in stock, you were sure it would be bright.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

[crazyunsexycool]

A love as sweet as honey

Chapter 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4.1K

Warnings: Some fluff I guess, angst, Steve being 🙁, reader's family.

A/N: So here we go with chapter 1 for this series. So this is set three months after the semi ending of My little love so I'm keeping some aspects of that series that are mentioned in this chapter vague. We are going straight into Honey's family and they are the worst. I kind of wanted to show the difference in Steve and Honey's worlds. I really hope you like it. Also kind of nervous for this chapter...

If you're reading this or come across my series for the first time, I do recommend reading My Little Love first because characters from that series will play a big roll in this one.

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You glared at the messages popping up on your phone. It was bad enough that both Bruce and Tony forced you out of your lab in order for you to get some rest, now you had to evade your family. They had persistently called and messaged you about the weekly family dinners. The thing was you hated those gatherings. It was just your father, your two older brothers and their wives. Even though you were family you had nothing in common with them, so having to endure their company for an evening was dreadful. It wasn’t like they liked you anyway so you didn’t understand why your presence was required. You much preferred to be in your lab working on one project or another. Watching paint dry was preferable to Sunday night dinner with those snakes. 

“I hope you don’t glare at my messages like that.” Steve’s voice broke you out of your thoughts but you still scowled in his direction. He just chuckled in response.

Steve looked so handsome as he made his way towards you. His golden blond hair was slightly disheveled and his workout clothes fit him perfectly. You’d never let on that you were attracted to him. It still baffles you that he willingly hangs out with you even when you don’t make it easy to be your friend. Although it’s mostly during work hours, which is almost always, or the few parties you’d been dragged to. His presence is soothing and it bothers you that he can ease you out of your bad moods without much resistance.

“Depends on what you messaged me about.” You watched as he took a seat on the bench next to you. “Did the science bros send you?” 

“Science bros?”

“Yeah, Stark and Banner. They kicked me out of my lab. Said I needed to rest.” 

“Can you blame them? Especially after that whole issue with Lottie forcing half the medbay staff to come to your aid because she saw you unconscious in a vision?”

“I just fell asleep.” You grumbled as you turned to watch other employees go about their day. Thinking back on it, the situation was now slightly funny. Although poor Charlotte was incredibly worried about you. 

“Yeah well, everyone needs to rest.” 

You give Steve a sideways glance and frown. “Remember this conversation when you go on back to back missions.” 

Steve gives you a lopsided grin. It made you swoon which forced you to be very self conscious of your staring.

“What are you still doing here anyway?” 

“I’m resting.” 

Steve bent forward and turned his head to get a better look at you when you turned away from him. His eyes squinted in suspicion but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. It was overwhelming to have all of his attention sometimes. To have anyone’s attention on you at all made you uncomfortable but to have Steve was something else. He always managed to make you feel something other than annoyed. You were baffled by how easily he did that. 

“Stop staring you weirdo.” You mumbled. Steve chuckles but doesn’t take his eyes off you. 

“You don’t really believe you’ll get away with trying to go back up to your lab when you didn’t go home to rest, do you?” 

You sigh and your shoulders slump. Steve’s eyes drift down to your pouting lips and for a second he thinks he could kiss that pout away. That’s how it had been since he met you. The attraction was almost immediate and you seemed to always have a pout on those pretty lips of yours.

“I’m just so tired. I don’t want to drive.” 

“I could take you if you’d like.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.” 

“I’m offering. But if you don’t like that then you should really reconsider taking one of the empty apartments.” 

He’s right. Some of the apartments have been empty for a while and one had even been offered to you. You just weren’t sure how you felt about living in the compound. 

“Just imagine, you maybe can’t sleep and you get an idea. You don't have to wait until the next day to come in. All you have to do is walk across the building and you’re at work.” Steve offers. 

“Enticing but also I like to separate my personal life from my work life.” 

Steve shrugs and gets up. “Still, think about it. I have to go but text me when you get home so that I know you’re safe.” 

“You care too much.” 

“Can’t blame a guy for caring for his friends.” He says before starting to walk away.

“Wait, we’re friends? I didn’t agree to that.” You joke. 

Steve turns around and walks backwards and raises an eyebrow in your direction. You give a small smile in return. 

“Go home.” 

You roll your eyes in response before he waves and walks away to do whatever it is he did. With a sigh you get up and head to your car. There was no way you’d even be able to get into your office so you actually went home. 

Steve had an open invitation into the Barnes home. He was there all the time. His best friends’ home had warmth and laughter and love. It was all of the things he craved. 

When he was first woken up from the ice and realized that he was no longer in the 1940s, Steve decided that the man that wanted a family and love died the day the plane went down. Instead he found solace in fighting alongside the Avengers and his friendships. He was closest to Mrs. Barnes or how he affectionately called her, Magnet. They’d been working side by side since he’d moved to D.C. their friendship bloomed and now they were more like siblings.

 The only thing Steve envied was his best friends’ relationship. From his point of view they had everything, all more than well deserved of course. He was more than happy that after being tortured and used by Hydra, Bucky was able to find happiness even when he found out he had children. Steve wanted that. He wanted his kids to grow up with the Barnes kids and that they be best friends the way he and Bucky were growing up. He never voiced it of course but Mrs. B could read him like a book. So when he walked into the always busy house he knew he’d be asked something.

“What’s wrong?” Mrs. B asked the minute she looked up at him. She was rocking the youngest Barnes in her arms. The newest addition to the family and only three months old.

“Nothings wrong.” 

“Steve-“ 

“Steebie.” Charlotte ran out from the playroom down the hall and straight into Steve’s arms. 

“Here’s my best girl.” Steve soaked up all of the love Bucky’s daughter gave him. “How are you sweetheart?” 

“I’m good. Do you wanna play tea pawty?” 

“I would love to. I’ll be there in a minute, ok?” Steve sets Charlotte on the floor and she runs back as she yells that she’ll get the party ready. 

“Steve? Are you sure you’re ok?” 

“I’m fine Magnet.” 

She gives him a sympathetic look. Steve knew that she knew what he was feeling. They’d have long conversations about the thoughts of having families and falling in love. Those conversations seemed so long ago. They were both different people now. Still at its core their friendship remains the same, just like with Bucky. 

“Saw you talking to Y/N earlier.” Bucky says as he walks in from the door that leads to the garage. “You have to ask her out.” 

“Why would I ask her out?”

Steve’s best friends look at each other as if they knew some big secret. Well they did although it wasn’t a secret but something Steve was refusing to acknowledge. 

“Because you like her.” Mrs. B says.

“It’s so obvious that you do.” 

“She’s a friend.” Steve defends himself. 

“I used to look at Sugar that way. Still do.” 

“Aaww baby. That’s so cute.” 

Bucky sends a wink in his wife’s direction. It was so cute it made Steve sick sometimes. Again he was happy for them but he wanted that too. Steve was ashamed of the envy he felt sometimes.

“That would be like me asking you out, Magnet.” 

“Eeww.” She scrunched her face and Steve was taken aback by the instant reaction. Then she laughed. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just I see you as family so the thought of dating you is weird.” 

“Exactly my point. Asking her out would be like that for me.” 

Bucky looked at Steve with disbelief. “I know you’re stubborn but this is a whole different level.” 

“Give him a break baby. It’s not like you asked me out when you realized you liked me.” 

Bucky had sat down by his wife and took their youngest child in his arms. He smiled and cooed at his baby before looking up at Steve. 

“Just think about it and once you admit that you like her, ask her out.” Bucky said and Mrs. B nodded in agreement. 

“Steebie, tea pawty is weady.” 

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a very important tea party to attend.” 

“Are you staying for dinner?” His best friend asked over her shoulder. 

“If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“Never.” 

**** 

Lottie poured nonexistent tea into Steve’s plastic teacup. She had immediately draped him with fake jewelry, clip on earrings and placed a plastic crown on his head. Steve then sat on the floor at the table the kids had in their playroom. Henry had been playing with legos in the corner and started giggling at the sight before him. He stopped laughing when a plastic tiara was placed on his head and he had to sit at the table too. Across from Henry sat a Lottie’s beloved pink teddy bear.

“So then the ogre tries to stomp on all of the King’s knights.” Steve was telling the kids about the last mission he’d been on. He made it seem like a fairytale though and the kids were hooked. 

“Oh no.” Lottie whispered. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart. The king’s knights were ready and they had a dragon.”

“What? No way.” Henry exclaimed, hanging on every word. 

“Yes way. The dragon came down from the sky and with his magic powers and BOOM! The ogre didn’t stand a chance.” 

Lottie has a hand on her chest while pretending to sip tea. Henry resting his head on his hand while waiting for Steve to continue. 

“All of the other knights joined the dragon in fighting the ogre’s henchmen. When they finally finished they got the treasure and that treasure helped a lot of village people.” Steve finishes. 

“I wanna be a dragon when I grow up so that I can help people.” 

“Yeah me too.” Lottie agrees with her brother. 

“Dinner’s ready.” 

“Alright, you heard your mom let’s go wash up.” Steve says as he gets up and starts taking all of the accessories off.

“Steebie will you sit with me?” 

“Of course I will, sweetheart.” Steve grabs Lottie and throws her over his shoulder before he reaches for Henry and does the same. They’re both laughing and kicking. “But first we wash our hands.” 

Steve can’t help but smile. The ache that sits heavy in his chest from wanting this life dulls while he sits amongst his friends. Their conversation distracts him from the loneliness he’ll find once he goes back to his apartment.

You’d gone straight to bed once you’d made it home. There was nothing else for you to really do so taking a nap seemed the best option. You’d taken off everything but your panties and plopped down right in the middle of the bed. Tony and Bruce had been right. You did need to sleep, you’d never admit it to them though. Just as you were drifting off to dreamland, obnoxious knocking pulled you away. You grabbed the robe that had been hanging over unpacked boxes and put it on, tying it while walking to your door. 

You’d never bothered unpacking because you move so much. So you zigzagged through all of the boxes holding your personal things in order to get to the front door. Before opening the door you looked through the peephole and froze at the sight of who was at the other side. But that feeling of dread turned into anger as you yanked the door open, startling the three women on the other side. 

“What?” You snapped, your tone harsh and unwelcoming. 

The last thing you were expecting was to see your stepmother and sisters-in-law at your apartment. Especially since you never gave them your address. Your stepmother being front and center schooled her expression first. 

“Now is that anyway to answer the door? I’ve taught you better than that.” She admonishes. 

Rose came into your life when you were a baby. She’s the only maternal figure you���d ever known. You hated her. She was your father’s lapdog and a snitch. The moment you were able to leave his house you did. You tried to be around them as little as possible. Somehow they always managed to drag you back in.

You sisters-in-law were no better. Elizabeth was married to your older brother Richard. Alice was married to your younger brother Charles. They were the picture perfect family. The men ran the family and the women well, they did as they were told. They were the perfect stepford wives and then there was you. 

In their eyes you were the rebellious middle child. The one who they said couldn’t just sit down and do as you were told. You just had to question everything and fight back. It didn’t matter that at 18 you left your father’s home and never lived there again. He wanted to control you because he had an image to maintain. And if he had someone track you down that meant he needed something.

“Well aren’t you going to invite us in?” Rose asked as she tried to look over your shoulder. The only thing she could see was the hallway.

“No. Because I didn’t invite you. As a matter of fact I never even gave any of you my address so I don’t know why you’re here.” 

“We’ve called and texted you multiple times and you haven’t answered..” Alice said. “We were worried.”

“No you weren’t. Besides I have nothing to say to any of you. If I wanted to have any sort of relationship with you I’d answer. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Y/N please, we are only doing what’s best for our family and that’s keeping everyone together.” Elizabeth adds. 

You roll your eyes. 

“So what does Conrad want now?” 

“Your father,” Rose says. “Would very much love it if you joined us for dinner tonight.” 

“I don’t give two shits about what he would love. Who is he trying to impress?” 

Rose huffs, annoyance creeping into her normally well composed face. You loved riling her up. 

“It’s not about who he’s trying to impress, we haven’t seen you in a while. We’d like to catch up.” 

“And we would be catching up in whose presence?” You push for information. 

“A possible investor in his business.” 

“Mmm.” You nod slowly. 

“So you’ll come?” 

“Nope.” 

“I wasn’t giving you a choice. We’ll stand out here until you’re ready.” 

“I’ll call the cops on you if you don’t leave.” 

You saw the flash of red hot anger flash in Rose’s dark brown eyes. She placed her hand on the door and leaned in to be as close to your face as possible. 

“Remember what happened the last time you tried that.” The threat was there and it all but crumbled the bit of resistance you had against them. 

You blinked back tears as memories rushed to the forefront of your mind. Suddenly you weren’t the person you’d worked so hard to become, you were the little girl that had been neglected her whole life. And that little girl did as she was told if she knew what was good for her. 

“I’ll give you thirty minutes. We’ll wait out here.” Rose had straightened her posture and fell back into the loving wife and mother character she’d perfectly crafted.

You sat quietly in the dining room of the family home. Conrad Bramford, your father, sat at the head of the table. Rose was to his right, your older brother and his wife to his left. That left Charles your younger brother sitting next to his mother and his wife next to you. At the other end of the table, and closest to you, was the investor your father was trying to impress Ezekiel Stane.

“I’m so glad you decided to come.” Alice leaned in and whispered. 

“I didn’t decide, I was forced too. Why do you even give a shit?” 

Alice patted your forearm and smiled as if you were the best of friends and were up to no good. 

“You’re so bad.” She giggled. 

It dawned on you that she really thought you were friends or worse that you were like those families where the in-laws saw each other as actual siblings. 

“Oh you sweet summer’s child.” You murmured. 

“Come on, these dinners aren’t so bad. I mean we’re your family. It’s nice that we get to spend time together.”

“Alice, I’m going to be very clear because you seem like a nice person. I hate every single person sitting at this table.” 

Her smile drops just a little. “But you don’t know me or Elizabeth.” She mumbles. “You should give us a chance.” 

“You’re married to my brother, that’s all I need to know. Besides you've only been married what, a few months?” 

She nods.

“Maybe we can get together on your wedding anniversary and you can tell me how much you still love this family.” You give her a tight lipped smile. 

“Well on our anniversary we’ll be celebrating but I’ll still accept that invitation to talk.” Alice smiles again. 

“So Ms. Bramford. I heard that you work in the science field. How is that working out for you?” Ezekiel asked, pulling your attention away from Alice.

He was handsome with blue eyes and chestnut colored hair. He was tall, fit but not too muscular. 

“It’s great. I really love what I do.” 

“Which is?” 

“Research.” 

Ezekiel put on his most charming smile but it felt off putting. Although him willingly spending time with your father should have been the first sign that he wasn’t a great person. 

“What kind of research?” He asks.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss.” 

“Because she isn’t important enough to know.” Charles said, getting a laugh out of everyone at the table, except for you, Mr. Stane and surprisingly, Alice. She just gave you an apologetic look.

“Forgive us Mr. Stane, it’s just an inside joke.” Richard, your older brother, says with a chuckle. 

“Last time I checked a joke is supposed to be funny. Also might I remind you that I work outside of our father’s company so that I can have my independence. Tell me Dick, what is it that you do?” You stare at him expectantly. “Oh that’s right, you’re too busy kissing his ass to actually have a job.” 

There were gasps all around the table as you stood suddenly. The chair you had been sitting in, scraping along the floor before falling over. 

“Sit back down and apologize, you ungrateful brat.” Your father slammed a fist down on the table causing the plates, glasses and cutlery to clatter together.

“I won’t apologize, I don't want to be here in the first place. I‘ll be leaving now. Let’s do this again, never.” You say and start heading toward the living room where your purse was.

You fiddled with your pearl necklace as you raced through the hallway. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. 

“Well I don’t remember seeing anyone as pretty as you in a long time.” The deep voice froze you in place just as you reached the living room. 

You turn around to find Rose’s brother at the drink cart. His eyes rake your body and you shudder. You turn and grab your belongings and quickly turn towards the door.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving so soon? I was hoping we could catch up. You can tell me where you’ve been hiding.”

“Eat dirt and die, asshole.” You say before exiting into the hallway. 

You’d made it to the door just as your father stepped into the hallway. He called your name and a few other choice words but you were already running down the steps towards your car. You managed to lock yourself in and speed away to be as far from this place as possible before he could get to you.

Your phone had been buzzing nonstop from everyone in your family trying to call or text you. It got to the point that you had to shut it off because it was too much. When you finally make it home you take a shower to hopefully rid yourself of the crawling sensation you get from being back at the family home. 

After a lot of pacing and debating you send an email to Tony and wait. It takes about a minute but you get an answer. Even though it was around three in the morning. Now you can breathe slightly easier but your whole body is thrumming with adrenaline and now it is slowly starting to calm down but your hands are shaking. You would spend the rest of the night going over everything that happened that day until you finally passed out.

Steve had checked his phone a ridiculous amount of times. He even got teased for it by his best friends. But he was genuinely worried because he never received a text from you. He was restless wondering if he should reach out to you or not. Reluctantly he opted for the latter as he opened the door to his apartment where he was met with movers. They were taking things into the apartment across from his which belonged to Bucky when he first moved into the compound. He’d forgotten that someone was moving in and that he’d finally have a neighbor again. 

“Hey Rogers.” You said quietly as you made your way from down the hallway where the elevators were. 

“Hey Y/L/N. What are you doing here so early? And in the residential area. I thought you hated this part of the compound.” 

Steve was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest. 

“I used to but considering this is my new place, I thought I’d have to get used to it.” 

Steve’s face lit up at the new piece of information. He even stands up straight and watches as the movers take in a few more mixes in. 

“So you’re the one Tony told me was moving in a few weeks ago.” 

You shake your head. “No, I asked him last night if the offer was still good and he said yes. Although I feel bad that the person taking this spot is being moved. I think he said it was Sharon? She was supposed to move here but she’s still out of the country for a few weeks and this apartment is ready so he let me have it.” You look up at him and then at the apartment you’d be living in. 

“Wait so this was a last minute decision but you had your things packed already?” 

“Well I was going to be moving closer to the compound anyway. I just decided that I would prefer my apartment to have security guards at the entrance.” 

Steve’s eyes narrowed at that. “Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?” 

You saw the muscle in his jaw tick. 

“It’s a long story and I’d rather not talk about it.” You moved toward the door of your new apartment.

“Wait, if someone did something to you I’ll help you. They shouldn’t get away with whatever they did.” 

You look at him thoughtfully for a moment. “I wish I would have met you a long time ago, Rogers. Maybe you could have saved me then.” You gave him a sad smile. “I’m gonna get settled but maybe we should have a movie night or something soon. We can even do it at my place since you know where I live now.” 

Steve smiles but you could still see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’ll let you go, Steve.” 

“I’m here for whatever you need, ok?” 

“Thanks, I’ll see you later?” 

“Absolutely, neighbor.” Steve grins. 

“Ugh, don’t make me regret it.” 

“It’ll be the best choice you ever made.” He says confidently. 

Truer words have never been spoken. You just didn’t know it yet.

Ch. 2

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[suzukiblu]

Day thirty of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU. And yes I DID win NaNoWriMo, thank you for asking. ❤ This is the last day of NaNo, obviously, so I'm gonna take a little bit of a break from this fic due to being just sliiiiightly burned out from writing 1k+ a day in it for the past month and all, but I intend to start editing it and posting chapters of it on AO3 in the next week or two, so it'll be both easily bookmark/subscribe-able and updating on there soon!

They go through all the boxes, Tim suffers a bit for it, and Kon laughs and makes him suffer more, the bastard. It’s fun, though, even if now Tim would really prefer to never stick his hand in another box ever again in his life. 

The last box Kon directs him to is full of layers of distinctly cashmere-esque fabrics, and Kon smiles a little and ducks his head again. Tim is disgruntled, but charmed. 

They wander through the exhibits, and Tim feels pretty good about his activity-picking when he realizes Kon’s stopping to look at all of them and actually seems interested in all of them. They have to circle back a couple of times so Kon isn’t doing anything too super-powered in front of other guests, but they do hit all of them. Some of them are more interesting than others, in Tim’s opinion, but Kon still tries them all. Tim wouldn’t complain even if he were bored out of his mind, though, given how invested Kon gets in sorting and mixing the tables full of colored glass beads and making waves and whirlpools in the water fixtures and manipulating the kaleidoscopes and chimes and everything else. 

Kon spends the least amount of time with the auditory and olfactory stations, though he’s happy to try all the little hors d'oeuvres that Tim assumes are supposed to be covering “taste” for the exhibit. Visual he seems generally curious about, but definitely tactile wins. Like–far and away, does tactile win. They spend twice as much time at the tactile stations Kon is least interested in as they do any two of the others. Tim doesn’t mention it in case it’s not on purpose. He still doesn’t want to make Kon feel self-conscious or anything. 

Anyway, the tactile parts of the exhibit were the whole reason he picked this as a date activity, so what, is he going to be bothered by having made the correct deduction or assumption or whatever? Not freaking likely. Actually if anything he’s going to need to privately gloat to himself about this later. Bask in it a bit. 

Also take some notes for future dates and things to buy Kon and whatever else. 

More cashmere, to start. A lot more. 

Tim sneaks a few more pictures of Kon as they walk from station to station. Kon laughs at him every time he catches him and takes one of him too, which is incredibly flustering. Tim cons him into a few selfies in self-defense, which turns out to be a terrible idea because it still involves him ending up in pictures and, worse, involves him ending up in pictures with Kon, who takes the excuse to press in close and kiss his cheek and just be all kinds of appallingly adorable, the asshole. 

Kon uses the first picture he took as Tim’s contact picture and makes one of their shared selfies his phone background. Tim is mildly mortified but also desperately wants to earn lockscreen status, which is a terrible idea because what if Kon ever takes his phone out around the team or Red Tornado or, god forbid, Bruce? 

Tim should definitely make sure Kon doesn’t put him on his lockscreen. 

. . . but like, if he did . . . 

There’s a clay station. Kon stays at that one the longest, making weird little abstract shapes and surprisingly accurate miniature versions of the sculptures tucked away in the corners of the gallery with TTK. Tim hadn’t even noticed him looking at any of the sculptures, but in retrospect he never actually needed to “look” at them, did he? And on that note, Tim guesses the accuracy shouldn’t be any kind of surprising either–Kon must have a really good sense of spatial awareness, if nothing else, and of how things “should” be shaped. 

By the time they get through the last station of the exhibit, they’ve been at the museum almost twice as long as Tim’s most optimistic estimates had allowed for and he’s had to sneak off to the “bathroom” for five minutes to push their reservation back an hour. Tim has absolutely zero intention of rushing Kon, especially if he’s having a good time, so it just makes more sense to reschedule than to put him on a schedule. 

Though he did have to actually make sure to go into the bathroom to do it, since Kon might’ve noticed him not heading that direction. Tim doubts Kon’s paying attention to what anyone’s doing in the bathroom, for obvious reasons, but he still probably would’ve noticed the date he was briefly concerned might be a supervillain just ducking around a corner to make a phone call ten yards away, no matter how Bat-stealthy said date was about it. Like, that seems like a stupid thing to expect him not to notice. 

They stop by the gift shop on their way out–well, Tim detours Kon to it with subtle herding, anyway–and Tim manages to convince Kon to pick out a couple of things. He ends up with a couple of sort of fidget toy-type puzzles and a little three-pack of little tubs of a clay-like play sand in bright colors, which Tim thinks is probably meant to function as some kind of stim toy and was probably something specifically sourced to go with the event, and Tim “accidentally” throws in a couple of fancy candy bars from the front register. Again: Kon needs calories that weren’t directly sourced from cafeteria food from a definitely-not-OSHA-compliant cloning lab. 

Maybe Tim can send Kon a fruit basket or ten while he’s still stuck at Cadmus. Those probably come in tropical themes. 

Alternately, maybe he can just kidnap Kon outright and trap him in a nice new cul-de-sac until he gets used to it. He could get him actual groceries, then. Lots of them. Fruit and vegetables and entire spreads of “things that weren’t made in an OSHA-noncompliant cafeteria”. That’d be nice. 

Also he could send that Hawaiian food truck by on the daily, if they were up for it. 

They share the candy bars on the walk to the restaurant–meaning, Tim takes two perfunctory bites of each and tricks Kon into eating the rest with basically zero effort–and it’s . . . nice, honestly, just walking around together. Just being together. Not that this is new knowledge, after the mall, but it’s still novel enough that Tim can’t help indulging in and enjoying the experience. They don’t usually get much time alone together, much less time that isn’t spent either fighting supervillains or dealing with emergencies. So–it’s nice, yeah. 

Tim likes it, he means. 

They make their adjusted reservation, and Kon peers around the restaurant awkwardly as they’re led to their table. Tim resolves to do whatever it takes to get him to relax, up to and including embarrassing himself in some way or another. He’s probably going to do that anyway, given how most of these meet-ups have been going. 

“Does it qualify for ‘nice’ enough so far?” he asks once they’re seated, and Kon blushes, then flashes him a grin. 

“It’s okay, I guess,” he says, then bites his lip with a brief flicker of insecurity as he glances down at the menu–specifically the prices on the menu. “Um . . . are you sure you wanna spend this much on me, though . . . ?”

“I want to spend my entire trust fund on you,” Tim says matter-of-factly, and Kon lets out a weird little laugh and ducks his head again. It works a little better this time, since he has the menu to hide behind right now. 

“I already like you, man,” he says, which is still inexplicable but not something Tim is actually gonna argue with. “You don’t have to keep buying me stuff.” 

“I like buying you stuff,” Tim says. “I’m gonna keep doing it as long as you’ll let me.” And after that, he’ll figure out a way to sneak doing it. 

“Just because you like it?” Kon says, glancing at him over the top of the menu. 

“Because I like you,” Tim says. “I mean, no offense to the hostess, but I wouldn’t enjoy buying her dinner this much.” 

Kon bites his lip, then ducks his head again. His face is red. Tim feels the urge to kiss him again. He probably should’ve found time to do that on the walk over or something. Or as soon as he first saw him. Or just at any point so far tonight, because the urge is getting seriously distracting now. 

“So when you said you wanted to go somewhere after this too . . .” Kon trails off, flushing darker. 

“There’s a late show at the planetarium about the sun’s role in our solar system and the life cycle of stars,” Tim says. It might be too loose an association, but . . . “I thought you might be interested in checking it out.” 

Kon stares at him for a moment, then turns absolutely crimson and hides behind his menu entirely. 

“Okay,” he manages, his voice a little cracked. Tim’s pretty sure he could’ve said he’d rented them a hotel room and gotten a less embarrassed reaction. So . . . that’s a thing. 

Okay. 

“I really do want to spend the money on you,” he says. “Apartment and all.” 

“An apartment,” Kon says, glancing over the top of his menu at him again. “And bills and groceries and an . . . allowance.” 

“Yes,” Tim says. No point in beating around the bush, he figures. It’s all things he’s already told Kon anyway. 

“And not just because I saved your life,” Kon says. 

“Not just because you saved my life,” Tim agrees. “I just want to give you those things. Or anything you want, really. Which–well, what would you want?” 

“Um,” Kon says, just barely lowering his menu as his eyes skate away. “Well . . . could we like . . . keep hanging out outside the theoretical apartment and stuff? If we did . . . that?" 

Tim feels something absolutely giddy and absolutely painful in his chest, hearing that question. Just–what does Kon think, that he just wants to toss a lease at him and never see him again? Or just only come over to . . . actually, wait, maybe Kon does think–ugh. Ugh. Fuck, that is not what he’s trying to make Kon worry about here. 

“Yes,” Tim says firmly. “As much as you want.” 

“Mm,” Kon says, biting his lip again. His face is still red. Tim wants to give him every single thing the world hasn’t given him, which he knows for a fact is a truly fucked-up and probably borderline-insurmountable amount of things. 

But he still wants to give it all to him anyway, and then think up a few more things besides.

[beegalactica]

HOT GIRLS ARE CONSCIOUS.

I haven't been on Tumblr in about 3 months (life has been busy), and when I finally decided to check back in today, I kept seeing the same thing over and over again, so I am here to dispel some myths.

If you have seen any of my posts, you will know the issues I have with traditional TikTok-y trendy 'glow-up' advice, but today I realised how much of it is just a ploy to get us to spend tons of money on things we CAN live without. I think we all need to be more CONSCIOUS: conscious of what we can realistically afford and implement into our daily lives.

For example, in a typical 'glow-up' advice post, tiktok or youtube video, they recommend these super unrealistic routines that include a full skincare routine of every type of cream you could ever imagine, and an incredibly detailed list that lays out how you need to spend every 10 minutes of your day in order to achieve this perfect form.

It's all hear-say.

Don't get roped into thinking that you need those brand new clothes, or you need those skincare items to be your best self. The idea of turning your 'glow-up' into a sustainable part of your life is to do things you can manage to do over and over again. The secret to glowing up permanently is having a routine that keeps you happy and healthy. Instead of buying a full shelf of skincare all in one go, get 1 or 2 items with positive reviews to start. You don't need to throw out your whole wardrobe and sell your soul to TEMU just to look aesthetic; use what you have. Rather than making short term impulsive purchases, treat every part of your life as an investment.

Especially when it comes to clothing, being someone who has lost weight and no longer fits into all their old clothes, instead of throwing everything out and starting from scratch, I bought a little amazon sewing kit with a couple of needles and different types of thread and started cutting and sewing my way to a better wardrobe. (Even TODAY, I turned an old pair of jeans that I never wear into a cute miniskirt all from a 5 minute YouTube tutorial.) If sewing isn't your thing, you can try using some hemming tape and an iron, fabric glue, or whatever you can. Be conscious of the things you buy and how often you buy them.

I know lots of people like thrifting, and you can thrift online with apps like Vinted, which I personally use and love, if you don't have access to massive thrift stores like they do in America (I'm totally not jealous at all 🙄🙄; I live in the UK and the closest things I have near me are charity shops but there's a sort of stigma around shopping in them but honestly who cares what others think).

When you shop for clothes, look for timeless and versatile pieces you can mix and match, layer and style with lots of different things, allowing you to wear them well. Try to find good staple pieces, that will make the basis of your wardrobe. Be an outfit repeater. Do not blindly follow trends; take the time to curate and explore to find your style. Make a massive Pinterest board of everything you think looks good, and start to make a list of common items of clothing and accessories you save the most; these will be your staples. Don't feel like you have to stick strictly to one aesthetic; my wardrobe ranges from 'fairycore' maxi skirts to y2k denim skirts, but what matters is that I am mindful of whether I will use the things I want to buy.

Of course, feel free to treat yourself, you 100% deserve it, but don't get sucked into the idea that your self worth is determined but WHAT you have; instead it should be how you FEEL in what you have.

I like to see my blog as a little notebook of things I wish I could have told my younger self, and things I want to remind my future self, and I feel like it would be a disservice to not talk about the oversaturation of our feeds with infinite products, to the point where everything feels like an AD.

Moral of the story: don't just take everything you see online at face value. Don't get trapped in extensive consumerism; it's bad for your bank account, it's bad for the environment and it's bad for your mental health.

Also here's my Pinterest if you want to have a peek around <3 Pinterest

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Another round of random creep headcanons

Because I'm not in a productive headspace and still want to write new content

Jane and Jeff while working under Slender have a truce, and while they definitely aren't friends and don't have the best relationship, there is one topic in which Jane will broach with him regularly; hair care products. Jeff has some of the best hair in the mansion (even to the extent that Jason asks him what products he uses), and so Jane, who is on a never-ending journey to be the most stylish person in the mansion, one day caved and asked him what his hair care routine was. Jeff was baffled and shocked about the whole thing, but now it's become routine that whenever he tries something new that works, he tells her about the product. Sometimes he gets her her own as a gift, but Jane gets too self-conscious about receiving gifts from him, so she always gets him a gift of equal value. 

Brian got Tim to start doing face masks. Brian has always taken good care of his skin, and he finds the prospect of face masks to be very relaxing, so he's gotten Tim to start doing them as well, and much to Tim's chagrin, his skin is looking and feeling better than ever, and it is actually an incredibly relaxing way to spend your time. The others used to tease him for it, but having your ass beat by a hunky, angry man with a face mask is an experience you find hard to forget, so everyone started leaving him alone about it. You'll find him relaxing next to Brian, face mask on, eyes closed, iced sweet tea in hand, just calming down after a long day. People still can't help but chuckle at him for it though, considering he looks like such a dad while he's doing it. 

Liu and Slender have overtaken the mansion with their Plant DadTM habits. Slender has an incredibly huge garden surrounding the mansion that he's worked on so hard over the years, and Liu shares the same aspirations for plants, with his bedroom being completely decked out in a variety of plants, but now the two of them have combined and decorated the rest of the mansion in plants as well. Flowers, indoor trees, succulents, cacti, any type of plant you can imagine, they have it somewhere in the mansion. They both split duties on caring for them, and all of the plants are flourishing wonderfully, and they honestly do bring a lot of life into the mansion. Sometimes the others will pitch in to help every now and then too, but it's usually Liu and Slender pulling most of the weight with them. 

Jason has gotten into the arts recently, and his main area of focus has been sculpting. He started out with things like cups and plates, but recently, he's been trying to seriously challenge himself, and he's been trying to make sculptures of all of the other resident's faces. It's difficult and time-consuming, but it's something that relaxes him at the end of the day. So far, he's completed sculptures of Slender, Helen, Pup, and Toby, and he's currently working on EJ and Jane. It's a good hobby for him with his attention to detail and artistic capabilities. He does his absolute best to get them as accurate as possible, including every single scratch or scar or dimple on all of their faces. He sculpts down to just below their chests as well, so he thinks it's fun to come up with tops for them to be wearing in the sculptures as well, and he likes doing different textures for different clothing. 

[rfswitchart]

A Lesson From Owl House That Gets Overlooked

So, I don't know if you know this, but I used to have a tendency of bottling things up. I was scared of people being angry and upset with me, so I pushed everything way down and tried to not let things get to me. And the things I've been through are horrific at the kindest appraisal. I think you know why I'm bringing this up... So let's not waste time and just talk about the two most self-conscious characters in the series; Luz and Willow.

I don't know if you noticed this through the series, but Luz internalizes EVERYTHING. Even before Hollow Mind and the whole "I accidentally helped a genocidal maniac carry out his wicked plan" thing, Luz was quietly baring the burden of grief and trauma. We don't know the full scope of the bullying she endured, it was probably hellish and certainly isolated her. Not only that, but she was carrying the pain of losing her father, which she also internalized.

Because of this, along with the bullying and the lack of support from adults in her life (save for Camila,) Luz doesn't really have a great support system until she meets Eda and King. And even then, it took Willow, Gus, and especially Amity for her to really open up about things.

Meanwhile, Willow was browbeaten by virtually everyone in her life. Amity, Boscha, teachers, everyone looked down on her, calling her 'Half-a-Witch,' forced into learning Abomination magic by her dads instead of the Plant magic she excels at. And of course, instead of that pain manifesting as grief and misery, Willow's internalization of her emotions turns to anger, frustration, and self-loathing as we see the first time we meet her.

Of course, she befriends Gus and Luz and things start to get better, but they depend on her strength and wisdom too much, which allows her to mask her feelings in favor of helping and supporting her friends. We see that it doesn't help that much, especially after Amity once again hurts her by accidentally burning all of her memories.

Granted, things worked out between them, but Amity (subconsciously, as she was genuinely concerned and cared about Willow) was looking down on her much later. And yes, Willow gets to be in the Plant track and becomes the Flier Derby captain of her dreams. However she's still hard on herself, still keeping herself from letting things out... Oh, did you guys not notice that in For the Future? Because Boscha was egging her on and antagonizing her in a moment of weakness, Willow was going to probably hurt or even kill her bully out of sheer anger.

Yeah, if that scene played out any further and she wasn't rendered unconscious by sleeping nettles, Willow was going to do something incredibly bad. I think Elijah (not-so-average-fangirl) saw that too, which is why she said "Willow, are you ok?" during that scene. I know from personal experience that Willow was at her absolute breaking point and when you realize that, it's terrifying. She was going to let out her anger violently on someone who deserved it, but not to the extent that she was clearly going to go with it. It's also why Willow does indeed breakdown after that. She can no longer control her emotions, especially after seeing her dad puppeted and the guy she clearly had feelings for die in her arms...

Of course, we know how both Luz's breakdown in Reaching Out and Willow's breakdown in For the Future resolve. They both talk about it or let out their emotions, and they do so in front of the people that matter the most to them.

For Luz, she tells Amity about her dad. She cries over it in front of her and they resolve their first real fight since going out. Then, they both make flowers and cast them off over the Boiling Sea, continuing the tradition of Luz and her mom without being in the Human Realm. Amity's also the one that tries to comfort Luz the most after learning about Belos, because even if our hero isn't feeling great about what happened, she still someone who truly loves and supports her.

For Willow, it was a need for someone who doesn't rely on her telling her that it was ok to let it out. Someone who could stop her and beg her to never call herself 'Half-a-Witch' again. Someone who truly understood all the pain she was going through and was willing to both support her and let her vent. Now who could that be...?

Of course, Gus did obviously help in that scene, but Willow needed to hear it from Hunter. She needed someone who has only ever seen her as strong who didn't depend on her for support to just say 'you've been holding in a lot, haven't you?' Granted, I won't say you need romantic love to let your feelings and pain out to, but I am saying that a strong enough and supportive enough person can help with that. That's why Gus being there in the Willow breakdown was important. That's why all of Luz's friends telling her that helping Belos wasn't her fault was important. The most important thing about bottling emotions is to have someone there to talk to, be it friend, family, lover, or therapist.

[random-introverted-blog]

Across Stars and Time [Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader]

Spawn vs Ascended oh my gawd

Edit: Due to incredibly popular demand on AO3 (again) this story has been converted to a full story called His Star - His Queen. It's being cross posted between here and AO3

Read His Star - His Queen on AO3

Read His Star - His Queen on Tumblr

Intended Audience: Mature [Merely a suggestion, like speed limits, right?]

Who be smoochin?: Astarion x F!Reader

The Bit: At long last, Astarion will be free of his master and you will be his most enthusiastic cheerleader as he ends Cazador, once and for all. So you think until you find an Imposter Astarion that waits in the center of the room for you. Cazador tortured and dying at his feet. And your Astarion, to his horror, faces the true cost of his ascension. You.

Warnings/Advisories: ANGST, no happy ending (though it ends on a brighter/hopeful note), major character death (not either Astarion, that would be too easy on both of them), references of past SA, references of suicide, a reference of sucidal ideation, violence, injuries, yandere doing yandere things, obsessive and possessive behavior, your boyfriend is getting the shit kicked out of him, your "husband" who is the same man from another universe is kicking the shit out of himself, "HERE COMES ASCENDANT ASTARION WITH THE STEEL CHAIR FROM THE TOP ROPE", is it time magic or jumping across realities, "SPAWN ASTARION WITH THE SUPLEX"

Words, all the word (count): a whopping 5,390

Writing art and breaking hearts in 3...2...1

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Save it for when I'm standing over Cazador's bloody corpse." Astarion had said when he stopped you from kissing him today.

And that was fine, sure, you really wanted to, but you could understand he was not in the head-space to be affectionate with you. It didn't change how he felt, or how you felt, so what did it matter? You could wait your whole life for his kisses and embraces and still die happy, so long as it was a life shared with him. There was nothing you wanted more than Astarion, baggage and all. No matter how unsure and self conscious he was about what he believed he lacked or couldn't give you. You crossed your fingers that it would be enough he would decide against completing the ritual. It would change him, that you knew without a doubt. And you were nervous it wouldn't be a change for the better.

You loved him for him, as much as you were afraid to use those exact words, and you had seen plenty of times what immense power does to people... your heart clenched thinking of that happening to him.

Nights nuzzled into his chest, legs tangled together, fingers in your hair. The safest and warmest you've ever felt was being in his cold arms. These were some of your best memories in the few you still held from your past life. And you made sure he knew he didn't even need to do any of that, the cuddles and kisses, to have your love. It was unconditional. It always would be.

You couldn't wait to stand with him as he finally ended this chapter of his life and turned the page, and his eyes toward a brighter future. Hopefully, if he wished it... it would include you.

But something was wrong. There wasn't a single servant to be seen in the whole place. You found the signet ring left on the floor in front of the sealed door and Astarion chalked it all up to Cazador paving the way for his "homecoming party". It didn't sit right with you, and you had tried to express as much to him but it just made him snap at you. After all, he spent two hundred years as a slave to the vampire lord. Who were you to question what he did and didn't know?

After that, you had kept your mouth shut. It hurt, but you had already forgiven his bad mood. You understood he was going through a lot, anxiety eating him from the inside out. So you kept your thoughts to yourself and did your best to keep your perceptive eyes peeled for any clues. Your gut instinct was right. When you found the elevator to the crypt, you had silently hoped it would ease your own troubled thoughts, your paranoia, but truth be told; it made it worse.

You looked among your companions to gauge if they perhaps felt the same. As rare as it was to see them all together on a mission, Astarion had earned their friendship just as much as you had, and not a one turned down the chance to deliver a long overdue beat down on Cazador Szarr.

But the only thing you registered on their faces was a determination for violence. Glad as you were, you were just as eager, of course, but that did little to soothe your nerves. It wasn't uncertainty, like Astarion's, much as he tried to mask it. No, something felt... changed. Unbalanced. Your tadpole, maybe? No, it was quiet as a babe. Your urges? No, your bhaalspawn blood, despite feeling a mite antsy, was relatively subdued.

As you crossed the crypt on the way toward the two large, ancient doors, a voice called out to Astarion. He stopped, glanced at you and turned slowly toward the cell. Expression impassive but footsteps cautious, until his eyes widened. "Sebastian??" He gasped, taking one step back.

"What are you doing out here?" The spawn asked, clinging to the bars. "You're supposed to be in there!" The man jabbed a finger toward the door.

Drawing your brows together, you glanced at the doors behind you, and you started to drift toward it. Screams caught your ears from within. Muffled, but sharper as you moved closer. A hand on your shoulder, and you found Gale, Halsin and Shadowheart at your back while Astarion was distracted with the spawn. Tempted as you were to stay, he seemed to be really distraught. Something was undeniably wrong now. Why were they so convinced he had already come through here?

Those screams were unlike anything you had ever heard, sounds of terror and agony that sent shivers down your spine. You had heard and seen a lot in your travels, you all had. But nothing quite like the sounds coming from beyond these doors.

Halsin took the lead and pushed the doors open, you close behind, Shadowheart and Gale took the rear behind you.

You were startled when the doors slammed shut behind Shadowheart, and the four of you looked among yourselves, searching for an answer for the other. When all you received were questioning stares, your eyes wandered to the center of the chamber and you descended the long stone staircase. Lining the platform, hovering above red sigils, were Astarion's siblings. Veils of darkness covered their faces, whatever it was doing, the source of their twisted symphony for relief.

Dead center of the platform, a figure in top-grade studded leather armor hunched over someone on their hands and knees. Hands visibly trembling against the floor, drenched in sweat.

As if sensing your presence, the figure tossed something from their right hand, a blade skidding across the floor, their now free hand raised in the air and snapped their long fingers. Instant silence fell over the ritual chamber. "Ah, there you are..." a voice greeted in a low, familiar purr. "I've been waiting..." they continued, slowly straightening to full height, presenting you the equally... hauntingly familiar white curly haired back of their head. "Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you." Looking over their shoulder before at last, turning to face you. "Waiting... to have you."

"What kind of sick magic is this? An identity spell?" Gale questioned, as confused and audibly disturbed as the rest of you. Bewildered at this seemingly perfect copy of Astarion. No... something was off. You just couldn't put your finger on it. It wasn't anything on a physical level, as far as you could tell. He wasn't wearing the same armor, though. Like you noted earlier, this was top grade studded leather armor, dyed a midnight black and dark red. Yours was wearing the set of Spidersilk armor you had pried from the dead drow woman back at the Emerald Grove.

"Cazador, if you think hiding behind his face is going to stop me from peeling yours from your bones, allow me to let you down now." You glared, readying your weapon and assuming your stance. The others followed your lead, as always.

But the Mimic chuckled, a soft, airy sound too like Astarion for it to be a mimic. "He won't be able to answer you, my dear" they chuckled, tone filled with amusement. "He's long swallowed his own tongue." You watched the deep crimson cloak sway behind them as they circled around the trembling man, turning him over their black boot. The man fell onto his back, and you assumed the dark-haired elven man, face swollen, bloody and almost too distorted to be recognized as a face, was all that remained of Cazador.

He gasped and wheezed, and the mimic used their foot to force Cazador's head up to face you, providing you a better look. Sure as they said, there was no tongue... or fangs, either. Only two gaps in the top row of teeth where they should be.

Unceremoniously, they dropped his head to the floor, and you realize the mimic hasn't actually taken their eyes off you since they circled around Cazador. "I am a man of considerable patience, but even I grew bored idling about, waiting for him to bring you to me, my treasure."

"A shapeshifter." You blurted out as the thought crossed your mind. "Really, an imposter of my lover? I'm almost flattered, dear sister" a mocking grin splitting your lips, hand tight around your weapon, magic crackling at your fingertips, waiting to be unleashed should they make a move against you.

The imposter raised their eyebrows before meeting your grin with their own. "No, darling. I'm more Me than that... creature you've been putting up with."

"What in the nine hells are you then?" you bite impatiently, tired of this back and forth. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. That you couldn't figure it out was wearing on you.

Behind you, the doors burst open, but neither of you looked away from your standoff to see. Footsteps rushing down the stairs, "y/n!" Astarion called after you, coming to an audible skidding stop at the scene before him.

"I'm the man you love, pet." The Imposter responded, as if the rest of your team didn't just rush in, as if the real Astarion wasn't joining your side, daggers drawn. "I'm the man who in another life you denied, using a disintegrate scroll on yourself to reject everything I gave you. The man who has crossed the stars and time itself to return you to his side." They took a step toward you but you held your ground, ignoring every impulse to turn heel and bolt the other way as they partly lifted their hands from their side. "I am High Lord Astarion Ancunín. Vampire Ascendant." Smirking from ear to ear in a way that was undeniably Astarion. From the glance you spare at your Astarion, he seemed just as stunned, confused... worried.

Still, you searched him for it: deception, doubt, a half truth, anything and your heart sunk further, the more you found to only prove his point. To your horror, this was Astarion. Somehow, as he said, crossed the barriers of your realities to be here.

Ascendant... This is what Astarion would become if he completed the ritual.

You searched his eyes, for what you couldn't say for sure, something to reject this, reject him. Something that would wake you from this nightmare. His eyes were cold, dark with malice, lacking any of the warmth you felt when you stared into your Astarion's, they were commanding, all-consuming.

Your body stiffened, rigid. You couldn't look away.

"There..." The Ascendant sighs, almost dreamily, "come here to me, my treasure..." Extending his arms wide, inviting you into them, and you feel every muscle in your body acting on its own.

Panic nearly takes your senses. "No, I can't..." you force the words out before your throat tightens and your tongue stills.

But that's all he needs to hear to understand. Astarion's arm wraps around your waist as your feet move, pulling you into his arms instead. With a mind of its own, your body thrashes and squirms against him as if desperately trying to heed the Ascendants' command, but he doesn't let go. "Easy, darling, I've got you..." He murmurs in your ear, not unlike the nights he's comforted you, tied up and writhing on your bedroll. "I won't let him... I won't..." you detect the softest of tremors in his voice while you struggle to regain control of your limbs.

Behind you, you listen to your friends scrambling to form a protective line between both of you and the Ascendant. "I don't know what damnable creature you are," Wyll says from somewhere in the line, "but I know my friend Astarion, and that's enough reason for me to drive my blade through your putrid heart."

"What you are is an abomination." Halsin speaks right after him, "part of understanding and appreciating the artistry of life is understanding the role death plays in nature's beauty. But frankly... I cannot imagine any reason for your existence." He concludes with a harsh glare at the Ascendant.

Who merely lifts an eyebrow. "How imbecilic." He says impassively, glancing among your six friends. Suddenly his eyes glow and mist red, and with a wave of his hand the very shadows at their backs surge to life.

Halsin's shadow is upon him with a viciousness you've only seen in rabid animals, shredding him to ribbons before he even turns to face the monster.

Lae'zel holds her own well enough before hers takes her to the ground. Though it seems grim, she appears to be regaining the upper hand quickly.

Gale whips around and reaches to grab Wyll and cast Dimension Door, but his own shadow counterspells him and blasts him with a ray of frost so hard it sends him hurtling through the air.

The Ascendant watches the wizard sail past him with a barely suppressed humor to his features. "Oh, dear..." He mutters just loud enough to be heard, "not going quite the way you expected, is it?" He mutters, raising his hand to examine his nails. Only appearing mildly interested in the chaos unfolding in front of him.

Wyll dispatches his shadow, only to watch Karlach overwhelmed by hers, and he shouts in horror. Barely reaching her in time to block the downswing aimed for her chest.

"And how about you druid—Oh, dear..." he gasps, a feigned expression of shock flitting across his face, moving that same hand to his mouth, a wicked smile barely concealed behind his splayed fingers. You shiver at the sadistic delight dancing shamelessly in his eyes while he gawks at the sight of Halsin, savaged and lifeless, face down in a pool of his own blood. "You always had that coming, you dimwitted oaf. The first time too..." He huffs, straightening his posture and holding his head up as he leers down at the body with blatant disdain. "And you know what they say about your own worst enemy...." As he glances among your friends, one by one struggling and fending for themselves.

Astarion tugs at your arm when your body stills against his. "We need to go, now!" he hurries, dragging you behind him.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs before you pull your arm free. "We're just going to leave them?!" you ask incredulously, raising your voice, gesturing and looking behind you.

Shadowheart thoroughly thrashes her dark copy with impressive efficiency, diverting her energy now to the Ascendant. The familiar chant falls from her lips as she begins to cast Turn Undead. Vanishing in a blur of crimson mist, he reappears in front of her, and she successfully gets the spell off a mere second later.

But he stood there, unfazed. Flashing a wicked grin, he confidently takes hold of Shadowhearts' hands, lifting them up and then abruptly wrenching them in opposing directions, sending an uneasy wave through your body. She cries out in agony, and the Ascendant allows her to collapse to her knees before he callously brushes her aside with his boot, treating her as though she were nothing more than a worn-out toy.

Astarion takes your arm again, returning your attention to him and desperate urgency flashes over his features. "You don't understand. I know what he wants, and I won't let him—"

Just as he turns around for the stairs, a flash of red mist. "Tut-tut." The Ascendant scolds, clearly unimpressed, scowling at Astarion as the very shadows of the room gather around his hands.

Reacting faster than your vampire, you swiftly shove yourself between the two Astarions, acting on instinct.

Pain ripples through you unlike anything you've felt before, like a hammer of fire and ice that makes your blood boil and freeze all at once. The blast launches you back into Astarion hard enough to send you hurtling through the air, past Gale casting another spell.

Your body slams into the unforgiving coldness of the stone platform, causing a sharp intake of breath and a loud grunt of pain involuntarily slips past your lips. The force of the impact propels you into a chaotic, disorienting tumble, your cheek scraping the rough texture of the floor as you skid to a halt.

Despite the pain on your face, you dug deep and pushed on your arms, your body trembling slightly as you managed to roll onto your back. Vision hazy and unfocused. What in the sweet hells kind of magic was that?

Where's...?

Straining your eyes, you see Gale rushing toward you before ominous black chains materialized from the floor and curled around his arms and legs, forcefully dragging him to his knees. Instinctively reaching for the wizard but your thoughts and concerns quickly shift elsewhere at the sound of your name. Tilting your head backwards, your heart almost settles at the sight of your pale elf scrambling to his feet toward you, "Astarion!" you call back, mustering your strength again in an attempt to get back on your feet.

And as quickly as you felt some sense of relief at the sight of him, your heart sinks violently at the tendril, the whip of dark magic that coils tightly around his body and flings him backward, away from you. With his rogueish reflexes, he quickly gathers his feet under him and lunges for his attacker. Fiercely, you struggle to your knees, desperate to help him.

The Ascendant effortlessly extends his arm, gathering at his legs, "even vermin must kneel before a god," he sneers, snapping his arm back to his side, sending a grunting, growling Astarion down with it, knees slamming to the ground. A fury to his stride "you were always worthless, sniveling..." raising his boot and pressing it harshly onto your vampire's shoulder, "groveling." Pushing him harshly down onto his hands.

Lightning flies from behind you, a quick glance reveals Gale had managed to get the spell off, and the Ascendant winces at the unexpected attack, stumbling off of Astarion. Who doesn't waste the opportunity and tackles his full weight into him. It doesn't do more than throw the Ascendant somewhat off balance as the two wrestle for the upper hand. "Bluster all you want, but I see what you really are! A lost, empty, miserable creature! Trying to fill a hole in your heart that all the power in the world will never sate!" Astarion snarls with his fangs on full display.

With a shove, the Ascendant puts distance between him and Astarion. His eyes glow red again and he grabs Astarion by the throat, lifting him into the air like a rag-doll. A familiar hand touches your shoulder and you're about to turn and thank Gale when the Ascendant's head snaps in your direction. The chains, which never fully released Gale, tighten around his arms and legs but begin to pull slowly in opposite directions. Then he opens his hand, his palm flat and level with the ground. Darkness swirling from the room and around his fingers like moths to a flame, and he steadily curls them back into his hand as it simmers a soft, red glow.

Blobs of shadow ooze from the floor and take the shape of monsters, soldiers, ghouls... One dozen, then two. Far more than you know your friends and you can fend off on your own. "Wait!" You shout before you can fully think of why you're doing so, rising to your feet at last, despite the way your legs ache and demand you don't.

Eerily, it all comes to a stop. All of it. And though the Ascendant pauses a long while, even he flings Astarion carelessly behind him before he slowly turns to you. "Apologies, my treasure... I got carried away." He says calmly, watching you cautiously circle around him.

You hesitantly look around the room. From Cazador's body, to Halsin's mangled and brutalized and the six spawn still muzzled with dark magic... "why are you doing all this?" is all you can ask in a barely audible whisper.

"You." He answers, so simple yet with such reverence. "For you, for us, I have dominated this city, compelled it to kneel before you, reduced it to little more than your personal footstool for your amusement." His eyes were distant with fond memories, and evidently clueless to the horror in your eyes. "I made you my queen, and I sat you beside me on a throne befitting of one, one that embodied your grace and beauty." You watched his eyes gaze upward, still deep in his recollections.

"The sight of you seated beside me never failed to make my heart swell with pride and fill me with contentment, like a melody playing in my soul." The words tumbling out, as if he'd been holding them in for centuries, bringing a hand to rest flat against the chest of his armor, over his heart.

"Hundreds of servants who kissed the ground you blessed with your every step as you tread the halls of our palace... and still, you rejected me." The Ascendant growls, taking a step toward you that has you quickly reeling backward, away from him. "After everything I taught you, all the delights of obedience, slow as you were to learn them... Countless nights spent coaxing your body to submission to me with nothing but pleasure. And you. Still—"

"No wonder I fucking killed myself." You spat, cutting him off before he could make you vomit... gods, how your stomach churned... "By the hells," you muttered, a look of disgust on your face. "What made you think I'd ever want that? The Astarion I know, my Astarion, would never... He knows me. Sees me." Gesturing behind you, and on cue, you felt his hand brush yours. "Did you?" The words sounding like a soft plea on behalf of your Other Self. A life, by what he described, you loathed.

The Ascendant regards you, his face impassive and impossible to read and all you could hope - pray for, was that your words were getting through. Even if he may not be your Astarion, it still pained you to see him like this. Amazed you he didn't look any different in the physical sense...

But then you watched his piercing scarlet eyes swirl back, full of malice, the twisted obsession of a love now corrupted, a chilling fury smoldering in his gaze as it consumed you. Commanding.

He grinned as your limbs once again went rigid. "Yes. I do." Casually raising his hand, this time you can only helplessly watch as another burst of foul magic slams into Astarion behind you, "now be a good girl, stop struggling and come to me."

In an instant, you berated yourself for your own stupidity to fall for this again, as your body stiffly, though slowly, moved forward. Behind you, chaos erupted as the creatures summoned by the Ascendant swarmed upon your friends. To your relief, you hear them fighting, possibly even holding them off, but that just meant you were on your own against... this.

Straining with all your will, you tore your gaze away from his eyes and fixated on the center of his chest. Though it had no effect on the command already imposed on your unwilling body, it felt less forceful. You grimaced, wriggling your fingers as you fought to regain any semblance of control from him. You never told Astarion you love him, you have to tell him, and you need to beat this if you ever want to...

With a fierce growl, your arms at last heed your demands, allowing you to swiftly reach for the dagger holstered at your side. However, you misjudged the distance between you two and realize too late you're within his grasp, and he quickly seizes your wrists, forcefully pulling you towards him. "Gods, I've missed you, my love..." The Ascendant's warm breath caressed your ear, his grip strong and possessive. Tight and suffocating.

Warm... He's...

With precision, he extends his hand towards your face, gently leading it to meet his own. The moment your lips touch, a searing heat spreads through your body, intensified by the graze of his fangs against your lip. As if anticipating your resistance, his other hand swiftly clasps the back of your head, holding you in place. Preventing any thought you may have had about breaking away before he's done.

It freezes you at first. The similarity, yet stark difference, of his lips hits you like a sudden gust of wind. It's a complete contrast to the cold you've grown accustomed to and sincerely enjoy from your Astarion.

How similar, but utterly different, his lips are. They radiate warmth, as do his hands and breath. It's a complete contrast to the cold you've grown accustomed to and sincerely enjoy from your Astarion. The smell of the Ascendant, rosemary and bergamot, differs from yours, though, with his comes a tinge of a frosty winter evening. Against every sense in your mind, screaming at you to stop him, fight this, your heart races with a sickening blend of fear and want.

Still, you fought, barely resisting the intense urge to kiss him back. This wasn't your Astarion. Yours was... calling out to you, and you could barely hear him. Could barely hear anything other than the Ascendants' breaths and mouth moving on yours, as if tempting you to sync with the kiss before he silently gives up and barely separates from you. "Come with me, my dark consort." He practically purrs, his lips brushing yours. "Faerûn waits eagerly for the return of its queen..."

The realization dawns on you, and your gut clenches in anticipation of what is about to unfold. You make one final, desperate attempt to wrench yourself free. Sights and sounds beyond the Ascendant return to you. Prying your arms free, you push against his chest.

Gods above, you don't want to live the nightmare he just described for yourself.

He sighs at your struggling and tsk's, "it seems I truly will have to teach you, and your body, all over again... And here I was hoping I could have the chain removed from the bottom of your throne..." murmuring softly, words dripping with disappointment, like the steady fall of rain.

Did your other self have a spare scroll handy...?

You writhe in his arms, twisting away in your attempt to untangle yourself from his grasp and slip down to the floor, knowing that attacking him with your hands will be useless and unable to grab your dagger in this position. You focus all your energy on trying to escape.

Across the floor, your eyes meet Astarion's. Your Astarion. Fighting viciously through wave after wave of monsters, unable to make any ground toward you. A shared desperation in your eyes, even as a sinister red glow slowly surrounds you. You never told him... you need to tell him...

Damn this. Damn him. "I love you, Astarion." You choke back the sob threatening to spill out, praying to whatever god is listening that he at least hears you say it.

For better or worse, his eyes gloss, "I'll find you, my love, I swear..."

Red swirls blind you.

And you're gone.

‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐

The moment you disappear, so does the small horde of creatures. Astarion shakily crosses the floor until he reaches the spot where they stood. Where He took you.

He collapses.

And he screams.

Screams until his throat is raw. Screams ugly, heart wrenching sobs that stung the ears like knives, with the power to move even the most callous heart with pity.

Today was supposed to be the start of his new life. One he dreamed of for two centuries, that he would share with you. Cazador lay dead beside him, so it was still possible, but what use was this freedom when he felt emptier than he's ever felt in his entire existence, living and undead? While within reach, it offered no solace. He would be alone. Again.

Astarion swore he would find you, but how would he? Would he have to ascend? Seize that power and ascend as well? Could Shadowheart bring back Cazador, just to use and spend him, so that Astarion could save you?

The way he... the Ascendant looked at you... It was vile. Utterly devoted to you, yet possessed by obsession. A gnarled, grotesque, and barely recognizable idea of his own love for you. The things he would do to force you to... love him. While wearing his face.

The terror that if he ascended here and now, that he could become that bastard...

Not even the tadpole, the Absolute mattered to him anymore. Not when he faced life without you, the only person to see him, to love him... For him.

He truly meant it. Not everyone had a heart like you. No one was like you. He would never find another love like what he feels for you.

Why didn't he just kiss you this morning when he had the chance...?

An odd, dense mist formed in front of him, and Astarion reluctantly watched it. Hells, the last thing he needs is... whatever this is.

"This simply cannot be permitted." Said a soft-spoken voice as an elven woman emerged from within. Her eyes scanning over the scene. She wore a light grey robe and a symbol around her neck shaped like a golden, dawning sun with five half crescents like spokes of a wheel. Her hair was long and bright, eyes a pale blue.

She knelt in front of Astarion, her fingers brushing what he is only now seeing. Dark, simmering runes that form a circle around where He stood, where He took you. "Are you keen to uphold your promise?" She asked without looking up at him.

Astarion blinked, but he refused to hesitate. "If you have a way to help me save her, talk quickly." He replies impatiently.

The woman slowly rose to her feet and Astarion, though his knees trembled slightly, rose to join her. "Save may be too strong a word. Her suffering is inevitable now, and it will be plentiful in supply." A small frown flickered across her features. If she noticed the anguish that those words caused him, she paid no mind. "But we may yet return her here, where she belongs. Where she's needed." She says calmly. "But it cannot be so without you."

"What part of 'talk quickly' do you not understand? Are they not words you comprehend? Tell me what you need and I'll do it."

"Patience, little vampling." The woman soothes, unperturbed by his temper. "This timeline must sleep before her disappearance can affect it. In turn, your parasite will sleep, just as hers has already." She explains patiently, as another figure, a small Elven man with a journal and quill in hand, emerges from the mist and joins her side. He kneels down and begins studying the runes, drawing them on the parchment. "It will not be simple or easy. The Ascendants' power has risen to heights we haven't seen in other timelines. But he cannot continue his rise unchallenged." She continues with a small shake of her head.

Astarion moved to take a step toward her, only for the man to catch his foot gently, holding it back from covering one of the runes. "Tell me what you need from me, and I will give it." He says back firmly, a growl edging his tone.

The woman nodded. "Come with me. We have much to discuss." She gestures slowly with one hand behind her, toward the mist.

He's about to start toward it with little hesitation, before he stops and looks back. Karlach kneeling beside Halsin's mangled remains, Wyll's hand on her shoulder. Gale and Lae'zel were on either side of Shadowheart, who was nursing her broken hands.

She gives a nod, committed to this just as much as he was. "Get her back. And thrash the bastard for me." The cleric encourages with a weary but determined smile.

With a nod and a silent promise, he turns back to the woman and now the man, their presence looming at the edge of the mist, and he strides resolutely forward to enter it alongside them.

"I love you, Astarion." His heart shattering all over again remembering the tremble in your voice.

Astarion swore he would find you.

And this time he would say it back.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A/N: Sorry, I just didn't have the heart to end it on a note of "oh no Spawn Astarion is just fucked now I guess".

This had been an idea on and off, but was inspired to go for it when I saw it prompted during my regular tumblr scroll. I have written, and rewritten and written it again, over and over, and this is the culmination of endless suffering. So... Thanks for reading this far! Hope you liked it!

EDIT: this is intended as a one-shot. There is no planned continuation. The ending is written to provide an alternate, a sense of hope, if you, the reader is unhappy with the "bad end". You can decide for yourself if Astarion is successful at finding you, if he survives a second confrontation, the consequences of it all, etc.

Of course, I have plenty of ideas for how I'd continue it but I have no serious interest to at the moment. I might write it privately for myself if I do, but it depends how much people care about this.

[bekkachaos]

BRIDGERTON THOUGHTS PRT 1 !

Okay so I've got me some thoughts about season 3 and I'm just going to get them all out, please come talk to me and tell me if I'm wrong, if I'm right or just make incoherent noises at me.

If you don't want Bridgerton season 3 part 2 spoilers it's time to look away!

Imma start with just Polin then do another post for the rest, this is too long 😅

Okay, so I'll start with the music, I'm sure we all knew POV was going to be during the mirror scene and oh my god it did not disappoint. It was perfect.

Then we've got yellow, now I knew, I knew, this would be their wedding song. It had to be their wedding song. I was ready to boycott if yellow was not their wedding song (this is a lie but that's how confident I was) and it was so goddamn sweet with him looking at her coming down the aisle and she looked so beautiful!

And let's not even talk about you belong with me when they're dancing. Let's not even talk about it.

The Portia and Colin scene was perfect. Everything about it was perfect and you won't change my mind.

I really loved that we got a lot of parallels and nods to the things that Portia has done for her family and the things that Penelope has done as Lady Whistledown, and that it finally allowed them to be closer because Penelope has spent all this time thinking her mother doesn't care about her and that she's vapid but then by the end she realises that they aren't all that different and it really mends the gap there.

It was kind of sad for Colin when he was showing Penelope their new house and she just wasn't getting as excited as him. But then him telling her that he loves her right after defending her honour was so beautiful and just made my heart do little flippies.

And like obviously I've got to mention the mirror scene. I've got to mention it. I've just got to do it. It was so soft and loving and Colin just spouting his feelings was the most wonderful thing and they did it so beautifully with the way that they changed the camera and it went from voice over to him talking real time.

Unpinning her hair? Why the fuck did I find that so romantic?

And I love that they kept her self-conscious and he just kept telling her that she didn't need to be because he loved everything about her and he found her so beautiful, and then he undressed her so slowly and I love her little cover up because it showed how nervous she was.

But can I just say? Lie down? Lie down?? Damn okay Colin. Yes sir right on that.

And then him undressing just as slowly and her watching him and my god the little noise when he took off his breeches, her face was so cute the whole time I can't even tell you how adorable and perfect it was!

And I love how much it nodded to the book in the dialogue and her asking him to tell her what to do.

The whole scene was just so tender and real and it felt so different to the other love scenes that we've had in the previous seasons, which were very much driven by passion. Even Daphne and Simon in season 1. Where there was that vulnerability it was different, he had already told her how she could feel pleasure whereas this is all new for Penelope, and Colin just made sure she was okay the whole time, made sure she wanted it, and the way they were able to smile and laugh... It was so comfortable and sweet and simply incredible!

The dancing in the church was just so cute and throwing in the line about him not being punished as a child was such a good book callback

Kinda glad Colin found out the way he did in the book, but fucking ouch!

The silence that came after? Fucking heartbreaking. But Portia and Violet noticing and wondering wtf happened was actually kinda funny, I like them together.

The wedding was incredible obviously, but also it felt wrong to go from the silence to such sweetness and then back to Colin literally sleeping on a tiny ass couch? Like WHY?

Also we were deprived of Colin and Pen waking up in bed together and being soft and sweet and laughing and just generally being so fucking in love?? If I don't get that at least once in season 4 I will riot!

imma make a part 2 this is so long!

[xerith-42]

Stop blaming characters for bad writers

Seriously, stop fucking doing this. While this is a post that could certainly be applicable to MANY fandoms, I'm mainly directing this whole rant at my target audience which is mentally ill minecraft obsessed freaks.

If a character is written badly, gets badly fumbled by the creator, or has the ball dropped in regards to their arc in some way, a lot of people will blame the character, as if they're a real conscious person making these decisions. When they aren't. They're a block man literally being controlled by two people who just aren't very good writers and one or both of them are incredibly sexist, kind of racist, ableist, and just bad writers in general.

Yeah, Laurance does some pretty shitty things through out Season 2 of MCD, actively crossing lines he wouldn't have previously crossed. We as fans can cope by saying something something calling, or just saying Laurance is a bad abusive person, but the reality is that the writers wanted to force the series to fit a specific vision and as a result were willing to do anything to get the series to that point. In order to make Aaron the most favorable suitor for Aphmau, her previous suitors need to be out of the picture, or clearly inferior options.

Garroth suffered the out of the picture, being mostly absent outside of a few cutscenes here and there until episode 81 of season 2, but episode 81 is the culmination of the writers goals to make Aarmau happen. By the time Garroth has returned to the series, the damage has already been done. He's not getting the life he wants. And Laurance is written out of the picture as well, but only after being shown to be inferior because Jesson were pushing an agenda.

Laurance didn't deteriorate as a person due to neglect of his physical and mental well being after a severely traumatic experience. He deteriorated as a character because the writers stopped giving as much of a shit about him and instead were using the series as self indulgent fanfiction of alternate versions of themselves. That's not Laurance's fault.

And this applies to any character who was completely fumbled in MyStreet due to this similar focus on wish fulfillment from the writers. Jess has stated that the relationship between Aphmau and Aaron in Phoenix Drop High is reflective of her relationship with Jason, we all know this. This means that any characters who come off as total fucking creeps in that series (namely Gene), are not actually acting on the whims of their own autonomy or desires as characters. They are acting in service of telling a predetermined story that they are retroactively being added into for author fulfillment.

In this regard I fully support fandom cope and say that you should rewrite your little guys to your hearts content. But if you're going to criticize these characters for their actions, don't criticize them. They didn't do anything wrong. All characters are just puppets in service of the story or themes a writer is trying to push. If a character acts in an objectively terrible way, especially a way that isn't in line with their previous characterizations, that is a failing of the writers, not the character.

And I feel like largely a lot of us can and frequently do this. We're actively criticizing Jesson for being terrible low-key bigoted writers all the god damn time, it's like half of the content here. But when we get into character discourse I feel like some people cling onto bad actions of the canon too closely and I've seen more than a few posts presume some pretty terrible interpretations of characters based on these actions. Obviously Laurance is a character I and a lot of others are fixated on so a lot of discourse revolves around him, and it was seeing some... interesting takes on him that prompted me to start writing this post.

But this happens to everyone. Quite personally based on the character I was shown in MyStreet, it feels really weird that Garroth would make an insensitive comment about his brother's weight. Yeah siblings poke fun at each other and often cross lines, but if that was something Zane was seriously insecure about (which it seems like he might be) then it does make Garroth come off as a really insensitive brother, which just doesn't gel with how hard he tries to bond with Zane despite their tense relationship. And I don't think Garroth should be criticized for making those comments.

Whoever wrote those lines (Jess and/or Jason) should be criticized for writing a scene where a character is mocked by their older sibling over a physical insecurity even if said sibling would not normally do that. It's not Travis' fault that Jesson never decided to give him more of a character beyond "funny pervy guy" that's not funny in every anime they've watched until Season 5 of MyStreet. It's unfair to try and say Travis should be scrutinized for his borderline sexual harassment of some characters when it's not his fault that happened, he was written by writers who don't think this sort of behavior isn't all that bad if they make it out for comedy and punch him in the face.

And god dammit it's not Laurance's fault that his jealousy became the most prevalent emotion he felt. Laurance has always been a character to give into his vices and yet fight against them at the same time, it's what makes him compelling. If they were going to pull on those vices in order to make him a less appealing love interest, he never had a chance to really be his own character after a certain point. Because at a certain point in Season 2, Jesson stopped caring about the character they had been writing for over a hundred episodes at that point. They just wanted to canonize their self insert ship and were willing to do anything to get it.

Laurance isn't an abusive angry person who would have killed Aphmau if they got together. He's a flawed character being handled by incredibly flawed writers who are prone to making some of the worst decisions you have ever seen a creator make in regards to their character writing. He was caught in the crossfire of the adoration he received from a very dedicated fanbase, and the creator who would rather pretend he and his previous arc didn't exist for the sake of her fun. It's not Laurance's fault his arc was stilted, jerked around, and ultimately ended with him completely face planting. And yet still reliably dragging his bloodied body up at just the slightest glimmer of hope (Void Paradox).

It's deeply poetic and tragic that I can describe his character in universe and in the meta-textual sense that way, but we should never blame Laurance, or Aaron, or any other characters for things being like this.

They didn't write the show. Jess and Jason did.

[scarletttries]

Eddie Munson NSFW Alphabet (Stranger Things)

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Reader

Rating: Fluffy Smut

Word Count: 3.0k

Author's Note: Another Alphabet post this week with Eddie Munson 🥰 I think I'm going to stick with alphabets and headcanons for the next few weeks, because I have just started a new job and this feels more manageable than a full fic right now, so please feel free to request a fluff or NSFW alphabet with any character you might enjoy! :)

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

It's hard for Eddie to process all the joyful feelings flooding through his veins after sex with you. Physically he's never felt more blissed out, even if some of his muscles ache from supporting himself as he slams in and out of you, but pleasure is coursing through his whole being as he pulls you against his chest, unable to take his hands off you for even a second. He has the biggest smile plastered on his cheeks as he looks down at you, so grateful, and more than a little surprised, that you even want to do this with him, that you care enough about him to grant him the privilege of being so intimate with you. He's definitely going to insist you stay cuddled up in bed with him for as long as you can stand afterwards, so needy to keep you close and thank you for being there with him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It would genuinely be impossible for Eddie to pick a favourite part of you, there's no piece of you he doesn't consider absolutely perfect, inside and out. He would stare at you like he's looking at a priceless painting on a gallery wall whenever you start to undress, almost reverent in your beauty. Every curve, every line, every bump, he would consider it the highest honour of his life to be able to hold and touch and kiss.

He wouldn't feel overly confident in any part of his appearance before you start making him feel just as gorgeous as he is, but after he starts getting more physical with you, Eddie starts to feel really good about his hands. He's used to playing the guitar and all the delicate touches that requires, so getting to put those skills to work at making you feel incredible would definitely boost his confidence. More than that, he just loves getting to hold your hand in public and feel you close, showing everyone that he's all yours and that he's there for you everywhere you go.

C= Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Eddie feels so conscious of somehow marking the perfect being that is you, that at first he'd be really worried about being messy and you finding his cum gross. The first time you give him a blowjob, a moment he will treasure for the rest of his life, he's trying to fight back the overwhelming ecstasy and hold himself together, sure you'll pull away before the crucial moment. Instead you smile up at him, letting your tongue linger on his tip as you hum happily "Can't wait to taste you." It's about the hottest thing he's ever seen, and that's enough for him to spill down your throat, staring at you in almost disbelief as you lick him clean with the cheekiest grin on your face. Once he's over his concern, Eddie will be obsessed with the idea and feeling of cumming inside you, wanting to be as close to you as possible and leave something of himself deep inside you.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Eddie wouldn't even know how to begin to ask you for it, but he would be obsessed with the idea of D&D themed role playing with you. He's pictured you in a dozen costumes, thinking about how he could completely control your pleasure the way he runs a D&D campaign, you calling him master as you roll your dice to find out exactly what's going to happen to you next. For now he's happy just pulling you onto his lap when he's in his Dungeon Master's chair after games, but he knows that one day that won't be enough to feed his obsession with combining two of the things he loves most; D&D and pleasuring you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Eddie was definitely a virgin before you came into his life and turned his world upside down. No-one had ever really been interested in him in that, but that's not to say he wouldn't know what to do. He's seen enough dirty magazines to have a rough idea of what to expect, and more importantly, he's incredibly attentive in bed. He'll ask you how he's making you feel, and ask what you prefer in the ways he touches you, and after a few exploratory times together, he would quickly know how to make you feel absolutely incredible every time.

F = Favourite Position (this goes without saying)

Eddie loves any position where you're the one setting the pace and taking control, loving nothing more than feeling like you're using him for your pleasure. Having you bouncing on his lap while he gropes your body, or straddling his hips and riding him so hard he thinks he might pass out from trying to hold back his release, that's his idea of heaven. Sometimes if he's taking you from behind he'll slow his pace to a teasing crawl, just so he can feel you start moving your hips against him yourself, watching you bring your release all around him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It would take a few times for Eddie to confident enough to be his charming, goofy self but once he's stopped worrying that he's going to do or say something wrong and drive you away from him, he definitely brings his sense of humour to bed. He'd come out with the most ridiculous compliments, loving the way he feels vibrations run through you as he makes you laugh, your smile just as sexy as any lingerie.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they?)

It's the 80's so probably not very, but if you expressed a preference then Eddie would definitely tidy up for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Even though Eddie likes to keep things lighthearted in the bedroom, there's definitely still an undertone of intimacy throughout. Being able to be so open and vulnerable with you, really showing his true self and finally being not only accepted, but loved for it, well that's the height of romance to Eddie, and he would do everything to make sure you feel just as loved in return. He'll gaze at you with absolute adoration every second that you are together, never letting a moment pass when he isn't telling you how beautiful you are, and how perfect you feel, and how happy he is to be yours.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before he started dating you, Eddie did jack off a lot, having a reliable cache of dirty magazines and the occasional video tape to keep himself company. Soon he finds all those thoughts merging into images of you, even though it feels wrong when you're just a kind friend that he's sure would never feel the same way about him. If there's a day you brush past him extra close, or say something particularly lovely, he'll find himself speeding to get home and relive the moment as he enjoys his own touch, never once expecting you to ever replace his hand with yours. Once you're together it's easy to tell when Eddie's getting all worked up, so you're usually happy to help him out instead, after having a little bit of fun teasing him first, so now he's rarely away from your company long enough to need his own fun, but when he is alone he now happily lets the thoughts of you wash over him, reliving every second with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Eddie absolutely has a praise kink when it comes to you, tell him he's doing a good job and he will absolutely melt against you. The handcuffs over his bed also definitely come into play occasionally, keeping you restrained while he overstimulates you and insists you call him "Dungeon Master".

L = Location (favourite places to do it)

The back of Eddie's van is often where he pulls you when one of you (usually him) is feeling extra needy and can't wait to get home. He also loves when you meet him after D&D and straddle his lap on his dungeon master chair, feeling like the absolute luckiest nerd in the world. Other than that it's usually just Eddie sneaking through your bedroom window after your family have gone to bed so you can enjoy some precious time together and he has the perfect excuse to sleep over and keep you in his arms all night.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

What doesn't get Eddie going when it comes to you?! Say something kind and supportive to him? Boy is squirming in his seat. Sit too close to him? All the blood is leaving his brain, suddenly filled with thoughts of how nice your thigh feels brushing against his. The weather picks up and you show a little more skin? Eddie will be pulling you into the back of his van and showing you just how much he likes your outfit. He's just an easily excited guy who's so enamored with you that everything you do has his heart melting and his pulse racing.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Conscious of his dangerous reputation in town, Eddie wouldn't ever want to do something that might actually hurt you, uncomfortable with laying a hand on you that is loving and gentle. I think calling him anything too degrading would be a turn off for him too, still scarred from the mercilessly bullying of his youth.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eddie lives to go down on you. It almost embarrasses him how turned on he gets when his face is between you legs, devouring every drop of you like a man starved while he's whining and bucking his hips against the bed in desperation. He's never satisfied with tasting you, and hearing the way you pant his name as he brings you to the edge, knowing just how to lap at your clit to drag out your release and have your thighs clenching around his cheeks.

That's not to say he doesn't also love receiving though! Holy shit, when you run your tongue over his tip for the first time, his soul pretty much leaves his body and he doesn't know whether to smile or cry. He's just so grateful that you love him, and are so good to him, never taking your lips for granted and always making sure you can hear just how much he's enjoying you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the kind of mood Eddie's in; when you have a whole night or morning together, he loves being able to take his time to explore every inch of you, to tease you a little and drag out the whole experience until the two of you are completely spent. Other times he just really needs to have you, every fibre of his being aching to feel the way he only does when he's buried inside you. Then he's all frantic grabbing hands, and quick curses thrown out to the night as he pushes layers aside until he can finally touch you the way he needs to, watching your chest rise and fall with unsteady breath as you let his devotion wash over you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The times you get to take it slow and be a bit more romantic together are usually Eddie's favourite, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love the desperate, urgent quickies you have when you drag him to the back of van between classes, unable to stop thinking about just how good he made you feel last night. Honestly those slightly rushed occurrences make him feel like an absolute rockstar, and he can't thank you enough afterwards for taking what you need from him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It's safe to say Eddie would do anything for you, in the bedroom or otherwise, but he would be a little stressed about doing anything that might get him in serious trouble since he's really trying to graduate this year. But any kind of experimenting of roles, games, positions, he would feel thrilled and excited to be a willing participant in, and he definitely doesn't care about running late if you're looking at him in a certain way before you both have to be somewhere.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's not had a lot of experience before you come into his life, so Eddie probably can't last very long when you first start sleeping together, so overwhelmed by how good you feel and your undeniable beauty. But practice makes perfect, and he always makes the most of making you feel amazing before he buries himself inside you, so even if he's not able to contain himself very long, you both always finish feeling very satisfied. And usually it's not long until Eddie is ready for a round two, his fingers unable to stop themselves wandering down to play with your overstimulated clit whenever you lie next to him for too long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Eddie bought a little vibrator months ago when he was picking out diary magazines and thought it might improve his (frequent) alone time. He never even considered that one day he would have an incredible, sexy partner that he'd be able to use it on, until you find it rummaging through his drawers and question him on it. Turns out he only uses it on himself every so often, as a treat, but when you agree to let him use it on you his face would light up like it's Christmas morning. Just another way to make you feel incredible, changing the speeds and settings as he practically pins your legs open, watching you squirm and moan as he brings you over the edge again and again, sometimes with himself inside you, feeling all the vibrations rippling through your centre.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Eddie lives to please, but that doesn't mean he's not going to make you beg for it first. He absolutely loves when he can tell that you really want and need him, so he'd definitely take his time running his dick over your aching slit until you tell him how much you want him, and that you're all his. Bonus points if he's got you handcuffed to his bed frame so you're powerless to hurry him up as he decides he needs to eat you out for a little bit longer first.

When the roles are reversed, Eddie is an absolute baby about being teased - he loves it but he hates it, he's laughing then he's crying, his pleading and begging saying your name over and over but not sure what he wants enough to ask for it. He's so easy to get worked up that you can have a lot of fun teasing him somewhere he won't be able to get payback for hours.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Eddie doesn't have an inside voice, so there would never be a moment of silence when you're ripping off each other's clothes. The room would be full of pants and moans and whines, your name falling from his lips in between the most ridiculous praises and compliments. Even when his mouth is full he's still trying to moan out how much he loves you, and how much he appreciates getting to touch and taste you like this. Honestly sometimes you just have to tell him to shut up so you can actually kiss him, but just picking up the pace a little bit usually works too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for this character)

Eddie loves to have sex outside if he thinks there's no chance you'll get caught. He just never felt that at home in the trailer, and he'll always feel like a guest in your room, and the van is a little cramped for everything he wants to do with you. But lying on a blanket under the stars with you next to lover's lake? or skinny dipping in Harrington's pool when Eddie knows he's away all week? Or pulling you onto his lap at his favourite picnic table deep in the woods? That shit is what Eddie relives every time he's missing you: something about the moonlight on your skin, and feeling like you two are the only two people on the planet, with nothing but time on your hands - it leaves him appreciating the beautiful scenery around him more as he looks for more places to sneak off to with you.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

I think Eddie would be built like an average guy, but improved by the spread of sick tattoos etched across his skin - press your lips to each one as you sink to your knees and he'll love you forever.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

On a scale of one to ten, Eddie is an eleven. There is basically never a moment where if you straddled his hips he wouldn't be up for a good time. He had a high sex drive even as a lonely virgin, so now that he actually knows how good it can be, and has someone he loves to do it with, this guy is never not excited for the next time you want him to touch you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Honestly Eddie can be a whirlwind of (positive) emotions after your time together, so he needs some time to be buzzing with joy and share all the love with you before he can fall asleep. If you doze off he'll happily hold you in his arms, and lower his voice to a whisper, telling you all the wonderful thoughts he has, hoping that they'll fill your head with sweet dreams of him until the morning, when he'll get to be with you all over again.

[wtftarot]

PAC: The Moon

The Moon is my all-time favorite card. Representing all that is unknown, she calls us to embrace what we don't know. Accept that some things will never be explained in a way our conscious minds can grasp. The unconscious, the truths and illusions it holds. The often hazy way our intuition and instincts work. She is a mirror, reflecting back at us our longings and fears. What does The Moon have to tell you? Let's fuck around and find out!

as always this reading is for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Pick either the Dog, the Crab/Lobster? or the Wolf and head on to your reading.

The Dog

Your cards: 8 Cups Rx, Temperance Rx, 5 Wands Rx, 9 Wands, Page of Pentacles Rx, The Star, The Emperor Rx, Queen of Swords, The Moon, and the back of the deck is The Devil Rx.

The number 8 might be important to y'all. Are y'all like REALLY self-controlled? Self-contained, I'm hearing? What I think that means is y'all do your best to keep yourself, the true YOU, restrained for whatever reason. I'm getting that some of y'all may be neurodivergent. Hold on, Rainbow in the Dark by Dio started playing, so not to be too on the nose but some of y'all are LGBT+. Whether one or both of those are you or not, this whole group has a MAJOR issue expressing themselves authentically. With Temperance in reverse it's like you intentionally make yourself 'unbalanced' in a way, to avoid conflict big or small. And there's this vibe of "when x situation is over, I'll be the real me." In some situations, that could be true. Leaving controlling parents when you go to college for example. But, if you came to this group, I don't think that's your situation. At least not entirely. Holy fuck, a dove just flew by my window and scared the shit out of me. So, doves may be a sign for y'all. Anyway. It looks like, if you came to this group. You have restrained yourself to the point of atrophy. You've been held back. Held yourself back from being You, that you're not even sure who that is. You think that once this situation exits your life, you'll just suddenly be that person. That person you want to be and feel you are deep down. The person you've always imagined yourself to be. Thing is sweetheart, who you are isn't just a jacket you can put on when you feel the time is right. You're not just a switch you can flick and become yourself. You have to grow who you are/ want to be. You have to build yourself up. Even Dr. Frakenstein had to build the creature before he could hit the switch and scream 'It's ALIVE!" (Not that I'm saying you're a creature or anything. unless you want to be, you do you.) Actually, that may be a better analogy than I thought. You have to dig up the parts of you that you buried, hopefully not in a graveyard. Put them together, see what still fits, see what doesn't. You may need to find some new parts where the old ones don't fit anymore. You build yourself by trying out the things you think you'll be into, and experimenting like a mad scientist. Try new things out, keep what works, scrap what doesn't. I'm not seeing anything about it being dangerous for you to try to be fully you. More so there's a fear of what others will think. ( I don't know every situation though, keep yourself safe) Y'all may have always just been what was expected of you, never really thinking if it was something you genuinely wanted. I think the reason why Frankenstein came up so strongly is that y'all feel like this horrible, awkward, ugly thing when you do something new to you. Y'all may not start something if you think you'll be bad at it. Y'all could be incredibly critical of yourselves. Not gonna lie to ya babe. You will be bad at some things. You will try things you thought you would love and end up hating them. You'll love things you'd thought you would hate. You will be wrong and sometimes that's a good thing. Winning is no fun if you don't lose too. The losing is what makes the winning worth it. And honey, you have an amazing opportunity here: You get to discover who YOU really are. You're going to get to learn so much shit about yourself and it's going to be beautiful. The Moon is telling you all of this, all of that hidden beauty you're unaware of is going to come to light. So, let yourself go a lil wild. And I don't mean the stereotypical wild that you see everywhere. I mean wild FOR YOU. It's okay if wild experimentation for you is joining a book club. Hell, if the stereotypical wild is your normal, maybe spending some time with yourself is experimental. Listen to music you never thought you'd be into. Wear something that's a little 'too much'. It's all okay. You can stop cutting yourself down to whatever size you feel you 'should' be. I believe in y'all.

The Crab/Lobster

Your cards are: 4 Wands, 4 Swords, Judgement, 2 Pentacles Rx, 5 Pentacles, and on the bottom of the deck the 2 of Swords.

Sweetheart, this one may be a little intense, okay? First off y'all need a nap or at least a break. You're overworked and the thing is y'all are comfortable being overworked. And now you're like 'Ash, this ain't comfortable at all wtf'. Let me explain. Humans are extremely adaptable, we can get used to pretty much anything. Downside of that is when you get too used to something, it becomes familiar, safe, and yes even comfortable. We've all seen it, we've all done it. There's no shame in being human. However, just because you shouldn't feel ashamed of it doesn't mean you shouldn't try and fix it. Cause all of y'all are in a situation like this. Maybe it's not work-related, could be school or a relationship. Could just be a cycle or pattern that you keep repeating and can't figure out why. Now I want to be clear here. I am not saying whatever this is, is your fault. Some situations we're responsible for, and some we get pushed into. Some cycles are generations in the making, and some are our own shitty habits. That's life. This reading is to shift your attention to these patterns so we can break them and do better. I feel like y'all may have an inkling about what this pattern is. I think it's been coming into your awareness over the past few weeks or months. All of y'all are different and will have different cycles to break. So, I can't get any specifics. You're in a sort of awakening moment it seems. (Funny cause the first thing I said was that y'all need a nap) This cycle is going to become painful in a way. You're outgrowing it. It's going to become clear how harmful this has been for you. There's going to be a bit of grieving happening as you realize this. The kind of grief that comes with the knowledge of all the ways you've held yourself down, hurt yourself, and held yourself back. The grief of knowing you deserved better. You'll need to let yourself grieve but not get lost in it. Because while that's important, it's the next bit that's going to get you the farthest. You get to break the pattern. Unlearn the cycles. You get to move into a new part of your life that's not familiar but that's fun. Enjoyable and not just comfortable but decadent. It'll be hard at first to break the pattern. (that's why you need to rest now, not later) Our brains are wired for repetition but soon breaking the pattern will be the pattern. I'm so, so proud of y'all, group two. It's going to be beautiful where y'all go from here.

The Wolf

your cards are: 6 Cups Rx, 8 Swords, 5 Swords, The Moon Rx, The High Priestess, 7 Wands and the back of the deck is The Queen of Wands

How are my fighters doing? Cause y'all pulling the cards for this one was ROUGH. Usually, that means the reading is something you don't wanna hear or you already know and are fighting off. What's interesting is the whole time I was shuffling I knew the High Priestess was going to come out for y'all and she kept peeking out and hiding again. Cards kept flying out all over the place, I'm talking a shit ton would fall out at once I'd put them back and it would happen again. But The High Priestess didn't come out at all until I was finally able to pull an actual reading. What it felt like was that y'all have all these ideas of how this reading will go, ideas of what you need to hear, what you expect to get. You're actually drowning out your actual intuition. You may also have daydreams or fantasies about how your intuition will work, and what you'll see. I think you may be so deep in these daydreams at times that you're disconnected from your surroundings and even when you are getting something psychically, it can't get through to you. For some of you, it's not daydreaming as much as overthinking. Either way, y'all are a bit in your own head and it's distracting you from your intuitive gifts. Which of course is going to make you doubt them even more. Babe, I'm sorry if this is a little harsh. You just seem to be beating yourself up a bit for not being as good as you think you should be. I'm hearing these sort of self-criticisms about how you should be a 'better' intuitive? That you're not a 'real' intuitive, not a 'real' tarot reader, not a 'real' psychic, not a 'real' whatever because oh you should be able to do this or that and you can't so it's not real. Or you don't have intuitive hits daily so you're faking it all. Or you're not clairvoyant/clairaudient/clairsentient soo you'll never be a real psychic. Ya wanna know what that is? That's just a bunch of bullshit, right there. Let me tell y'all a lil something. First off EVERYONE is psychic/intuitive to some degree. Even if they only can remember having one intuitive hit and that's it. Now, not everyone has the same gifts, or psychic skills if you will. Not every psychic/intuitive will talk to the dead. Not all of us will be clairvoyant. Some psychics are clairvoyant but can't read tarot to save their life. Some people have multiple gifts, others have one. Some gifts are random but are not any less for it. For example, my sister knows when something we've been looking for is at a thrift store, she knows which one and where in the store it is and will walk right to it. It's awesome. Being 'more psychic' ain't all it's made out to be anyway. Believe me, it can be wonderful but it's also rough. I know a few really 'strong' psychics who have intentionally cut themselves off from their gifts because of things they've experienced. I myself have come close. All of that to say, you are a 'real' intuitive. Promise. You don't have to push yourself into something you're not sure about to be more 'legit'. You don't have to have all the skills, all the gifts, to be proud of what you can do. What you do have to do is stop fantasizing about it and actually BE it. Stop worrying about all you can't do and really hone what you CAN. We all have different gifts because the world needs all different things. Your gifts are yours for a reason, because you, specifically can add something to the world with it. Now, there's another message here maybe just for one person: It's your choice to embrace these gifts or not. If you do not feel comfortable with them you can let them go, it's okay. You're not ungrateful or doomed if you don't utilize them. Like I said, these sorts of gifts can be rough, and downright horrifying. It's okay to want something easier. And yes, you will be able to lead a fulfilling life without them.

[kanene-yaaay]

The Time

Heya heyaaa

Oof, thing feel really serious when I put a title javagcwwuvwdodj but! It's a proper moment to use a title here, I think. After all, I came to say goodbye.

Yeah, who would think ahfwtwcev

I have been thinking and pondering about this for some months now, since June when That Stuff happened and I had to jump away from here and uhhh it feels corny to say that but a lot of things changed to me and I changed a lot together with everything too.

So, I think it's my time to let this blog go. Not because I feel bad about it now or anything but... I am no longer that attached to tickling to maintain it. It's still cute, playful and comforting, but it is now a part of a lot of other things that are just as cute, playful and comforting to me.

This blog had a good run and I'm incredibly grateful because of it. Six entire years, if I am not mistaken, and I won't delete it anytime soon so the numbers will keep going! For as long as it wants or it is allowed to. All my fics, my headcanons, my rambles and reblogs will stay here because I don't want nor have the heart to delete it. There are such amazing, wonderful and well created arts and stories in this community that deserve all the attention and all the screams.

And! Talking about that! The people! I would like to say the biggest and most heartful thank you that you could ever imagine. Full of big hugs and smiles. I've met awesome people here that I will forever hold dear in my heart. Thank you for the company and the fun and for being so lovely and inspiring to me, all of you. It doesn't matter if we talked for years or minutes, thank you very much. It was so cool! @oliviaischillin1204, @august-anon, @flames-tstuff, @soft--valentine, @honeydew-sillies, @carrie-tate, @trashyswitch, @rosileeduckie, @squeaky-n-blushy, @why-not-a-tickle-blog, @thetickleeraven, @a-fluffer-nutter, @fluffyskies, @just-open-the-fridge-yo, @fluffystuffies, @ijustliketickling, @veryblushyswitch also everyone that is no longer in the community. If you see this, I remember you! Big hug!

And thank you so much for all of you that supported my blog and my work in any and every way. Commenting, reblogging, liking, sending askys about it... It really meant (and means!) a whole lot to me and Def is one of the reasons that kept me creating for so so long and so so much. It was the reason I stopped feeling so self conscious about my English and helped me to try new things and scenarios. Please accept this cookie as a token of my appreciation 🍪 I love to see all of your rambles or just your icon appearing on my notifs.

Also, how could I ever forget the artists and writers that make this community such a fun and colorful space? All the thanks and all the screams and rambles to all of you. Creating is so hard and yet you just come here and do such a wonderful job! How dare! I still think about your creations in my daily life, believe me ahcwgwxwhwcwfcw @ticklepinions, @intheticklecloset, @jettorii, @ssnicker-doodles, @giggly-squiggily, @simplysmilingdrew, @tiklart, @otomiyaa, @verynickelpizzarascal, @fbpanimations and much much more, tbh all the beans that I got shy to tag kjhgfdefghj

Hmmm, I think that this is what I wanted to say. To be honest, writing fics w tickling in it still feels comfortable and cool, so I will probably appear from one year or other to post something and vanish again ahfwtwxwowyq but yeah, can't really say that there will be much interaction besides that. I had that Big Post full of arts and fics that I love that I wanted to post before going but no energy dfghjhgf maybe one day I will finish it and post oh well

Anyway. One of the things that I always tried to bring here was that every creator should have at least one nice comment soooo if ! You think about me or this blog! Consider giving a comment or a quick rb to some artist/creator/blog that you really like, bet it will bring a smile to the bean's face! :D

Okay, okay, enough of rambling. It was incredible. Thank you! Hope you have a lovely week and don't forget to be kind, take care and drink water. Byee <3 <3

[bastionbibi]

Continuation of this.

In which Conan is a newborn Reaper trying to convince Rei's soul to cling to life with the help of the only person Rei will listen to, his own soulmate.

‘Exceeded my expectations yet again.’

Conan says nothing as his predecessor approaches. It is taking a human form yet again and is refusing to leave him alone, ‘Realm of Limbo harbours no sympathy, yet you manage to negotiate a temporary ascension, ah... what a master of persuasion you are, little Death.'

As usual, his successor is tightlipped, but the Reaper pays the newborn no mind, he owes Reaper no niceties, for it was he who condemned him to this role after all. But alas, it does come with its advantages, no? 

‘I shall leave you then, my Son.’ 

Conan is NOT his son, but that is what the Reaper has called him since the moment he was ‘born’, it's not like he can control what that entity wants. 

Conan is waiting in an empty road, fog so thick that he cannot see a thing a step beyond him, the only thing lighting up the path is the muted orange glow of a lamppost above. 

He waits, and waits, until he hears very faint footsteps in the distance. It moves, then stops, it goes away and comes near and then disappears yet again. Poor guy. 

“I'm right here…” Conan said, hearing the circling footsteps stop. “Focus. Follow my voice.” 

The footsteps are still walking around aimlessly, searching for him, yet the fog is so thick that it still takes the footsteps around more than fifteen whole minutes to come close enough until Conan can see a silhouette of his body. 

“Closer.”

Conan had never seen his face before, all he heard was stories, he knew of Furuya Rei's shattered soul, that he was one of the unfortunate few whose core was broken into thirds, he knew that there was a third person and yet he has never seen him before. 

“Closer.”

Dark hair, light eyes, this Hiromitsu comes stumbling close. 

In a quick glance, Conan immediately sees the resemblance he has to his older brother, their eyes are so similar it's almost uncanny. 

Conan watches as the soul stops, eyes scanning the fog, his irises are heavily clouded and Conan wonders if he can even see. Deep down, he feels sorry for him. The man has been asleep for so long, and he's supposed to be asleep for longer until both Furuya and Akai join him in limbo which he hopes will come only years and years in the future and yet here he is, being woken up before his time… Barely able to hear, barely able to see, he could barely walk as is… 

Conan reaches forward, the soul gasps at the feeling of warmth, a feeling so foreign to his barely conscious self. 

He can't see him, not yet, but it's okay. “Follow me.” Conan tugs him forward, he grips tightly to Hiromitsu's hand, walking at an incredibly slow pace, it takes Hiromitsu around a minute to take a single step, but Conan doesn't say anything. 

Lampposts appear and disappear as they walk, it took them 3 whole hours of slow walking until the fog ever so slowly clears out. 

Slowly, the ground under them turns familiar, buildings coming into view with their blurry road signs and jumbled numbers on billboards, incoherent sentences with improper spellings and flipped alphabets. The world in between has always been disorienting, a mirage of the reality in which it bridges. 

They pass the Beika roads ever so slowly, Hiromitsu's vision seems to have come back, not like it's any help, a soul is just a soul in the end, it doesn't possess a body that can filter sensations, so his eyes are open, he is walking, but he can't process what he’s seeing, he can't feel the surface he's stepping on. It’s like he’s numb from head to toe. 

The fog continues to clear, the limbo, the in-between world they're in is mirroring reality in which humans are walking about, but in here, the living are nothing but passing shadows and mists, Conan navigates through them anyway. 

They arrive at the hospital, he brings Hiromitsu inside of the elevator. This is it, the moment of truth, he has no idea if it will work or not, but this is his last plan, if this doesn't work, he'll have no choice but to reap Furuya's soul, and potentially break the last chance they have to be reincarnated together… 

No. He can’t have that. He cannot save everyone, and he's already stretching his powers doing this, but he HAS to try to save at least these three… 

5th floor. 

The elevator door slowly opens, Conan walks out, and for the first time, the soul next to him walks a tad bit faster, he's… drawn to something. 

Room 503.

He opens the door for Hiromitsu, Conan walking inside and closing it behind him. 

A man is sitting on the bed, or at least, his soul is, his physical body is still lying on the bed, nothing but a dark silhouette that is wasting away, his eyes just as clouded and misty, back hunched, hands limp on each side.

…He's even weaker than yesterday, he was still sitting upright the last time Conan visited him in this realm, Furuya is deteriorating even faster than he thought, he's not even trying to cling to life. Is he too late? 

Conan keeps by the door as Hiromitsu takes extremely slow steps just as before, Furuya's body, frozen as it were, twitches and his face turns to the side. 

He has lost his sight, but it seems like he still has some sense of his surroundings, because he knows someone is there, he knows… he can… feel… 

He can feel… 

…

Him. 

Those previously frozen hands reach up, his mouth hangs open, but he has also turned mute so no noise comes out, Conan closes his eyes, hearing the breathy, heavy croaks coming from Furuya who is trying to speak and yet, in his condition, must have already forgotten how to. 

…

Hiro is also having trouble locating him. 

Not being able to simply be a spectator to their struggle any longer, (he has always had a soft heart, the Reaper, his predecessor, said that it's a curse more than a blessing), Conan comes closer, he gently holds Furuya’s wrist, keeping them in place as he picks up Hiro's hand and brings them together. 

Soulmates are such a weird phenomenon, one soul broken into multiple pieces, so when they're brought back together, a part of them will return no matter what. Like sunset and the horizon, like sea to shore. 

Limbo is oh-so-quiet that Hiromitsu's gasp can be heard loud in the air, his clouded eyes clear, his dampened ears unclogged, and suddenly he can hear, suddenly he can see. 

The same happened to the other part of his soul. 

Conan steps away, and he also looks away, this sight is not for his eyes and yet he has to stay, he has to guide Hiromitsu back but for now… 

It hurts, weirdly enough it hurts, mostly because he had never heard it before. 

He had seen many sides of Furuya Rei, he had been stuck in various situations with that man, almost half of them are they trapped in horrifying situations and yet, no matter how much pain Furuya was in, Conan has never heard him cry. 

So this is how he sounds, huh? Hearing Furuya wails in Hiro's arms, hugging his soulmate’s body as tight as possible. His face is hidden in Hiromitsu’s shoulder, not being able to form proper words as he hiccups and heaves out nothing but painful, pitiful weeping. It hurts. It’s like watching a previously untouchable predator slowly dying in a trap, unable to free itself from the shackles of pain and loneliness that it is in. 

It's so incredibly jarring to see. 

Conan has been staring at Furuya's soul from the moment he slipped into a coma all those weeks ago, medically induced to save his life, he had just been sitting there… unmoving and unresponsive as expected, and yet, even such souls would usually still respond to Conan's presence. 

He had seen murder victims being reaped by his predecessor, they, while disoriented and confused, would sometimes still ask the reaper to spare them their lives, some would ask the reaper to take them away gently, quickly, some usually mumble gibberish, but Furuya did none of that. 

Conan tried everything, he tried to talk to him, tried to touch him, he would spend hours trying to speak to him and yet Rei, while still pretty much attached to his physical body, didn't respond.

And yet here he is, hugging his soulmate as tight as possible, weeping in his arms, crying so hard he has trouble breathing in between his loud hiccups and heaves. 

Hiromitsu's soul as well, while not having the ability to function as normal, seems to have regained enough function to at least speak to him. 

Again, Conan tries not to listen. 

‘Stay…’ 

“No, no, I want… With you. Want… Go, to go, with… you. Together, together…” 

‘Not yet… Stay… Wait.’

“I want, together. Us, together… two… of us…”

‘Three.’

“Three…?” 

‘Three… of us… Stay, for… us.’

Hearing them trying to communicate with each other is hard to hear, it saddens him so, thinking of how frustrating it must be, to have the person you want most in your arms, yet cannot make a single sentence to profess your love. 

Conan had told Hiromitsu enough. He knows that his time is limited, he knows that he's here for a purpose. 

“What… Hi… ro… Who is… the… the…?” 

‘Here, here, here…’

“Where…?” 

“Here.” 

Conan stands next to the bed and holds onto Rei's wrist, laying his hand on the dark shadow right next to him. The silhouette of a man sitting on the chair, who had fallen asleep from exhaustion, his hand holding Rei's physical body. 

The silhouette that has always been there, for Akai Shuichi has not left his side the moment he slipped into a coma, as if by some unknown force, he just cannot leave Furuya’s room. He barely moved, he would just sit there for days and days, unmoving as he held his hand, as he talked as if Furuya could hear him, holding onto hope that he actually could, reluctantly letting him go to eat or to relieve himself before walking back to his chair and holding his hand again. Dark circles were prominent around his eyes and his muscles cramping way too frequently. 

Akai will talk, he will massage his limbs, making sure Furuya doesn't get bed sores before sitting back down and simply holding his hand again. It's been going on for weeks, he hasn't moved in days, barely ever showered for that will take too long and he simply cannot leave Furuya alone for that long. 

He was unravelling at the seams, he had already lost one part of his soul and now he's losing the second one, the implication is lost in his human mind who is ignorant of that fact, but Conan knew that no mortal can handle such crushing pain. 

Apparently, according to his predecessor, Akai-san will go mad, he will fall into depression and turn clinically insane in the span of months if Furuya dies. 

The Reaper told him that it is as inevitable as the cycle of days, there will be no healing for a soul left behind. Conan had asked if there was one, just… one soul that didn't go mad and maybe Akai-san can be one of them? But the Reaper told him that the progression of madness would be as natural as breathing, he would be broken forever, alive, but only barely. And that was the biggest reason that pushed Conan into pulling this stunt in the first place. 

Furuya's soul is confused, understandably. And it's not like Conan can explain it to him, not in his condition right now… 

“You have to stay.” Conan tries anyway, “You've felt something missing all your life, Amuro-san… If you hold on just a little longer… That pain will cease in your next life, so please, please, hold on a little longer… He's here. He's here, Amuro-san.” 

Here? 

Here…?

Furuya looks at the silhouette on the bed, and then at Hiro yet again. Hiro squeezes his hand, communicating words that no voice can convey.

And then slowly, almost… reluctantly, Furuya nods. 

He… nods, and then he cries anew as Hiro lets him go…

He tries to leave the bed but he knows he can't. He wept and wept as Conan took his lover away, Hiro willingly following his shepherd. 

…

“Hiro…”

“Hi… ro…”

“Hi… ro…?”

Rei's fingers hover above the dark silhouette on the bed. 

“Hiro…?”

No. This isn't Hiro… but he feels identical to him. His lover. His soulmate. 

This person. His soul… A part… 

A part… of his soul…? 

Who… is this man…

He remembers. He, he… 

Akai… 

Shuichi…? 

=

Outside, both Hiro and Conan walk back through the path they took, Conan holds onto his hand not because Hiro needs guidance, but because he just… feels guilty. 

“Don't worry,” Conan said. “I'll return them to you, I swear it with my blood. But for now, you have to go back to sleep.” 

Hiromitsu says nothing, he merely nods, his heart aches after seeing his soulmate weeping, but his role here is done. 

They arrived at the same lampost, Conan giving him a small, sympathetic smile as red slowly blooms on the left side of Hiro's chest. His eyes close as the blood from his gunshot wound rapidly covers his whole being until he slowly dissipates, locked back in limbo into a quiet slumber. Waiting. 

=

Conan walks through the foggy road, his walk turns into a run as he rushes past the muted atmosphere that slowly, seamlessly, fills back up with sounds of voices, of car honks, of birds chirping and of life. He runs through the intersection the moment the light turns red, pushing past the countless silhouettes that rapidly turn into real people. 

Conan ran through the quiet limbo that had seamlessly turned into the world of the living yet again, full of life and vibrant colours. The realms that only Reapers such as himself can manoeuvre effortlessly.  

He needs to check something, NOW. 

He was basically out of breath when he arrived at the hospital. He impatiently pushes the elevator button again and again until one arrives at his floor, he presses the 5th floor button and waits. 

The moment the metal door parts, Conan runs towards room 503. 

He hears weeping. 

When he opens the door, a nurse is unwrapping the cuff of his sphygmomanometer and taking off the oximeter from his finger. Next to the bed, Akai is hunched over Furuya's body, hugging him as tight as possible as the blond blinks in confusion, squinting his eyes and groaning at the hospital's bright light. 

Wet laughter cuts through the tears as Akai pulls back to grab the remote and dims the overhead lamp. His hand caressed Rei's sore cheek. The nurse had taken out his breathing tube when the patient woke up and seemed to be stable enough after being observed frequently for an hour or so but Furuya's mouth and throat were still so incredibly sore that he couldn't speak. 

He doesn't have to though, his frown and hisses are enough to tell Akai how annoyed and uncomfortable he is! Having Akai there is not helping either!! 

Especially since he kept hugging him and kissing him and hugging him again. 

The doctor and nurses don't seem to mind since it keeps the patient happy (since it obviously does, anyone with eyes and ears can see it). She leaves the room after setting the emergency button next to Rei's hand. 

The two barely realized that Conan had arrived. 

Akai noticed him first. 

It feels so jarring, hearing Akai-san so excited, beckoning him closer and saying that Rei had woken up just a few hours prior! And that he can't really speak right now but he can still hear so don't worry. 

Rei is also looking at him, blinking a few times as if to signal to Conan that he is pretty much lucid and can move, but god, he is still so, so tired… 

Akai asks why he's here, not to be rude but it is 8 P.M. and there seems to be no reason for Conan to visit so late. 

But Conan just waves him off, saying that he just got back from Professor Agasa’s place and he was on the way home anyway. If the two men give it even a second of thought, they'd know that makes no damn sense, Conan's house is two stations away and the Professor is not even home right now, but Conan knows they don't have the capacity to think, not with how overwhelmed with relief they are. 

Conan also knows that he is unwelcomed, Akai-san is being friendly to him but deep down, he wants to be left alone with Furuya and so Conan grants his wish, he already got what he came for anyway. Just a simple confirmation, nothing more, since they don't remember anything anyway. 

Conan says that it's getting late and that he's so happy that Rei is now awake, he's going to share the news with everyone (he won't) and he and Ran-neechan will visit tomorrow (they won't.)

“I'm so glad you're awake, Amuro-san.” He says. “I mean it. I'm really, really glad.” 

I'm really glad that you're strong enough. I'm really glad that you were willing to try. I'm really glad that it worked.

I'm really glad that you’re not alone. 

Conan closed the door on his way out, and before it clicked closed, he could see how Akai leaned down to hug Furuya yet again, as if being separated for the short time when the nurse and Conan were inside was so excruciatingly long and the only relief from agony was to be as physically close as possible to his soulmate yet again. 

Conan knows the effects will shimmer down eventually, and that it's not their fault, but it does feel a tad bit dramatic. 

As he steps out of the hospital, his body shivers as an unnatural chill comes over him. 

His predecessor, the Reaper, has come to remind him that since his little personal mission is done, there's more work to do. 

Conan groans, walking down the road, hoping that he doesn't stumble into a murder scene on the way home. 

Yet, as he steps out of the train station, he sees the oh-so-familiar siren and blue and red lights seeping through the windows. 

Great. Another murder. Yet another mystery to solve so he could usher the lost soul of the victim into the afterlife. 

…This job is going to kill him. Is it worth it though? It is. At least for the few people he cares deeply for. At least for souls who deserve peace, like those three; doomed, fractured souls that Conan can only hope will be able to finally reach happiness in the next life, or the next, or the next, something he will make sure to happen as long as he breathes. 

Why? Why not.