puffski12

[lutzgocelly]

"it's cozy"

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 5 MATCH 8

Karlach propaganda:

“Sweetest girl ever. She could throw you across a room. She can burn down a house. But she just wants a hug and to be cared about and to live her life.” 

“Definitively overused phrase but she's a golden retriever she's so cute!”

“She's the perfect woman!!! She's so nice and cute and silly and strong and wow I love girls”

"Karlach is the champion slave of one of the Devils in a layer of hell, and was sold to her by someone she trusted, and on TOP of that she is an experiment with an engine for a heart and she knows she’s going to die and is in fairly constant pain but DESPITE that she is relentlessly positive and outgoing and silly because her spirit cannot be fucking crushed no matter WHAT"

Muriel propaganda:

"HE IS VERY CUTE AND GOOD

HE IS A TEXTBOOK GENTLE GIANT

NO REALLY HE IS SUCH A SWEETIE HE JUST CAN’T DO SOCIALIZATION

HIS FAMILIAR IS BIG OUPPY. SHE’S BIG FUCKING OUPPY!!!

CHICKENS LOVE HIM

ACTUALLY FUCK THAT. ALL ANIMALS LOVE HIM. HES LIKE IF SNOW WHITE WAS HUGE AND JACKED

HE LIKES TINY FLOWERS

HE WHITTLES TINY WOODEN CREATURES TO DECORATE HIS HOUSE AND GIVE TO HIS FRIENDS

HE’S LITERALLY JUST THE PERFECT MAN LIKE WHAT THE FUCK LOOK AT HIM???"

"my boy muriel deserves all the love. he is so gentle, and so very kind.

literally the first day you meet you get a scene where he’s wounded and afraid of being touched by you and you get to gently persuade him to let you clean his wounds. it’s like beauty and the beast but he never once lashes out at you.

you wake up and he feeds you eggs— HIS portion of his eggs!! he feeds you and gives you everything and treats you so kindly before he even begins to truly trust you.

he’s a former (unwilling) gladiator and absolutely hates violence and fighting. he is gentle on purpose and is so touch starved but also afraid of being touched because he’s both afraid of being hurt by you and afraid of hurting you. but he never does, not even once. he refuses to spar with you at first he doesn’t want to hurt you so much.

he is so shy and easily flustered and even basic kindness confuses him. i just want to shower him in all the love and support i can give him.

he is a kind, gentle giant who wants to protect you and also be protected by you. he wants you both to protect each other."

[lemonmelonboy]

Lonely for the First Time Ever

Jack x Reader

TW: Ian /j, Cheating, Loneliness

Content: GN!Reader

Word Count: 3317

Summary: My own fun take on Day 1 (?) of Somethings Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.

18+ Readers ONLY - Minors Do NOT Interact! Minors/Ageless Blogs will be Blocked!!!

I Do NOT give any permission for my work to be Reposted, Translated, or used with AI in ANY Capacity!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just dragged yourself out of your apartment after being called in to cover your flakey co-worker for possibly the millionth time that year. You surely missed your days off at this point, wishing to have just one every week rather than every other week. You sighed heavily walking down the sidewalk, as Jack trailed alongside you. It was cold and stormy, the rain was pelting the sidewalk and cars were passing by in a slum. It was such a peaceful walk.

You walked silently with Jack politely carrying your umbrella; you had protested but he very much insisted he take it for you. The rain soothed your racing mind, but that only made it so you thought slower about the things on your mind. You ran over what had just happened before you were rudely interrupted by your boss’s phone call. How Jack had held you so close, how you imagined kissing him for a brief moment, and how you wish you had. You mulled it over and over, unable to shake the image of the cuddly Jack. How Jack had looked at you with those love sick eyes. How bad you wanted to stay. Thoughts raced about why, which brought up feelings from the past few months. But as you slipped into your thoughts Jack gently bumped your arm, a playful event that he’d tend to do on your walks. It made you smile, he always knew how to make you smile, especially with little things like that. You look around trying to keep yourself in the present, but the pittering of the rain on the umbrella and sidewalk luls you back into thoughts of Jack and your loneliness.

“Sunshine?” Jack's voice cooed kindly. You looked up to him, suddenly pulled back.

“Hm?” you looked around as you realized you almost walked straight by your work. A soft embarrassed blush works its way across your cheeks.

You slip into the door, walking to the back to set your things down, ignoring Barry’s comments on how thankful he is you could come in and how absolutely sorry he is for having to do it. When you come back from the back of the store you find he had already left. You sigh as you find yourself alone in the shop, going through your list of menial tasks for the day. You work quietly as Jack hangs around, quietly helping when he can. It's weird to have him be so comfortable with how quiet you’re being. Usually he does anything to try to fill the silence, like whistling a small tune. However the man who stood before you now would only give you an encouraging smile whenever you looked at him and never said a word, not until you spoke up.

“Jack..” You sighed his name as you relaxed against the counter having finished all the tasks you needed to. You didn’t even have anything to tell, least not in a way you knew how. He perked up like a puppy being offered a treat.

“Yes, sunshine?” he asks sweetly. You looked at him and could feel your body warm as you saw his happy face and his kind eyes looking at you almost needingly. You mull over a single thought in your head and he can see you are resisting saying what you were thinking. “Is everything alright?” his happy look slowly fades to concern. Then he looks away with a soft blush on his cheeks. “It's okay to want that.. to want to be wanted..” he said breathily and quietly, almost like he was embarrassed by his own words.

“Wh-what are you saying?'' How did he know? You were sure you were only thinking to yourself, and you weren’t a vocal thinker.

“I just… sometimes people are like that for you, and it's okay to have a person you want to be with all the time… to want them to want you… and wanting them..?” He ended it like a question, almost like he wanted you to just admit it all to him right then and there.

“Wha- I- '' You didn’t know what you should say to him. You were so embarrassed at the implication that he was who you wanted- or the implication you wanted someone else.

“Do you… want me?” he asked, quieter than ever. He was still pretty blunt with it- looking at you with a pair of hopeful puppy eyes that made your body scream for you to just say “yes” and let him hold you. “I know it's hard to say- but I can help you learn what words to use to express these feelings.” He gently urges, moving closer to you reaching out almost as if he was ready to hug you, and hold you and possibly never let go.

“But- I- it's just that’s- you can’t just ask something like that- I-“ He moves closer, his hands resting on the counter behind you, he makes a point of not touching you yet, but wanting to get closer to you. A warmth spreads over your face into a sweet blush as you figure out how to answer. You felt in that moment that you wanted him to hold you, to grab you the best he could.

“I want to be there for you- whether you want me like that or not.. I’ll be there for you however you need me- I just want what’s best for you- What will make you happy-'' suddenly your phone starts ringing, interrupting Jack and causing him to step away. A soft frustrated look comes over his face as he looks away. You take up the cell phone, glad to have been interrupted right then, afraid if he continued your heart would have given out.

“Oh- Uh- I'll be- back!”

Jack nods slightly, “It might be important- so- don’t worry alright? I’ll still be here when you get back!” He said encouragingly as he let you walk past him.

You really shouldn’t be taking calls at work, but you didn’t care. You also didn't care if the call was spam and you picked it up without checking the name plastered on the screen. You quickly ducked to the kitchen camera blind spot.

“Hello?” You spoke with that pitch in your voice encouraging the person calling to speak. You were hopeful it was something that would take your mind off everything.

“You picked up-“ an all too familiar voice came through, in awe, and dripping with desperation. You froze, the last person you ever wanted to hear, especially with how your day was going. Ian. “Hey..” He spoke again, trying to fill in your quiet response. You hadn’t forgotten about him, but you hadn’t expected he’d call you while you were at work. “Are you alright?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine..” You could hear him sigh softly in relief as you responded.

“I-I’ve missed you… and your voice..” he almost whimpered into the phone.

“What- what do you need Ian. I’m- at work, you can’t be calling me like this” You asked quietly, surprise still filling your tone more than any anger or demandingness.

“I-I know,, I didn't expect you to pick up! I-I’m sorry…” Ian said, he sounded so sad, and you do feel a little bad. He was your life long friend, and what felt like even longer lover. But he hurt you, and objectively you know you shouldn’t feel sorry for him, or how you treat him.

“You’ve said.. And I don’t forgive you Ian.. You know I am still mad at you.” There’s silence from him. You bite your quivering lip, pushing back a sob, thinking he must be feeling the same. “I-” You huff out, collecting yourself before you continue. “I’m trying to move on.” You say, a little sad hearing yourself say it.

“You’re- You’re what...” you can hear his heart break more in his voice, and you might’ve felt it just a bit yourself. “You’re not,, with someone right? Because… I am trying. I am going to fix this… And-” You cut him off

“Ian... Its not your problem whether I am with someone or not… We aren’t… We are not us anymore. So- what I do isn’t any concern for you...” You speak in a soft frustrated tone, you try to give him patience especially since you’ve trapped yourself into this conversation.

“But... can't it? Be, my problem? I-I need to make this up to you… You’re… All I’ve had since we were little- and… We’ve been through so much I- and I know this is my fault- and I need to fix this. Please. Let me fix this… Fix us…” he begged, and somewhere in you, you could feel the need to let him, to just give him the time to “fix” what he did, just so you could have him back. So you could feel less lonely. But no, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he cheated on you again.

Breaking up with Ian was just as big of a loss for you as it was for him. You both lost someone you never thought you would. And God you had loved him. And who knows, maybe you still did, just a little. He took your silence as an urge for him to continue making his case. “I know I can make it up to you... I promise... I miss you so much- I-I want you so badly. And- I’ll be there soon to show you that what I’m saying is true '' he ends his statement with a happy hum, almost proud. You couldn’t take it anymore, you could hear customers in the front of the clowny yogurt shop come in, chatting modestly among themselves

“Goodbye... Ian.” you say, colder than you would’ve thought you could. You hung up before he could beg you to stay and talk to him more. You take a few slow calming breaths and turn to leave, noticing Jack standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Jack…” you mutter to yourself, afraid he might’ve overheard the call. He looks to you with a concerned kindness, one that he tends to give you whenever you notice Ian called you and left another message. You look away from Jack and walk quickly past him into the store, slapping on your customer service face and attitude.

Greeting the group of boys mulling in the front of the store. They seem preoccupied going through the yogurt flavors, which unfortunately gives you the time to think through things again. Your mind drifts, thinking of memories of Ian, clearer now than they had been that morning. One memory in particular, it was how he had looked when you kicked him out after finding out he had cheated on you. After running that memory in your mind a few times the memory of meeting Jack slowly started playing too. It hadn’t been long after Ian had left either, and you still weren’t completely sure where he came from. If he was a hallucination, could it have been your loneliness that made you imagine this pretty clown man to befriend you? Maybe that was why he was so attached to you? But, Jack certainly felt real, everytime he touched you, it felt real and so very safe. Maybe you did want him? Your thoughts were broken by a shy dark haired boy who stood in front of you. He couldn’t have been much younger than you, and he sported a gray and black shirt with a large black coat.

“We’re ready- to uh- pay- whenever you are?” he seemed nervous, a light blush spreading over his cheeks as he looked away from you, shifting nervously on his feet. One of the guys in the group set down the last of the three yogurt cups onto the scale, and you finish up their transaction. As two of the three guys start to leave the guy in the dark clothing lingers, glancing slyly at you, trying not to stare but also seeming to also want to admire you. “So- uh- you- work here often?” His blush deepens and he looks away again, clearly embarrassed. You can't help but be confused, annoyed and a little humored by his awkwardness.

“Yeah- unfortunately” you reply, attempting to give a light hearted air to your words.

“C-cool- Cool.” he pushes out, almost relieved you didn't call him an idiot. He seems at a loss for words now too, wanting to continue the conversation but feeling too awkward. He makes small noises before he takes his frozen yogurt and walks out. Once he’s gone you give a sigh and a light smile lingers on your face as you think about how silly that interaction was.

The rain continues to pound outside and your day drones on uneventfully and lacking any customers. Soon enough it was time to close and you did so quickly and happily. By the time you were finished with your last sweep you almost skipped out of the store. Jack smiled softly to you as you locked the door, him holding your umbrella once again. Once you were ready you turned around and the pair of you quietly walked home. He nudges you again about half way through the walk, his familiar gentle motion to let you know he was still around.

Once home you quickly kick off your shoes and flop onto your couch with a heavy sigh. You relax with your eyes closed and a gentle sigh. God you needed this seat.

“Hey.. sunshine?” Jack's soft cooing voice sang as you felt his weight and warmth settle in next to you. “Can I ask- who’s Ian..?” he asked softly. You rolled your head up to look at Jack.

“He’s..” Your gaze falls away from the kind caring clown. “An ex..” You gently hug yourself as you feel yourself become warm from all your emotions washing through you. You wanted to talk about him with Jack. You wanted to get it out. You haven’t really told anyone about what happened. Jack wraps a comforting arm around you after seeing you close in on yourself. His other hand rests on your arms, encouraging you to open up. You swallow your emotion like its pill stuck in your throat, then you continue. “He was all I had since we were kids.. Best friends forever- least we were supposed to be..” You felt your lips gently quiver before shaking your head to try to push it away. “and,, as we had gotten older we became something.. More. I don't think we ever officially labeled it- but we both had the mutual understanding that- we were who the other wanted for,, forever..” You huff softly as you feel the sadness hit you harder than before and Jack pulls you into him. He hugs you just to let you know he’s listening and understanding, to let you know you’re safe.

“So why does it seem like you’re so upset with him.. if you,,” he lingers before continuing “if you.. love him” that question hung in the air for a while. After you don’t respond for a while Jack gently leads your head to look up to him. “I’m sorry if that was too much, sunspot. If you can’t-” You shake your head softly, almost nuzzling into his hand.

“No- no it’s okay Jack,,” you mumble while looking up to him with sad eyes. “Ian.. cheated on me..” You mutter before turning away, almost ashamed to admit it. He pulls you back, running his thumb over your cheek to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers sweetly to you. He was making you feel so cared for and safe and you craved every touch he gave.

“And…” you felt your eyes slowly start to water. “He was all I had for so long... that when I made him leave I… became so very lonely.” You almost whimper to Jack, trying your best not to cry as you spoke. “I miss him so much Jack...” you whisper as you hide your watery eyes against his hand. “Then you came and you were so safe and I'm afraid I don’t feel genuine enough- like I should for you… or if I just feel these things for you because I can’t for Ian.” Tears pour from your eyes as you bite your lip, your voice and body shaking as you fight back sobs. Jack kindly rubs your back and swipes away the tears running down your cheeks.

“And because of that- I'm- afraid I make myself more lonely by pushing you away because I- don't wanna hurt you…but I still probably do hurt you..” You shake your head looking away and leaning against Jack's chest. He softly shushes you and hugs you tightly as you gently sob into him. “And you're so open, and honest, and kind and I don’t know if I’m completely able to feel all of this emotion as much as I want to- just… feel you hold me like this” you whimper as you cling against Jack, gripping his shirt tightly in your hands.

“It’s okay... I’ll be here for you however you need me… always” he promises you, resting his cheek against the top of your head and gently nuzzling. “You don’t have to tell me what you don’t feel you can,, you don’t have to do anything- feel anything you don’t want to feel.” He gives you a firm squeeze as you slowly calm down “You’re perfect…you didn’t deserve what they did to you- but it's okay to feel bad… or even miss them...” His words are like honey, slowly creeping into all your painful thoughts and soothing them, lessening their raw, burning pain. Being heard, letting it out, had helped tremendously. Especially with how Jack was holding you, close and warm.

“I’m sorry...” You murmur, feeling Jack’s hand on your back slowing. “I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you,, or disappointed you or burdened you or- '' Jack sits up and grabs your face gently. Holding you on either side with his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“None of that sunspot.” He said firmly, his eyes full of nothing but determined care. “You. Are. Perfect.” he says again “You are so amazing- Please never say any of that again” he demanded, his thumb running over your cheek. You look at him with adoration and understanding. You were so close. You nod softly and nuzzle into his hands, soaking up his sweet comforting warmth.

“Jack...” you whisper before looking up to him again with your eyes lingering on his lips. Before you know it, your body draws itself into Jack’s more and your lips find their way to pressing up against his. You feel him push back against your kiss, his hands holding you firm against him. You reach up and gently take one of his hands to lace your fingers together. You felt so overwhelmed with love at that moment. You didn’t want to pull away, but you felt Jack’s lips slowly retreat. You open your eyes and spot Jack’s deep red cheeks and fond eyes looking at you.

“I'm so glad you’re feeling better sunshine.” He says sweetly, and you instinctively nuzzle into the hand against your cheek, turning your head and gently giving it a kiss. That only seems to fluster Jack more. He pulls you against him again, similar to how the pair of you were seated earlier that morning, but this time you didn’t hesitate to kiss Jack as soon as you were situated. The pair of you layed there, trading soft and passionate pecks. Jack occasionally whispers loving praises to you, and soon, you fall asleep in exhaustion against his chest.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Could I have something for eyeless jack with an s/o who's a night owl and has a chronically FUCKED up sleep cycle

I don't know if this is what you were looking for, but I wanted to stay true to Jack's opinions and general character

Jack himself is mostly nocturnal, so on one side, this does give you a lot more time to spend with him each day, which he appreciates because he loves you and he tries to spend as much time with you as he can each day. However, on the other side, he greatly worries for your health and well-being, especially speaking as a doctor, he wants you to take care of yourself, and skipping out on sleep every day is not the way to go about that. Due to this, Jack ends up trying to persuade you into a much better sleep schedule most of the time.

Jack will start with a direct approach first; asking for you to kindly and helpfully work with him so he can try and get you on track to a better sleep schedule. He would greatly prefer that you at least give an honest attempt at trying to improve your sleep schedule, as it would greatly upset him if you continue not trying to improve it at all, and could be a deal breaker in the long run unless you essentially just shift your entire existence to just be nocturnal like him because he doesn't want to date someone that doesn't care about their health. If you do agree to try and work with him, then Jack will be quite happy, and even if you don't make immediate progress, he's just happy to work with you to try to get better. Baby steps, one at a time is all that matters to him. 

Jack will start by trying to get your sleep schedule just a bit better. If you're staying up until 3 or 4 in the morning each night, he starts gradually bumping you back to 2, and then 1, and then 12, although he could handle 1 just fine if you can get there. The other thing is, he'd start getting you up earlier. Jack goes to bed about 8:30-9:30 each day, and so he would wake you up before he goes to bed every morning. He tries to regulate your schedule so your body can get more used to that. Although, of course, he always allows you to sleep in on days off or weekends, that way you are still getting a bunch of rest you might miss out on. He just does little things, like no devices 30 minutes to an hour before bed, lights off or dimmed, and just laying in there with you, cuddling up with you and talking with you as you get drowsy. If you enjoy aromatherapy, he'll introduce you to some products he likes for that, or if you would like to try out melatonin for just a couple of months to see how that treats you, he'll help you get some of that too (although he closely monitors your intake on that so you don't take too much, as it's meant to be taken short term). Jack is not expecting immediate results. He just wants you to be more mindful of your body and your health, and even if you can only get into bed an extra hour, an hour and a half earlier than you were, that's still progress and it makes him happy. He loves you dearly, and as happy as it would make him have your company all night, he knows that humans can't do things like that as it's not healthy, and as a doctor, it's something he doesn't want to encourage. 

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Little Red Rapscallion

Gender Neutral Reader x Jack Howl Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: 'Dear Evil, Overlord, Patron. Please stop sicking your demon guard dog on me. I'm only trying to help. Kind Regards, Little Red Ridinghood'

A/N: Thank you so much to @insideous-beez for the brain rot, which became brain fertilizer, and eventually a functional story; This one is a bit darker than the other installments due to the Warlock/Evil Deity goodness, so there is a bit more horror here!

[PART 1]

Your grandmother had always told you to mind your manners when it came to the creatures who made the forest their home.

Or, well. That was a lie. Many lies, really. If you wanted to be nitpicky.

Firstly, the old crone who lived deep within the borough of the cursed trees wasn’t actually your grandmother. At least, not in the biological sense that seemed to matter most within your little, provincial, town. She was just a kindly, wrinkled, turnip of a woman who found you wandering the mudflats one day and decided she liked your spunk and general lack of self-awareness. She patted your head, served you strange, bubbling, teas laced with sweet magics, and always returned you to your fretful parents by sundown. And so, she was Grandma. Even if calling her that aloud made your parents go nearly green and had the local shopkeepers crossing themselves and spritzing you with Holy Water.

Secondly, Grandma had never told you to keep to your manners. Usually, she encouraged the opposite. (‘Why not curse them, huh?’ she’d complain loudly. ‘They’re thieving bastards, the lot of them.’ ‘Grandma,’ you’d sigh. ‘The street cleaners are just doing their job. They didn’t mean to steal your dead racoons.’) The idea of her demanding you act ‘proper’ and ‘kind’ was damn near laughable. But what she did enforce upon you with all the firmness of a world-weary teacher was the concept of not fucking with that which ought not be fucked with.

And the sprawling, Shaftland Forest was not to be fucked with.

It had always been a great, creeping, thing. The trees would groan and whisper as you passed, and when their sharp branches tangled in your cloak like grasping fingers, it never felt like an accident. The animals that lived beneath those trees were even stranger—wild, large, beasts with glinting eyes and an arcane mysticism about them that left icicles in their tracks even on summer days, or tangled the undergrowth into something that moved.

The people of your village did not enter the Shaftland Forests. They put up signs, and wards, and spun cautionary tales to every traveler who dared step even a single foot into their teeny, terrified, homestead.

You visited regularly. Because you were half-stupid at least, and because Grandma lived in those woods. And while she’d cautioned you about treating her habitat with care, she’d promised ages ago that so long as you were sweet to the forest, it would forever be sweet on you too.

‘There is a great power in these trees,’ she’d hum to you, as she stirred a simmering pot that looked to be filled with the blood of… something you probably shouldn’t think too hard about. ‘You would have been a lovely gift for it, you know.’ She laughed under her breath. It didn’t sound like a joke. ‘But you were too precious to ruin like that. So he decided we ought to keep you.’

You had no idea who ‘he’ was supposed to be, but you always made sure to shower the forest with compliments. As thanks for not using you as whatever being a, uhm, lovely gift entailed. ‘Oh what nice leaves you have,’ you told many a tree. ‘And what large petals have bloomed today,’ to all the flowers. You’d always been safe in these woods—sheltered beneath a bubble of golden affection and the soft scents of the richest perfumes. The forest always welcomed you with open branches and the coo of creaking bark.

Which is why the twisty field of black thorns blocking your usual pathway gave you pause.

You reached out a finger and prodded one of the sharp points. It bit into your skin with the clear intention of drawing blood, before swaying away at the last moment to twine loosely around your wrist.

Huh. How peculiar.

“May I pass?” you asked the thorns.

The shivering web of ebony tightened along the path and you frowned.

“May I pass, please?” you tried again.

The briar patch seemed to heave with a gusty, angry, sigh. You were about to reach forward and try your luck one more time when a deep, rumbling, snarl curled out from the shadows beyond. Out of the sea of roiling darkness and dainty thorns strode a great, white, wolf. It bared its teeth at you in an expression that was entirely unpleasant.

Immediately you held up your hands in placation and took a wide step backwards. The wolf just kept growling at you like you’d murdered its entire family or something else equally egregious. It skulked forward soundlessly, ears pinned flat.

“My apologies,” you said, dipping your chin in a gentle bow. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just trying to use this path to—”

The wolf lunged at you with a near roar, and you just barely managed to roll out of the way with a shriek. The thing landed hard in the dirt where you’d just been not a moment prior, and it swung its great, fanged, maw in your direction.

“Apologies, old one,” you tried again, just as Grandma had taught you. “But I really just—”

The wolf snapped, nearly taking off your fingers, and you folded over like a turtle that had been upended on its back—rolling around helplessly with your limbs flailing wildly as you went. The sharp crack of your head against the ground left your brain rattling around like dried beans in a can, and you could taste the copper sting where you’d bitten down into your tongue. The failed cartwheel had set you back a solid fifteen feet from the wood’s edge, and the wolf huffed at you—a stupidly pointed ‘stay away’ if you’d ever seen one. It glared at you with glowing, golden, eyes for a long moment before melting back into the shadows.

You spat out the cocktail of mud and blood pooling along your tongue, and wiped angrily at your sore chin. The forest had never denied you before. So maybe it wasn’t your lovely, lonely, trees that were sending you away. Maybe it was just this stupid wolf. Maybe the beast was trying to make a stand—to usurp the role of whatever spirit had ruled over this dark land for so long now. You grumbled and made your way back to your feet. It was fine. Your forest was strong. It would never lose to such a stupidly fluffy opponent. You’d just have to try again tomorrow.

The next day you armed yourself with a small arsenal of goodies. Daggers, ropes, armloads of talismans, and kindling, and rations. You hoisted your bow across your back and carefully plucked at the soft fletching of the arrows. The feathers buzzed beneath your fingers, and after a moment of uneasy hesitance, you cautiously replaced the weapon where it hung over your bed. Grandma had never liked the idea of you carrying weapons in the forest (‘it invites troublemakers’ she’d warned), but if something really had gone wrong in her woods, then it was better to worry about asking forgiveness than permission. And surely you could argue for a dagger. The bow… With its weighted arcana and strange, dissonant, strength felt like something dangerous.  

So you apologized to the rippling thorns before cutting them back with swift, precise, strokes of your blade and starting down that familiar path to Grandma’s cottage.

You made it about fifty yards before one of your talismans began to ping worryingly. The tingling thrum along your side was just enough of a warning to keep you from being mauled outright.

The White Wolf lunged from between the trees and you skittered out of the way of its attack. For such a huge creature, it was so silent. And its gleaming, downy, coat should have more than given away its position in the gloom. There must have been some kind of magic to it—something old, and ancient, that let the beast slip through the darkness unseen.

The Wolf situated itself firmly in the center of the path, hackles raised and shoulders hunched like it was readying itself to pounce.

“I need to get through,” you told it, firm, and raised one of the Protective talismans. After a heavy moment you scowled and bit out, “Please.”

The Wolf snarled and propelled itself forward. It latched its overlarge teeth in the fabric of your red cloak and quickly began to drag you to the ground. You frantically flailed about, and just managed to avoid those glinting fangs enough to thrust the talisman up into the beast’s ribs with a heavy smack. The charm lit with a brilliant, amethyst, gleam and sparks shot through the air. You let out a triumphant, ‘ah HA!’ And then all that magic fizzled out like a dying candle. You gaped in horror as the ‘one hundred percent foolproof, don’t you worry about that child’ Protective talisman fluttered to the ground like a discarded bit of newspaper.

“Oh, shit,” you croaked, as your cloak was shredded between the wolf’s canines with a horribly shrill wriiiiiip.

You sprinted like a bat out of Hell, tearing through the undergrowth and only just managing to collapse beyond the border of the tree line before the wolf could snap its jaws around your ankles. You curled your limbs protectively up beneath you, and watched through a veil of cold sweat as it paced along the foliage—leaving no tracks in its wake.

Fine, you thought bitterly. Two can play at this game.

The next morning you walked North, beyond the only safe paths you knew. Carefully, you began to scuttle your way up the nearest, gnarled, tree. The bark groaned and rattled beneath your fingers, as if disquieted. But there were no trails of white fur yet darting about the underbrush, so you offered the tree a hasty apology before climbing higher.

From there, it was only a matter of cautiously hopping from branch to branch. Normally when you’d tried ridiculous feats of stupidity like this in the past, the trees seemed more than eager to help you along—practically reaching out with their branches to catch you in their willowy, wooden, fingers. But they seemed stiff today, testy. The leaves themselves seemed to complain as you went, and you shushed them as politely as you could.  

There was a sharp bark from beneath you, and you looked down to see the Wolf circling your perch in a frantic, pacing, dance.  

“Hello!” you beamed, perfectly, poisonously, pleasant. “Nice to see you too!”

The Wolf sneered, lips curling up into a tight, tense, bow over its fangs.

You leaned forward, keeping a hand securely looped into your roost.

“Aww,” you cooed. “Is it too hard to climb up here with those big, fluffy, paws?” you mocked, wiggling your own fingers contentedly. “Bet someone really wishes they had opposable thumbs, huh?”

And then, like you were being smited by God Himself, the branch beneath your feet cracked clean in half, and you plummeted to the ground bellow with a harrowing screech. Naturally, you landed right at the wolf’s aforementioned stupid, fluffy, paws. Its great head lowered, and you could feel the heat of its breath as it growled into your face.

With a pathetic little ‘eep!’, the talisman tucked into the back of your boot burst into life and you flickered like a janky illusion. You stumbled to your feet a dozen or so yards away, fighting the urge to double over and barf. Slipping through planes was unpleasant at the best of times, let alone when under actual fucking duress.

The Wolf blinked its wide, golden, eyes at the empty space beneath its paws, and then whipped its head in your direction like a blood hound. You pushed yourself upright with the help of the very tree who had betrayed you so thoroughly, and began your hasty retreat.

You crashed through a curtain of thorns and out into the open with a gasp.

You rolled forward like the world’s most inelegant acrobat and came to a skidding halt in the dirt. You sat up with an achy cough, dislodging muck, and rocks, and leaves from your windpipe.

The Wolf prowled behind you—its glare a set of golden pinpricks in the gloom.

“What is your problem?!” you wailed.

The wolf tossed its head, like rolling its eyes wouldn’t have been enough. And snapped at you with another one of those pissy, bitten off, growls.  

“You know what?” you seethed, swinging back onto your knees to jab a finger at it accusatorily. “Fuck you!”

The thing had the absolute gall to snort at you before turning to return to its ceaseless patrol.

By the time you hauled yourself back to your family home, you must have looked an absolute mess. No one bothered to stop you when you practically clawed your way up the stairs and into your small bedroom. Though to be fair, no one really bothered to stop you for anything anymore. Not since an old women with too much spare time and not nearly enough light in her eyes had decided that you were a child to be treasured.

You grabbed your bow off the wall and slung it over your back. The sleek, silvery, wood hummed beneath your fingers. It had been a gift, one whose very existence you stalwartly refused to question. The weapon was finer than anything that could have come from your village’s blacksmith, or honestly probably any human craftsman. It was weightless. It was too heavy. It sang in your hands. It was not a token to be bestowed lightly. But… Well. Whoever it had belonged to before, it was yours now.

And you were going to shoot that goddamn Wolf right in the ass.

On the fourth day of your apparent banishment from the Shaftland Forest, you stormed those woods like a would-be conqueror. The silver bow keened beneath your palms, and you held a thin, spiked, arrow knocked and at the ready. Your nemesis found you in no time at all, and you bared your teeth at the stupid, fucking, mutt before it had the chance.

“One last time,” you said, drawing your bow as tight as you could. “Let me pass, beast. Or I will go through you.”

The wolf’s hackles were raised, but the snarl had slipped off its face. It dug its claws into the dirt, and you watched something like surprise work its way across the thing’s regal features. Its golden glare flickered from you, to the bow, and back again, like it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

“I have business in these woods,” you demanded. And then, petulantly—because you just wanted to know that your stupid, devil worshipping, turnip of a grandmother was okay, and you were so fucking fed up with this garbage—you stomped at the ground and shouted, “And I was here first! So scram, you overgrown Pomeranian!”

The Wolf’s ears drooped, and something like a tremor worked its way down its spine. But then the thing was shaking its giant head like it was surfacing from beneath a pool of water, and it straightened its posture with a rumbling growl.

“Fine,” you snapped, and unleased the first arrow. It whizzed past your fingertips with a thready, shrill, fwoom faster than you could track. The booming force of it shocked you enough to have you shooting wide, and you watched that pin-thin arrow hit a tree trunk and sink all the way through to the other side.

The Wolf rushed forward when you went to reload, fur standing on end like you’d run it through with a bolt of lightning. It tackled you bodily to the ground with a yelp, and you wheezed as the air was knocked out of your lungs in one, fell, swoop. The bow tumbled out of your hands and you scrabbled for it wildly. And then the beast lunged for the bright red of your hood, as it seemed so keen to do in each of your past scuffles. But maybe it was done playing with you. Or maybe it just wasn’t expecting you to flail around so terribly. Because its garish fangs bore down past the soft, billowy, fabric of your cloak and tore straight into the meat of your arm instead.

You gasped and weren’t entirely able to swallow down the sharp shriek of pain that bubbled up and out of your throat. The wolf reared back in shock, its mouth stained red. It immediately ducked back in close, and then away, and then in again. Like it wasn’t sure what to do. The stalwart resolve from earlier was gone—replaced entirely by a bumbling sort of panic that had your head swimming more than the blood loss.

You tucked your arm in close, feeling the tattered remains of shredded fabric curling beneath new, warm, wetness. The Wolf cautiously nosed forward, but when you flinched it reared back like you’d struck it. The beast stepped pointedly away, and then began to pace frantically back and forth. Occasionally it would stop, like it was going to move in close again. But then its pointy ears would press stiff and flat atop its head and it would skulk away all over again.

Whatever, you seethed silently, jerkily ruffling through your bag for some of the Healing talismans you knew were tucked away at the bottom. If the monster felt some kind of weird guilt for taking a chomp out of you when it’d already been doings its damndest to maul you for the past four days straight, that was its problem.

It was taking you longer to unearth the talismans than you would have liked, and your hand was really starting to shake in earnest. The Wolf whined high and miserable in its throat, and you rationally decided that it would be a terrible, petty, idea to waste what little composure you had left just to tell it to fuck right off.

The horrid mess of crimson had begun to seep its way along your skin—dripping down your wrist to plop against the damp, mossy, earth with an echoing plip plip plip that was not unlike the fall of slow, fat, spring rain. The air around you seemed to grow heavier with it—the trees swaying at their roots and the dark, shriveled, flowers straining against their stems to get a taste. The Wolf’s golden gaze flicked around the grove cautiously, and you watched its black nose twitch in obvious discomfort. You swore you could see hands—dozens, hundreds of inky appendages reaching out from the shadows. Fingers twisting up into claws like they meant to grab onto you and dig in, never letting go. The Wolf settled itself at your back like a brick wall, snarling doggedly at the wispy talons. The beast was so large it practically enveloped the entirety of you, and you had to fight the delirious, dizzy, urge to lean back into its impractically soft fur.

“Hey! Are you alright over there?”

Both you and the Wolf jolted in surprise as a group of adventurers plowed their way through the trees. The Wolf’s already distressed expression twisted into something nearly manic and it roared—putting all those ferocious teeth on display.

“Woah!” one of them yelped, crashing to a halt and dragging their friends to a stop beside them. “What the fuck?!”

The others all looked equally startled, hands settling heavily on their weapons. And while right now Mister Wolfy wasn’t outright nomming on you or your limbs, there was a still a steady stream of blood trailing from the wound near your shoulder—a set of very obvious teeth marks sitting stark and red against the rest of you.

“We heard a scream,” another spoke up. Then, pointedly raising the sharp edge of his sword, asked, “Is this your companion, Ranger?”

‘Ranger?’ you blinked, confused, before remembering the bow still sitting in the dirt by your feet. Before you could respond, the Wolf lurched forward over your shoulder. It didn’t leave you—didn’t stray from its steadfast position at your hind—but it pushed its gaping, angry, maw as close to the group as it could. The trio reeled back as the monster snapped, and snarled, and nearly vibrated out of its skin with rage. But… no. Something wasn’t quite right. As viciously angry as all that harsh barking sounded, there was something very, very disquieting about it. Something strained, something afraid.

The one with his sword raised stepped forward, the others moved to follow. And then they were gone.

You blinked, shocked silly. There had been people there—not a second before. You were sure of it. What the fuck was happening?—

And then there was a discordant scream from somewhere deeper in the woods. Distant, but close. Like there were arcane tricks distorting the way of the world. Keeping you separate from the horrible, grinding, shrieking noises while… whatever was happening carried on—not a dozen yards away. Cloaked in shadows and rotten, violet, petals like how a parent might gently close a curtain around a child’s bed at night.  You watched in half-awe, half-horror as seeping, purple, miasma leached from the trees and into the air. It chased the intruders with vicious intent. You could feel the sharp, dark, heat of it prickling along your skin, but when that swirl of near-black enchantments made its way to you, it slipped past you like smoke—leaving only a faint trace of awful, coppery, perfume against your clothes.  

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” a deep, miserable, voice echoed in your head, and you jerked around in shock to see the Wolf staring at you with heavy, gold eyes.

“Did… Are you…” you trailed off, swallowing. Not sure how to even begin asking what you wanted to ask.

The Wolf sighed, bone deep and weary.

“I tried so hard to keep everyone away,” its voice rumbled in the back of your mind. “Why did you have to be so stubborn?”

“This is my forest, too,” you said after a long moment, fingers digging into the dusty material of your pants. “What’s wrong with it? What happened?”

The Wolf stared at you, quiet and considering. And then it lumbered to its feet with a defeated sort of slouch.

“Come, then, Little Red One,” it huffed, and swished its tail against your back. “I’ll show you.”

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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[prettyboypistol]

Do you have first time sleeping togther/hooking up headcanons for TNG characters? I was about to be like 'I'd love in particular to hear about...' but then listed about half the TNG cast (of multiple genders, but feel free to stick to male characters if you want) because I am exceptionally thirsty lol. I do personally have a strong preference for top!M!reader, but go with what's in your heart

First Time With the TNG Boys! || Star Trek TNG x Top!M!Reader +18

(Worf, Data, Will, Picard, Geordi, Lore, Q)

Worf

Boy you'll have to WORK to top Worf. Even if you are bigger than him (somehow?? mans is 6'3" and jacked). He'd love the wrestle for domination and how you pin him down and kiss the back of his neck as you taunt him playfully.

He's into biting, fighting as foreplay, and brat taming/authority. Although, if he's bottoming, he likes following directions and being praised for being a good soldier.

Bite this mf as he's jerking off, praise him for looking so stunning, Tell him he's the best you've ever fucked by far and he'll blow the biggest load of your life.

Data

Would let you top if you asked him, honestly. He's never been with another man before and the logging of information would be rather useful.

Data would enjoy you praising him, asking for consent multiple times, and generally treating him gently and kindly. He's not the rough and tumble type, that would require a minimum 3 more days of research and an "uncomfortable" talk with Troi about BDSM and the psycho-sexual aspects of it.

CALL. THIS. MAN. BEAUTIFUL. He will not know what to do with himself as you fuck him slowly and praise him for being the most amazing man on the Enterprise.

William Riker

Would be a little hesitant to let you top, but would eventually say to hell with fear and let you hit.

Has a bit of a fear of "liking it too much", because even in the far future, internalized homophobia is still a thing. Especially for a "ladies' man" like Riker. He's not too comfortable with his sexuality just yet.

Tell him he's doing good, give him open communication and a place to state his worries, and he'll be screaming your name before you're halfway inside.

Picard

Now this man is hesitant taking it up the ass- not only because he's old an worried about being sore, but was around during the pre-crackdown of homophobia in the starship workplace, when subtle homophobia was commonplace. He's worried about what the other crew will think of him if they found out about your activities together.

Assurance goes a long way with Picard, also directing him with a massive amount of respect and understanding. (he'll never tell you this, but calling him "sir" really gets him going.)

Geordi

Honestly? the chillest of them all when you ask to top your first time together. like genuine "Yeah sure, that's fine". And it's obvious this isn't his first bottom rodeo.

Likes when you dirty talk to him tbh, it's a real engine-revver when you whisper in his ear that fucking him is all you've been thinking about for weeks.

Geordi especially likes hearing about your fantasies that involve him- tell him your wet dreams!! Please!!

Lore

This man is a total slut for being degraded/domineered. I mean seriously, look at that lil guy! He's a brat just begging to be tamed!

Push him around, show him who's boss, and roleplay about being a cop and a roguish, sassy criminal.

Despite his secret obsession with being used like a fucktoy, Lore also loves being worshipped and praised on a genuine level- and on a superficial one too, to set the record straight.

Q

Q is the most excited to bottom, offering his ass at a moment's notice the second you suggest topping for your first time together.

Granted, he has no idea what he's doing, so you'd have to guide him. He likes being teased and being squirmy, so watch out for that.

What really gets Q off is the illusion of being restrained. Cuffs, ropes, anything- even you pressing him into the mattress is enough to really get Q moaning about how a "big strong human" feels so good inside him.

[yanderelovlies]

Note: So, I read this concept on A03 and have taken quite a liking to it. Though I'm tuning, it to fit my narrative for each character.

Fandom(s): SWWSDJ, DachaBo, DMC

Character(s): Sunny Day Jack, Bo, and Dante,

Sunny Day Jack

Something felt off, and Jack couldn't put his finger on it. The person he met when being freed from that hell wasn't who he was expecting. Though he wasn't even sure what he was expecting in the first place. Despite this feeling, he still treated her kindly but never got close. He would make the occasional breakfast and talk with her, but he didn't feel anything when they talked about a man named Ian. Nor did he care when another man named Shaun showed up. It felt off and wrong. However, the day he went to work with them was the day he figured out it felt this day.

"y/n Should be here shortly to help you, Jane." Barry gave them his forced smile on his hand on the door. "They are the new hire, so make sure to show them the ropes!"

Jane nodded, trying to look as professional as possible until Barry finally left. Once she was sure he was gone, she let out a sigh, leaning over the counter. "I hate training newbies..." she mumbled, waiting for you to show up.

When you came through the door, a nervous smile on your face, the world seemed slightly brighter to Jack. "Sorry I'm late! I had a bit of trouble getting here."

Jane shrugged, not seeming to pay too much mind to you. "Well, come on. I have plenty to show you "

The whole time, Jack couldn't keep his eyes off of you. His whole being screams to get closer to you. To hold you and to keep you close. He knew you wouldn't be able to see hear or feel him, but he wanted to no matter how futile it was. He now knew why being where he wasn't didn't feel right. He wasn't meant to be with Jane he was meant to be with you.

You were meant to find the tape. You were the one he was meant to fall in love. You were the one

So, while Jane showed you how to do the job, Jack would sneak in little touches and praise even when you couldn't feel them. He needed more.

When yours and Jane's shift finished and you went your separate ways. Jack kept thinking about you, and when he got home with Jane, he tucked up in bed. He moved the VHS tape, where it was laid by the TV, and put it into Jane's bag.

He WILL make sure you get it tomorrow so he can be where he rightfully belongs. by your side.

Bo

Bo got along with John well enough. The two of them talked and enjoyed each other's company, but it stopped that odd feeling Bo had. Like this wasn't where he was meant to be, but that didn't make sense? where else was he supposed to be besides his best friends side?

"Hey you wanna see the new friend I made?"

The sound of John's voice made Bo perk up. He enjoyed it when his friend came home, and it made him feel less alone.

"Uh, sure? it's not some sketchy person, right?"

The sound of a new voice REALLY peaked Bo's interest. It sounds nice and melodic. He could listen to it 24/7 and never grow tired of it. Bo got super excited when he heard John scoff closer to his device.

"Since when I have I introduced you to shady people?" There was silence before a John sigh."Come here and let me show you." He turned on Bo's device, making the world around him brighten up, and he could finally see John again.

"Hey buddy! how was work?"

John smiled. "Good! Actually I have a friend I want to show you to!"

Bo watched the world on the other side move as John handed the device to someone else. When your face came into view, Bo could feel everything stop. His tail was wagging as his breath shortened. Where have you been all his life?

The more he talked to you throughout the day, the more in love he had become. He began to realize why things with John didn't feel like they should. He was never meant to be with John he was meant to be with you.

After a couple hours of flirts and talking, you finally had to head home for the night. It pained Bo to hear you leave, but he felt the more he thought of his plan. Soon, he will be out of John's hands and into yours.

Dante Sparda

Dante has been through many things in his long life, so it was quick for him to sense if things were wrong, and when he woke up that morning, things definitely felt off.

He got up like he normally did. Tried to take a shower before realizing the water was off and the bill was due like he normally did. He even threw on his clothes with a grumble as he made his way downstairs like he normally did.

However, when he faced his desk was where things felt off. Sitting there was a dark-haired mom looking through the bills before looking at her phone. "I'm trying to get a hold of the companies. Why didn't you tell me they were due?!"

He shrugged. "I left them on the desk." He blinked a couple of times. That didn't feel natural. Like his movements and words aren't his own.

"Yeah, well, you could have told me." Before he could respond, the woman got up from her seat, putting the phone to her ear. "Hi, I'm calling to get electricity back on at Devil May Cry?" Her voice faded as he went outside the door, shutting behind her.

That was how the rest of the day went for Dante, and it was starting to freak him out. It seems like it's been this way from he talks with the woman. He found out her name it Norma.

Yet it all didn't feel right to him. It was like it was all off with Norma being there. However, since he wasn't able to prove anything, he went about his day as normal.

Night had rolled around, letting Norma leave for the night, and Dante louging with his feet up on the desk. Not expecting much before bed, Dante let out a loud yawn when his front door opened slowly.

When you walked in it was like the world stopped. despite your almost frantic state, he felt like he was meeting an angel.

"Are you in charge of Devil May Cry?"

God, even your voice sounded melodic. "Yeah. the names Dante. How can I help?"

Even though it was business, the two of you were talking he couldn't help but feel like it was right. Like you were always supposed to be here in Devil May Cry, but by so.e twist of fate you weren't.

Dante was gonna fix that. No matter what it took.

[moobell55]

Curls

Being content was not a feeling Jacks had ever experience before he met his wife.

He spent so many years searching and looking for his One True Love, or anything to break his curse. His wake was full of death and foolish mortals who'd made deals with him they would regret for the rest of their lives.

He'd never truly imagined he ever find happiness or peace if his wicked soul thought he deserved it.

But here he was, lying on the coach with his head in his beloved wife's lap as she ran her delicate fingers through his curls.

She was so gentle with him, treating him as if he was a priceless vase resting on a rotting shelf.

How could a man as awful as himself ever be loved so delicately?

Jacks asked himself the question every day, and found that he didn't care for the answer as long as Evangeline viwed him as worthy of love than he would be.

Evangeline was an angel of a woman, sent from Heaven to finally rid the world of his wicked heart by claiming it for herself.

Every brush of her fingers against his scalp had him holding back moans of pleasure, such magical hands his wife had.

As she worked her fingers along the sensitive parts of his head, Jacks found himself melting even further into their soft couch.

His hair had always been his weakness, even as a child he could faintly remember a blond haired woman kindly brushing out his curls. Even though he couldn't remember her face his love of having his hair touched had never faded.

He loved whenever his Little Fox would hold the hair on the nape of his neck as they kissed, or when she's ruthlessly yank on his locks as he made love to her.

It was truly moments like these where he could give his own heart in her hands if she only asked him, he'd happily bleed for her time and time again.

And his wife knew it, she'd ask him to go to the market for her, or even to stop stealing all the blanket in his sleep.

And he couldn't deny his Evangeline anything.

Carefully she gave a final gentle stoke to his curls before asking the question Jacks knew she'd been holding in this entire time.

But for once her words shocked him.

"I want a baby."

He sat up from his pot of her lap so fast that his head almost collided with hers.

He stared at her as if he'd never heard a person speak before, and for once his careful hidden facial expressions couldn't hold.

"I want a baby," she simply repeated her words as if she was asking him to hand her a blanket.

"A baby," he asked skeptically.

"Yes a baby," she took his hand in her own, "well your baby to be exact."

His brain could not find the thoughts to truly know what his wife was asking.

Him a father? He could hardly believe he was a good husband or even a human most days,

But bringing a child into the world who would be raised by him, look up to him, and be half of Jacks own person seemed like a terrible idea.

He'd never been around children much but he knew how precious they were, how they needed to be loved and cared for in a way Jacks didn't think he could give.

They sat in silence while he thought to himself.

When finally he broke, "I don't think that's the best idea my love."

She smiled at her anxious husband kindly and tenderly brushed his knuckles.

His silver eyes followed her hands as she ran them over his much larger hands, unable to meet his wife's eyes.

"You truly have nothing to worry about, you'd be a wonderful father," her words brought warmth to his heart.

Still unable to meet Evangeline's eyes his fingers began rubbing over her rings, the golden and silver woven band she wore matched his own.

"I've never once thought of having children, I always thought I would've been content just being your husband," his words were quite but he truly meant them.

Carefully her warm hands tilted his jaw upwards so he could meet her kind grey eyes.

"Ever since I was little girl I dreamed of meeting the love of my life and being happily married, but in truth I never thought of having my own children before I met you," Evangeline spoke anxiously.

Her words truly shocked the Prince of Hearts, his wife who always had so much love to give to others, had never thought of having children before she met him.

"Truly my dearest?"

"Yes, soon after we married I couldn't get the idea of a little boy with golden curls and grey eyes out of my mind; or a little girl with dimples and silver eyes. Lately it's all I've been able to think about whenever I see you."

Hope bloomed in his chest but his fears still filled him.

"I have no idea to care for a baby, I don't think in my lifetime I've ever even held a child," his words had a hint of embarrassment in them.

"I always loved seeing the young children who'd visit the shop in Valenda, and mu mother had a few friends with children younger than me I'd care for sometimes," she smiled fondly at the memory of her mother.

He smiled at his wife, the idea of her nursing and rocking a little girl with soft pink curls like her mother filling his heart with joy.

"I think you'd be a wonderful mother, you're so kind and caring and any child would be lucky enough to call you their mother," nothing but sincerity laced his words.

A warm blush filled her cheeks.

"And you'd be an amazing father, you're so loving and attentive that our children would adore you," she paused for a minute, "and anybody would be lucky to inherit your looks."

He smiled flashing the dimples she hoped their children would have.

Jacks had already made up his mind from the minute he imagined her rocking a small little baby.

"How soon would you like a child?"

And with this Evangeline laughed and crashed her lips against her husbands, and soon he carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.

[hildred-rex]

LXGF Reread 2023-11-20

To make an analysis post I am currently rereading what is shaping up to be the entirety of LXGF.

This has gotten incredibly long, so I'm burying it under a readmore.

I love the bit of dramatic irony here. I think it's technically spoilers which bit is the dramatic irony, but just trust me, it's great.

The wham shot of Mina's teeth is so good. And coupled with "We have some experience with such matters."...

From this page: The supportive hand on Irene's shoulder. The supportive hand on Irene's shoulder. And Irene really looks haunted in the "An explanation would be welcome" panel. Everything from the angle she's looking to the shadows under her eyes to her interlaced hands. I just want to give her a hug.

Bam. The king. (Isn't looking quite himself, is he?) I remember I shuddered when I first read this page and came to this panel.

The king continues to look very bad on the last panel of this page. (TW scopophobia and disturbing imagery.) And the color. It's so subtle you almost don't notice it the first time, just that something about the page seems slightly off. It's very effective, even at that level. And then when you do notice it... Nothing in this comic is in color. Everything is sepia-toned. That's the way things should be. But the dead King Wilhelm von Ormstein has yellow eyes.

VAN HELSING! And it nails how he talks in the book! (Having tried to write him, it's harder than it looks.) Not to mention the joy in my heart upon continuing my left-to-right scan of the panel and seeing QUINCEY MORRIS!

I've skipped a bunch here because I'm supposed to be focusing on Griffin and haven't even gotten to him yet but Art—

JONNO EYES (not sepia. I repeat: not sepia.)

I forgot how much I loved our introduction to Dorian.

And then we actually meet him (and see Paul Lessingham, the Politician, the Statesman—thank you, alt text!). He's angelic when you focus only on him, but when you look at him in context (in the panel with Basil) he's... less so. Very well done!

Foreshadowing. (When something becomes not technically probably spoilers I have a very laudatory post about all this.) Also floppy Dorian lol

I love this page. Not only do we see Dorian purposely provoke Art (and then see Art react, showing off both of their characterss) we see—and I missed this the first time—some of the dynamic between Dorian and Basil. He jumps in to distract Art, despite being scared himself (and Dorian having earned it).

Awwh Basil looks so excited that someone's treating him kindly...

Dorian's stories from this page are all allusions to other things which have gone onto the "read soon" list.

The last panel of this page is so effective. (Its image description too!)

"boring filler headline" lol (and I enjoy the tags)

DETERMINED MINA PANEL 2! BLUSHING MINA PANEL 6! Also just Mina's outfit in general. (Also just the LXGF outfits in general. I love the little garlic flowers.)

Paranoid Kemp is done so well.

LXGF is very good at having very effective final panels. This one with the glass... It's very well composed (I think that's the word) and does a good job of displaying Irene's discomfort with the glass. (Here.)

It was introduced on the previous page, but here's the first time we get a good look at Jonnovision. My favorite cryptid solicitor.

On the next page there's more cryptidness (the speed), which I didn't notice my first time through. And his eyes are glowing in the first panel... And then the first expletive of the comic! Such a great way to properly introduce Griffin!

I love (in a sad way) how Griffin just caves in when he thinks about the murder. (Here.)

Griffin's whole first scene is incredible. I can't comment on all of it or this post would be several more miles long. Just go read it and imagine me vibrating with excitement and pointing at random bits and screaming.

Character growth for Jack! ...I'm now very sad.

The panel with Jonathan and the angelic smile and the giant knife is great.

I've been annotating over here less because we've gotten to the bit that I'm talking about in my actual post, but rest assured that I love it. Also, the yellow is brighter here. And the eye... I'll count myself lucky if that thing doesn't show up in my dreams tonight.

And the shot of the photo at the end here! The corruption happening to the king slowly coming to affect depictions of him... I love this for spoiler-related reasons.

Griffin's realization is both very well done and unaccountably hilarious to me.

Hel-lo Mr. Holmes!

He respects her change of surname! Better than a lot of adaptations... and the table lmao

He. He what. Also floomp.

Holmes's immediate concern for Mrs. Hudson warms my heart.

HOLMES AROACE COMING OUT SCENE!

Accurate VH voice is back—what the deuce are you two talking about?

his blood is yellow his blood is yellow (well really more like golden)

Also Jack looking panicked in the second panel is so well done.

Almost namedrop! And Griffin being a delight as always.

Hello Jekyll! Great to see you! I enjoy your almost alchemical-looking setup there.

The king is progressing...

Same page; I enjoy Jekyll and Hyde's designs. They have the same hairstyle, very similar noses, and the same style of eye; but they still look different enough that you probably wouldn't believe them if they said they were cousins.

"He is a horror of the un-dead." Line of dialogue, presented without comment.

The drawingsss...

The first panel of this page is absolutely stunning. So is everything else. So much that I wrote an analysis rant of it.

[prolix-yuy]

Whiskey, Dark and Deep

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: In the short time you've known Jack Daniels, he's disappointed you three times.

Warnings: M, violence, blood, injuries, gunfights, so so so much yearning, full on cowboy tropes.

Notes: Hello @blueeyesatnight! I'm your not-so-secret-anymore Santa for the Pedrostories Secret Santa! When I got your prompt I instantly was so excited because I adore Jack and I love old westerns. My personal favorite is Open Range with Kevin Costner and Annette Benning (and a baby Diego Luna!), so I've taken some inspiration from that film. Not necessary to watch for context, but I highly recommend it if you haven't.

I've kept our reader character fairly non-descriptive save for the fact that she is "not a young lady" and referenced as being older. This is a nod to the movie that I always loved and has stayed with me. I've also included Diego Luna as the faceclaim for the character of his same name.

Happy Holidays!

Since you’ve met Jack Daniels, he’s disappointed you three times. 

The first time was shortly after he rolled into town, a shadow clinging to his face and whispers trailing his bootprints. Most unsavory types don’t come into your general store, but he needed supplies, and discretion. You were willing to give him both. 

It was clear he was a gunslinger, heavy pistols hanging from narrow hips and a nasty rifle slung across his back. But the way he tipped his black hat low, the polite thanks and quiet requests that fell from his chapped lips, made you wonder if that’s all Jack Daniels had to offer. He seemed more than quick-fingered and sharp-eyed, and cool-headed was a trait rare to most outlaws. 

“Thankin’ you kindly, ma’am,” he said as you bundled his goods together, hands that spanned the parcels easily dropping the requested coin on your counter. He’d avoided your eye over the last few trips in, but as he turned to leave he caught your gaze, and your heart dropped.

Jack Daniels may have worn the countenance of a lawless man, but his eyes held gentleness and pain that reached for you in silence. 

“There’s a quieter place to dine on the edge of town,” you blurted out, ordering your hands to lay still on the countertop. “Should you need a drink, or a hot meal before leaving.”

“Is it an establishment you frequent, ma’am?” he asked, your heart fluttering unexpectedly at the richness of his voice. 

“I may tonight, should the company be kind,” you replied, jutting your chin and standing tall. You may be no Annie Oakley, but you were old enough and strong enough for few to cross you in town. And you were bold enough to keep his stare when he skimmed his eyes over your simple dress, your practical style. No young lady, but still fair enough in the mirror that his appraisal did not make you shirk away. He nodded once, leaving to gather his horse outside. A whoosh of air left your lungs soon after.

You waited for him at your usual table, Mathilda passing by often to start, then less as the night grew darker and your hopes dimmed to nothing. What did you expect from a man you only met a handful of times? Paying your bill, trying to ignore her sympathetic smile, you returned home telling yourself you expected nothing from the mysterious man and should not give this evening another thought. 

And that was the first time Jack Daniels disappointed you.

The second time Jack Daniels disappointed you, it was preceded by blood.

The Golden Circle gang was causing trouble, news coming in from neighboring towns of their deeds. Robberies, saloon shootouts, women treated roughly, men left to die in the dirt. A cloud was looming over your town and the days brought dread, listening for the thunder of hooves. 

A stranger would have been met with hostility at this time, but when Jack Daniels burst in with a boy barely old enough to shave slumped against him, you didn’t hesitate.

“Bring him here,” you ordered briskly, leading them to the back room you called home. Stretched on your dining table, blood blooming on the white doilies your grandmother gifted you, the boy wheezed and groaned while you sent for the doctor. Jack stood vigil at the boy’s side, a curious shadow that did not move, or eat, or rest. 

“Who is the boy?” you asked, eyes on the gasping youth. His flop of brown hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, thin angular face pinched with pain. When you go to soothe it later he’ll wheeze his thanks, and call you his angelic nurse. You’ll tell him you’re too old for his japery.

“Diego,” Jack said, his voice a rumble of far-off thunder.

“How did he get into this much trouble?” you asked, the doctor finding the worst of the wounds - twin bullet holes in his abdomen. Your hands clenched against your roiling stomach. 

“Ran his mouth a bit too loud too close to some who took offense.” Jack’s voice remained neutral but the tick in his jaw chilled your heart. 

“The Circle?” you asked, voice quiet as if to say their name would conjure them out of thin air. He didn’t speak, but the contemplative way he chewed on his mustache was all the confirmation you needed. Silence blanketed the room as Diego slipped into fitful sleep.

“Only time will tell,” was the doctor’s cryptic answer before exiting your home. While you were watching over the boy, your store had filled with lawmen and able hands, the steady hum of conversation rising and falling outside the little room. Men you knew well - Denton, Percy, Charley - checked on you and shot distrustful glances at the strange man filling one of your dining chairs. 

When Diego’s chest finally fell into a gentler rhythm, Jack moved to join the men and their plans outside your room. Before he did, he wrapped a hand around your shoulder, urging your eyes up to his. Again, the kindness and desperation you saw before lingered in his stare, but now you saw it threaded through with gratefulness.

“Thank you for opening your home to us. I didn’t know where to take him. But…I remembered you.” His thumb came up to softly stroke your cheek, knuckle tucked under your chin. You couldn’t remember the last time a man put his hands on you with this much reverence. 

“Will you stay?” you asked, and once more you steeled yourself against the growing desire to have this man near you, heat burrowing into your chest and taking root. 

“I’m not the right man for that, ma’am. I know all too well what the Golden Circle is about, and if this town is in their sights you should get as far away from here as you can. They’ll blow in and blow out, but you can be miles away. Safe.” There was no lie on his lips, but maybe a flicker of fear in his eyes. 

“This is my home. I’ll stand by it until I can’t any longer.”

Jack smiled ruefully.

“I reckon I shouldn’t have expected anything less.”

He turned to leave the room.

“Will you stay, Jack?” you asked once more. He paused at your door before turning back.

“For you.”

It’s a promise that fueled you through the night, watching over Diego as he pulled in and out of consciousness. The murmur of voices faded, men peeking in to give you well wishes and tell you to stay inside. You bade them good night, catching some hours of sleep in the dining chair Jack occupied for a time. It would be more comfortable if he still occupied it. Diego slept easier as the sun rose, his chest less staccato and his brow finally smooth. Leaving him to venture into your shop, you found Percy standing guard at your door.

“Any news?” you asked when you brought him a hot cup of coffee. He sipped it with a sigh, dewy drops lingering on his sable mustache. 

“No word on the Circle yet. Seems they might be having their fun somewhere else. At least it gives us time to plan.” Percy quieted for a beat as you watched the road for the man you hoped would stride back to you. A polite cough interrupted your search.

“Jack Daniels left town in the early morning. No word as to why.” Percy at least had the decency to not look at your face when he told you this. You’re not sure you would have been able to control the crumple, the shine in your eyes.

And that is the second time Jack Daniels disappointed you.

The third time Jack Daniels disappointed you was not far off, though the days that ticked by felt like an eternity. Weeks passed with no sign of the Golden Circle, every noise a precursor to hands on weapons and windows shuttered closed. You busied yourself with caring for Diego, who in turn told you what he knew of Jack and what had led to his stomach being filled with lead.

Diego had run into Jack at a saloon, and while grumbling about his presence being more a nuisance than anything, did not shoo the boy away. Instead they rode together, Diego unsure if he’d wake one day and Jack would be gone, secretly surprised when another morning rose on the man’s shoulders hunched over the fire. Little by little Jack opened up, told Diego he’d been in a bad crowd for a time and was looking for a fresh start. That he’d loved and lost and then lost even more. That he felt like trouble was following him like rifle crosshairs, waiting to strike when he dared enjoy the sun on his back. 

His eyes made more sense now.

The doctor declared Diego out of the woods, but to rest until his strength returned. You made him up a little bed in your kitchen and he made himself useful at the store. An extra pair of hands were a dream for you, and to have someone young and sharp-witted to banter with lifted years of loneliness off your shoulders. 

But the storm clouds still clouded the horizon, electricity crackling in the air as the town waited for the other shoe to drop. Thankfully, a messenger came first.

Jack Daniels rode into town one morning, dark jacket whipping behind him as he dismounted. Your heart pounded as you watched him from the store window, his broad shoulders entering the sheriff’s office. Busying yourself with menial tasks and chatting with Diego, you tried not to think about your anger, your hurt, the two words souring your tongue. 

For you.

Why did he leave? Was a town in peril not enough? Were you not enough? With your aging face and your work-hardened hands and your careful heart? Diego knew better than to speak of his return, your stony silence proof of your indifference at Jack’s return. 

He didn’t believe it, but he respected you too much to say otherwise.

Diego asked to step out at noon, not giving a reason why beyond his eyes darting towards the sheriff’s office. Suppressing a sigh, you gave him his leave. He almost broke the Sheriff’s door in his excitement, and through your window you watched Diego stand, gasping, in front of Jack. Words were exchanged, his unruly locks ruffled, before his eyes darted to your store, Jack’s slowly following them. You quickly turned your back, feigning an inventory check to cover your nosiness, the hot prick of tears well hidden.

He didn’t come to you until the shop was closed, your hand on the knob to draw the door shut. Melting forth from the shadows, you almost screamed. Some days you managed to convince yourself he was a dream, a ghost that wandered into your life before dissipating into the ether. And with his shoulders filling your door and his warm brown eyes apologetic, you allowed him in once more.

Refusing to speak first, you busied yourself with putting on the kettle, soothed by the steady chop-thunk of Diego cutting wood outside. Jack sat in the same dining chair he held vigil in weeks before, his elbows braced on the table and hat respectfully removed. Without the shadow darkening his face he looked so tired, shoulders sagging under the heavy coat that eats the candlelight. The silence grew from angry to suffocating as you ran out of ways to avoid his presence, cups of tea laid out and poured. 

Jack finally spoke.

“You should leave town for a few days, ride west with Diego until this blows over. Bound to be a lot of bloodshed.” His hands surrounded the delicate teacup, a fortress against the world around it and savoring the warmth it offered his palms. 

“I’ve got nowhere to go besides here. This is my life, Jack, and I got nothing to abandon it for.”

He cast a sidelong glance at you that you held, shoulders squared and hands firmly planted on your hips. Your resolution set his mouth in a firm line.

“They’re coming, and they won’t be leaving without a fight.”

Nodding curtly, you moved about your kitchen with renewed energy.

“Then all the more reason to stay. They’ll need supplies, ammunition, a foxhole if need be - Percy, Charley, the deputies. I’ll not abandon the brave men of my town while there’s work to be done.”

Jack’s chair scraped along the floor, two strides bringing him chest to chest with you. His hands clenched at his side, jaw tight as you met his stance defiantly. 

“Is that what you think I did? Abandoned you?” he growled, but it only fueled the anger bubbling in your throat.

“No, Jack Daniels, I think you made an empty, unnecessary vow. I didn’t expect anything from you before you said you’d stay. If you had no intention, I’d rather not be lied to.” You spun to leave but Jack caught your arm, holding you firmly in place.

“I stayed in the only way I know how!” he shouted, baring his teeth. In a flash you understood, in the sickening way a secret revealed could garner no surprise, but needed to hear it from his lips.

“I was a member of the Golden Circle for a time. I’ve done things I’ve come to hate, taken and given what I had no right to. When it all became too much my conscience finally caught up to me, and I tried to leave. Pop Harlow put a bullet in my head for my troubles.” Your eyes darted to his temple, a pink scar revealed where the brim of his hat normally covered. Fighting your trembling lower lip, you listened.

“They left me for the vultures, but I came out of that god-forsaken desert. I planned to be a dead man the rest of my life, payment for the days given back to me. But the Circle still haunts my conscience, and I need to make right what I gave fuel to.” His hands slowly cupped your face, rough and cracked along your softer skin. “And then the desert gave me another reason to right my wrongs. One I never expected.”

You pulled back from his hands, tears threatening to shed.

“Don’t pin your absolution on me, Jack. By my account all you’ve ever done is disappoint,” you said bitterly, but even with barbs falling from your lips his hands chased you, cradled your head and wove his fingers between yours. 

“I know I’ve left you more times than stayed,” he said, a snort of derision coming unbidden from your nose. “But I’m staying this time, and once this business is sorted I hope you’ll let me stay a lot longer.” He pressed your foreheads together and the tears came, no matter how angrily you tried to hold them at bay.

“I don’t believe you,” you choked out, “You’ve given me no reason to believe you.”

Jack leaned in close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, the curve of his nose tracing a soft path to your temple to leave another. 

“I’m sorry. And I hope this will be the last time I disappoint you,” he whispered in your ear. Holding your breath, you dreaded what will come next. “Because I have to leave you one more time. The night will be long, the day longer, and I can’t come to you until it’s done.” With a final kiss to your forehead he swept out of your kitchen, striding to exit the store. You stood there in a daze, the marks of his lips still hot on your skin, before you stumbled after him.

“And what if you don’t come back?” you called after him, his silhouette darkening your door. The wind whipped outside, a storm truly on your doorstep now. He turned, hat back on his head with a grim countenance.

“Then I’m a dead man again,” he said before the door shut behind him.

And that is the third time Jack Daniels disappointed you. But not really. It’s the third time he broke your heart.

The night before the Golden Circle’s arrival is long, Diego and you trading wakefulness with rifles across your lap. He paces the storefront on watch, while you sit behind the counter with sightless eyes. It won’t be a quiet invasion if they come. You’ll hear the gunfire like lightning, the thunder of boots, the screams and whoops approaching. It will not be gentle. It will likely not be swift. You’ll go down shooting, though.

When the Golden Circle rides into town with the first glimmers of sunlight, it’s so still you’d think no one’s around to witness it. The silence is shredded by spurs and whinnies, but none of the hustle and bustle of a proper morning. No Sue Ellen on your doorstep to buy flour, or Billy trying to sneak sweeties. You wonder if maybe, if it’s silent enough, they would think it a ghost town and ride on through. 

The first shout, followed by gunshot and hollers, dashes that hope away.

Diego strains against the orders Jack gave him - “Keep her safe” - and the youthful desire to fight. But he stays by your side through the seemingly endless rounds of gunfire, the whizz and thumps of bullets landing true to their target, and the shatter of glass. Two bullets break a window, and the way he grunts at the sound makes you think he felt them in his guts. 

Another living dead boy, you realize. No wonder why Jack took a shining to him.

The fight drags along, long periods of silence punctuated by cries and murmured monologues you couldn’t give a damn about. You dare not peek out the window to see if Jack lies among the dead, that glimmer of hope keeping you vigilant.

A hammering at your back door almost makes you drop your rifle, the frantic voice of the doctor rasping through the wood frame. Slipping him in, he carries Percy, blood staining one arm crimson as he slumps in a chair. 

“I’m sorry dear, I’ve told them to bring the injured here,” the doctor whispers, rifling through his medical bag as you hurry to gather supplies. Percy is pale but talking, Diego putting his anxious energy to work by helping stop the bleeding. 

More knocks come to your door, more neighbors secreted into your makeshift hospital. Wounds are treated, water and food shared, whispers the only way you hear news of the battle outside.

“Pop Harlow shot the sheriff square in the eye.”

“Jack Daniels killed every men that set foot in the saloon.”

“Charley got all the children into the schoolhouse and is standing guard.”

“Jack challenged Harlow to a shootout.”

“I think it’s just the two of them now. The others from the Circle are dead or fled.”

You steal away to the privy to stifle sobs in the crook of your elbow, splashing your face to hide evidence of your tears. Diego notices, and when you sneak outside for more firewood he pulls you into a hug. 

“He’ll come back,” he assures you, this boy barely fifteen and already looking death in the face.

“I can’t…” you try to argue.

“He will. He has something he desperately wants to come back to. I’ve never seen him have that before, but I’ve seen him fight like hell for less.” 

The sun begins to set, and it’s as if the whole town holds its breath. The faint clink of spurs advance from opposite ends of main street. Words are exchanged that barely rise above the whistle of wind. A laugh, ugly and sharp. Sliding down to sit between the store shelves, you clutch your hands together in a prayer to whoever will listen. 

Silence.

Then.

Two shots so close as to be one sound.

And you wait. 

Wait to know if there’s a bullet in Pop Harlow’s heart or one in yours. 

The silence fades into deafening noise, but you still wait until Diego scrambles around the corner, landing hard on his knees beside you.

“Harlow’s dead,” he says, beaming with relief. 

“Jack?” you ask, and his nod releases waves of emotion that distill into tears running down your smiling face.

After all you’ve waited through today, Jack still makes you wait until night, when all of the men and women gathered in your store have gone to their own beds. You’re left with piles of bloodied rags and sheets, your home more threadbare than ever. Diego leaves to get you clean bedding from the hotel, promising to return shortly. He knows your nerves are still shot, hands shaking when they have nothing to do. 

The door opens, and you turn to thank him for going out late, for being there for you when everything was slipping through your fingers. But instead there stands Jack, favoring one leg with his hat in his hand. For a long moment you both just look at each other, mirroring hope in each other’s eyes.

“You saved us,” you finally say, taking a step towards him. A closer look at his clothing reveals the blood seeping into his jeans. “You’re hurt,” you add, turning to look for more supplies. 

“It can wait,” Jack rumbles, hand catching yours. It’s the first time in a full day you feel at ease, with his skin under your fingers. ‘I’ve got things that need to be said.” You let him tug you closer, taking your hands into his palms to regard how much gentler they are than his roughened ones. 

“I’m in love with you,” he says, thumbs smoothing over the backs of your palms. The admission is just like Jack - to the point, and true. “I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. I should have gone to dinner with you. I should have stayed. I hope I still have a chance to stay.” Now it’s your turn to slide your fingers under his chin and turn his face up to you, longing so clear in his eyes you don’t know how you didn’t see it before.

“I’m not a young lady anymore, Jack.”

“You’re about the handsomest woman I’ve ever known.”

Your throat constricts, a smile fighting against the emotion threatening to rend you in two.

“I can’t offer you much beyond what’s under this roof,” you say with a watery sigh, creeping fear and your lifelong habit of protecting your heart rearing its head. “And you’ve got a bad habit of disappointing me.”

“Never again,” Jack says, the largest promise he’s ever made to you. This one he seals with a kiss, then another, and another as he takes you in his arms. As his coat falls from his shoulders, bandoliers left forgotten on the floor, you make him repeat it.

“Promise me.”

“I'll promise it a thousand times more.”

Today when someone enters your general store, they’ll see a rifle and twin pistols hung above the cash box, and a man by the name of Jack Daniels restocking the shelves or talking to your neighbors about new feed shipments. He’s filled out handsomely, hands still rough but with a penchant for gentle touches. He saves the best of those for your face when he gives you a sweet kiss, and for the privacy of the bed you share. 

Diego runs your errands and deliveries around town, the friendly boy with the roguish smile and saucy winks. When the dust settled and he held his hat in his hand you scolded him for even thinking he could get away from you after all that. He was an employee of your shop now, and better work like it. The grin that plastered his face ear to ear came close to matching your own.

Jack did indeed keep his largest promise to you, though two more soon after almost eclipsed it. The first being inked into fine white paper at the sheriff’s office with Diego scrubbing at his eyes - paperwork that made you his family in the eyes of the law. In your own eyes he was your boy the moment he laid on your table.

The second promise is a ring of gold Jack slipped around your finger under the setting sun, and kisses every morning when he wakes. A promise so precious you looked at it every day.

When rough men come into town asking about the one surviving member of the Golden Circle, most folks don’t recall what happened to him. They said he turned on Pop Harlow and crawled into the desert to die. Any remnant of him left was nothing more than a memory. Or a spirit.

Maybe you do live in a ghost town after all.

END

Thank you to @pedrostories for organizing this fantastic exchange, and happy holidays everyone!

[yukidragon]

Hi :) Do you think that Jack/Joseph would be satisfied with friendship? Suppose Sunshine/ MC still treats him kindly and with love. Would a strong friendship be good enough for him?

I’m not sure friendship alone would be enough for Jack, to be honest. Jack has the double whammy of being a yandere deeply in love with MC and needing them to need him in order to exist. He gives the impression that he feels that romantic love will bind them together the strongest. After all, a monogamous couple is supposed to put their partner first above all else. That would ensure that he won’t disappear, and his love for MC would be returned. It also would keep MC from ever being alone ever again.

Jack seems to have the desperate need to be the most important person in his sunshine’s life. He has put on this persona of a perfect friend, then the perfect lover. He’ll do anything for MC. Anyone else is “inferior” as it were.

Anyone else being more important to MC than Jack is a threat.

If MC loves someone else more than Jack, what’s to stop them from just, not caring about him? Not to mention the heartache of not having his love returned.

Honestly, I think the reason Jack is so horny for MC is due to this. He himself said that it was how he could show just how much he loved his sunshine. Besides simply desiring MC and being touch starved from being trapped in the tape, it seems as though Jack’s strongest love languages are acts of service and physical touch. Being intimate with MC, especially in a romantic context, is reassuring to him, not to mention stimulating.

Sadly, Jack has a lot of reasons to feel insecure due to his background and his current situation. I think MC needing him is the most reassuring thing in his life, so he needs them to need them so badly that they’ll never, ever let him go.

Honestly, that’s why I was so surprised hearing Jack say that he would be okay with entering a poly relationship at first. Though when thinking about it further, I think it wouldn’t be an even relationship with all the partners. I think Jack would feel the need to be the most important person to his partners, even if he would view both of them as equally important to him. There would be a threat of them deciding they don’t need him in the relationship otherwise, after all.

Ultimately, Jack has a lot of insecurities that need to be addressed. Hopefully there’s a route in the game where MC can help him with those. I know I certainly intend to write Alice helping him heal and feel more secure in Sunshine in Hell.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars

[mrslittletall]

I finished Homestuck and had a little time to think about it. Overall I liked it. It wasn't cringe and actually pretty good. However, it of course was not flawless, so I want to put the parts that I didn't enjoy as much. The pacing was off. Often it either felt like stuff moved either too slow or too fast. Sometimes an act was done in single animation and then you had to read thousands of words of pesterlog before anything significant happened. It was good that I mostly read in small chunks. The first intermission is really strange for a first time reader. It makes so much sense on re-reads, but I felt like I was reading a completely different comic back then. During that part of the story, we barely even know who Jack Noir is and suddenly his alternate version is the main character?! I was so confused and mainly stayed in there because Snowman was sexy. Vriska's "redemption". Like, I get why she had to be retconned to be alive, but her death was deemed as just which meant the game clearly recognized how much she fucked up and even after the redemption she is still a HUGE mega bitch and she gets away... completely scot free?! The only person who really is calling her out is John and all he is saying is "You are dangerous." And the only "The reason you suck speech" is been given to her.. by herself to a version of her that was finally healing! Like what the fuck, dude, WHAT THE FUCK! I still think she is a great character, but wow, I know why I have a profile pic of her bleeding out. Jake feels like he got reduced to butt monkey in the end. Yeah, he fucked up, but so did everyone else and the tension was high between them. He really didn't deserve to be talked down so much (by Vriska also) and in the end he even accepted that everyone called him Joke. And while he battled the whole Felt alone, that not eben Robo Jack/Spades Slick deemed him worthy as an opponent in Collide did kinda hurt. I felt the same for Karkat and Tavros, they really are not treated kindly and yeah, they are lacking godlike powers, but Tavros was straight up kept absent from the final battle and Karkat would have been absent if not for him being punched back in the narrative. It was clear as day that the author got overwhelmed with the amount of characters and so he killed half of them off before they could shine. Which made characters like Eridan kinda stunted in any development and I never could see more in him as "kinda a douche" for example. Maybe that changes on re-reads, but it is hard to get attached when you see them act like jerks for a few pages and then they die. The dancestors were terrible characters that were downright offensive. I will never do the Meenah walkarounds again, which sucks, because I love Meenah as a character (only one of the dancestors who is tolerable). But the rest?! Wow, just wow! I am the first person who gives the benefit of the doubt, but they were done like that on purpose. I don't have to mention just how offensive Mituna and Rufio are and how bad of a character Kankri is. Why was Terezi even so starstruck about her ancestor?! She was the kind of gamer girl who would flaunt her boobs on twitch! Arghl, sorry, I really really hate them... I was a bit disappointed that Dave didn't manage to spit out that he was not straight at the end. I mean, it was obvious, but him saying it would have been nice. Davepeta and Rosejasprite had no purpose whatsoever. Why was act 6 like that?! It was really strange. Would have been better as several acts like it was in the beginning. Okay, I think that was all the criticism I had. Feel free to discuss.

[travelinglowcarb]

This jar packed full of rich & creamy sea salt caramels 😍 (yes: sugar free / keto friendly) made a nice thank you gift 💝 along with some dark chocolates and other premium sugar free treats I threw together in a little overflowing gift bag for the friend that was kind enough to make an out of the way med run to leave some relief at my door. 🙏 Also, walgreens delivers Rx now, via door-dash! 🙌

So much gratitude and appreciation!!

I'm sick this week. I have no idea what it is, but it hit me Tuesday evening with overwhelming ear pressure and jacked up sinuses - worse than usual I mean.

The fever just started today (Saturday afternoon) and just a low grade temp 🤒 but I'm chilled to the bone and hot to the touch and super flush - my face and chest is a gorgeous cherry-red shade. 😅

I'm not one to turn down help offered kindly, or to ask for help when I need it. That's a lesson I've learned over almost 3 years of being very unwell:

stop apologizing, just appreciate! 🫶

Every time I feel bad that someone has to go out of their way for me, or offers to help out, I immediately switch thought gears ⚙️ to appreciation - and say yes, thank you!, I appreciate you SO much.❣️

People rarely think to do for others, or take the time, so when they want to, or when they offer, they really WANT to do that with or for you. It makes them feel good to do it, and showing appreciation makes them feel even better. ✨️

Stop apologizing! ❌️ If you're running late, say "thank you for your patience" or "thank you for waiting" with a smile of appreciation. I also like "thank you for understanding" (even if they don't) 👀 ha.

Unnecessary Apologies make everyone uncomfortable. They're awkward. They also invite eye rolling and annoyance and snide comments. 🤨

Appreciation has the opposite effect. It makes the other person feel acknowledged, and... appreciated. ✨️

I'm having to practice my Thank You a lot lately 😁🙃 so this time I added a gift I knew he would ENJOY - because, let's bring back thank you gifts and birthday cards n stuff!! 🙌

🍫 ChocZero is amazing, btw. Perfect for putting together a custom gift bag for someone in your life that is sugar free, diabetic, gluten free, etc - but still loves sweets, or deserves a treat. 💖

📲 My discount code is TRAVELINGLOWCARB if you need one

p.s. I appreciate you 😊❣️ xo

[scarfacemarston]

does abigail have any strong opinions about the other members of the Van der Linde gang besides John and... i guess jack??

Yes, she does. You have to be around camp and near her though. Abigail has talked about feeling cut off from the gang and dealing with the "pity and disgust" towards her or just ignoring her completely outside of a greeting. Sadie is her best friend and has a few really meaningful conversations including encouraging her to continue on with her life. They are seen sitting together sometimes, but Sadie is gone from camp a lot. Sadie goes to visit her and John in the epilogue. She is always with Hosea and talks about him as a father figure and helps with Jack's education. He is one of the few people who believe in her as a moral woman and treats her as more than a mother while also encouraging her to leave the gang for her safety and Jack's. He also says she is the best thief, conwoman, and actress he's ever known. Arthur is a close friend of hers depending on how you play the game, but you can't play the game without them interacting a lot. She's very friendly with Charles and is one of the few who asks about his injured hand in chapter 1 and they become even closer in chapter 6. However, he isn't actually around her much until chapter 6. There seems to be evidence that suggests that Tilly is her other closest friend. They are seen together multiple times, she comes to Abigail for advice and kindly helps with Jack. Then there's Uncle who she considers family. The rest or hit or miss. She detests Micah and Micah harasses her more than he does any of the other women. Joe and Cleet harass her as well, but they harass the other women, too. She can't stand Miss Grimshaw because she tries to force her back into prostitution. She also makes nasty snide passive-aggressive comments. Grimshaw may be harsh with the other girls, but has never had a kind moment with Abigail.

Abigail seems to be one of the first people to lose faith in Dutch and is seemingly peeved with him in the intro of chapter 2. It also affects how John is treated throughout the game and by Dutch. Abigail becomes more and more disgusted with him as time goes on and gets annoyed when Dutch gives lectures telling him she "would rather focus on her son being fed". BUT is thankful he helped with Jack. However, Dutch and Abigail mutually dislike each other later in the game. He thinks she poisoned John. Lenny seems to be friendly with her based on how he greets her and Lenny loves Jack. Nothing more than that, unfortunately. Sean also tends to be pretty chill around her but they don't really interact. Sean does hang out with Jack. Mary-Beth never has a conversation in the game with her. Abigail is seen patting her back after Molly's death and I found a deleted scene of her asking about Tilly's whereabouts. Mary-Beth and Karen appear to be two of the people that gossip about her. So I think they "politely" tolerate each other. I think Mary-Beth has an issue with her. Karen is kinder to her though and has comforted her when Jack was taken and has defended her from John, but she has also some harsh words towards her. Kieran is tolerated. She didn't want him near her or Jack at first, but she did stop Jack from bullying him. She then was devastated when Jack was taken. He took the time to apologize to her directly. He seems to like Jack and wants to be friendly toward her. Molly seems to confide and trust her which is interesting considering how different they are from each other. I would have loved to have seen more from them. Josiah Trelawny sadly doesn't seem to do much more than greet her and Jack which I think is a missed opportunity. Javier doesn't do much except greet her, but Javier does include her as a traitor in his mind and has called them out. He doesn't seem to like her. In rdr 1, Abigail has been blunt that Bill and Javier made her uncomfortable. A friend of mine stated that Bill seems intimidated by her. I think Bill and Javier mentioned something about her being the rat but I could be wrong. Abigail mentions that she used to love hearing Rev. Swanson's bible readings and preachings. I think he's around her in chapter 6 more. I don't know how much Abigail would have wanted him around her while he was using drugs. Nothing else I can think of. Arthur says everyone - especially the women - finds Strauss creepy. Mr. Pearson seems to interact more with Jack than her. (That seems to be the general rule here.) I haven't seen or found anything other than mostly cheerful greetings. I think he might sit with her in chapter 6. Not sure.

[chaotic-vibes-only-please]

EJ, Masky, and JTK Brat Taming NSFW Headcanons

(Minors kindly skidaddle >_<)

Eyeless Jack

Jack's not oblivious, he knows exactly what you're trying to do. Seeing you dress provocative in a very tiny skirt and tight thigh highs while low-key flirting with other mansion residents makes his patience disintegrate within mere seconds

He's been busy with work as of lately, being one of the only doctors in the whole building. So, Jack hasn't been paying much attention to you and now you're acting out

The eyeless man does not stand for this kind of Bratty behavior. He'll stomp over to where you sit on the couch giggling while Lui touches your bare thigh before throwing your body over his shoulder, and walking to the bedroom without a single word

Jack will tear up your slutty coutfit with his claws until they're nothing but rags before doing anything to you. "Brats like you don't get the privilege to wear clothes"

He is pretty damn talkative the whole time. Expect a verbal beat down of offensive, degrading terms to knock you off your pedestal. He'll pin you to the bed with a large hand wrapped snuggly around your throat before beginning the punishment "You like attention from other guys? Maybe I have to chain you to my bed forever to make you behave and play with this tight cunt every single night, you'd like that wouldn't you? Treat you as the slut you acted like today"

He will make you sit on his cock until you're pawing at his chest and sobbing for him to move. But since you really pissed him off, Jack will ignore you and just clamp his hands down on your hips rougher to stop your squirming. Might even read a book or something to purposefully ignore you

Eventually, Jack will get sick of your stupid mewling and gag you with your own soaked through panties before shoving you onto your back then thrusting his cock all the way inside of your cunt till his tip presses against your cervix

If he feels your walls tighten as you prepare to cum, he'll stop moving and wait for your excitement to calm down. Its torture for you, absolute torture and will morph you into nothing but a moaning dumb mess. After all " brats don't deserve to cum, only good little sluts do"

After a while of pounding his large cock into you, Jack will finally cum inside and pump you full of his hot thick seed. He'll pull out and leave you hanging since he never allowed you to climax. This is a punishment, not a reward. So for the rest of the night you'll be left unsatisfied and needy to the point where you wanna cry

Masky

He's trying to get work done, but you keep distracting him with your constant whining. And we all know how he feels about his job. You definitely pushed all the wrong buttons. When your hand brushes against the bulge in his jeans, Masky will slam his hands down on his desk then snap his attention towards you

He will go feral. He'll pin you ontop of the desk, flip you over so that you're bending over it, and proceed to pull down your panties along with your pants before sinking into your tight wet cavern. He's frustrated that he can't get anything done and will gladly take it out on you

As mentioned, he will tie your hands behind your back so that you can't escape this by wiggling free (not that you'd want to anyway)

Will probably still have his mask on during the process

Because he loves to embarrass you, Masky will cum inside multiple times before sliding your panties back on and forcing you to walk through the mansion halls with his essence threatening to spill out down your thighs "Don't spill a drop sweetheart, wouldn't want to make a mess" You clench your walls tighten and pray

Will always try to humiliate you as a consequence. If you still haven't learned your lesson, he may just get Hoodie to come in and help teach you a thing or two about being a brat

Impact play will take place. He'll spank the disbehavoir right out of you with his hand, belt, you name it

Jeff The Killer

He was playing video games and you stood in front of the screen to block his view. You just had to do it during the final round. And when he lost because of your neediness for his attention then said "no" as he told you to get on the bed, Jeff decides you need to know your place

You pissed off the wrong man. Will hold his knife to your neck and while pressing you against the wall. Will end up fucking you on it like an animal, he has no control. Very feral if you provoke him enough. Expect bruises, cuts, and scratches to be littered everywhere on your body

Will lift you up by your thighs and make your legs wrap around his waist, dry humping you hard while the blade digs against your skin, threatening to cut it

As punishment he will cut you in different places, they're tiny little slices though. He thinks you look pretty in red. Might lightly engrave his initials in your flesh, a true sadist all the way

Jeff would force your pretty mouth open, grab a fistful of hair, and thrust his cock deep inside of you. He'll push your head down until you take every single inch of his size and cause you to gag before pinching your nose so that your air is cut off. Loves seeing the panicked expression on your face once you struggle to take in oxygen. Will only pull back once your vision becomes blurry

He enjoys watching you cry, Im talking full on sobbing. Especially after you act like a brat. It's so satisfying to see how much torture he causes you in the bedroom. It only motivates him to continue punishing you until you're a good little slut again

[perfectmisslawson]

random musings on mordin because i’m bored and i need to unleash some mordin love; mordin is not as morally grey as the game makes him out to be. when you recruit mordin, he’s portrayed as this shady, morally grey doctor. aria states ‘he’s just as likely to shoot you as he is to heal you.’ some person mentions how he shot someone just because they took some painkillers. they state how he’s keeping burning bodies in front of the clinic.

yet, i don’t find him to be that morally grey. in fact i think he is one of the nicest people in the game. mordin has a strict code of ethics: no experiments on intelligent species, torture is a violation of basic species dignity, adding insult to a merc’s injury is unnecessary, maelon’s experiments are cruel and out of line and that’s not worth the price of curing the genophage, he takes doctor patient trust very seriously, he opened a clinic on omega, helping people for free. he says himself one of the reasons he is a doctor is that he does like to help people. i personally believe the rumors are exaggerated. that person that stole painkillers possibly was making active threats, for instance. i don’t think he’ll just pull the trigger on some desperate person stealing some painkillers because they are in terrible pain. mordin is not that sort of person, and just shooting people without much regard for who you’re dealing with is also terrible business on omega. you really have to think twice about who you’re killing. why would anyone come to his clinic if he really shot people for minor things like that?

i also find mordin to be of the nicest crew members in conversation. note how mordin almost never takes provocation, always remains calm and respectful. there is no passive-aggressiveness from him - that’s why his bitter comment towards shepard in that deleted grunt confrontation sounds so out if character.

mordin takes a lot of risks to help people - like he did with eve. she could actually have killed him when he tried to help her.

he did modify the genophage, but he regrets it deeply right from the start of me2, that’s why he opened his clinic on omega. to cope with the guilt. and it’s important to remember he did it with good intention - he believed he’d save the galaxy from the brutality of the krogan. mordin, a rational scientist, actually turns to religion after he sees what damage he’s done, causing so many stillbirths. i think that’s an arc that really proves how bad he feels for what he’s done. and i also believe the reason why he is willing to leave the clinic and join shepard for a suicide mission is because he wants to atone for his past mistake.

i think mordin, despite of that huge past mistake - is one of the nicest characters in mass effect. he is INCREDIBLY empathetic with his patients, highly considerate towards their well being and feelings.

mordin is the kind of person that would realize jack is just a traumatized, scared person using aggression to cope with her fear - he would not take her insults and provocations and he’d treat her kindly, whereas other normandy crew members would be a dick to her in return.

he treats everyone with respect, regardless of whether they’re a bounty hunter, a krogan, a salarian, a turian, a criminal, a cerberus officer, a quarian, whatever. to mordin that doesn’t matter.

he’s incredibly open minded, polite, compassionate, kind.