#Putting it on my current blog cause why not

[tracle0]

~ Intro page ~

Howdy! I’m Trade, a 22-year-old writer and aspiring conservationist from the UK. I can often be found hunched over my sketchbook, walking in the wilderness, or travelling to whichever county I can find volunteering opportunities in. 

This blog is primarily for any odd interest I have, although I angle it as a writerblr the most. You can find my art and occasional writing under the #trade-marked tag on this here blog. Following this are the current, past, and future WIPs I have. Please enjoy!

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Prophet story (title pending) (in progress) - when a prophets brother is possessed by a god-killing sickness, a race begins to preserve or destroy the last relics of dead divinity, and refuse or give forgiveness for errors of the past. Featuring the complexities of brotherhood, the thin line between “prophet” and “schizophrenic”, a divine and glorious anger and a desperate attempt to reach someone who may already be lost to you. Tagged under #prophet wip

The Spiders Song (complete!) - With a devastating plague wrecking a kingdom and a city, a group of semi-experienced people try and retrieve a cure in time to save their homes - and try not to kill each other on the way. Featuring enemies-to-friends, a patron-based magic system with gods who have no problem getting involved in their servants lives, the exact lengths you would go through to save someone you love, and a funny little ghost.  Tagged under #tss 

The Crows Death (sequel to TSS) (on hold) - after retrieving the cure and escaping a cruel gods clutches, peace should be assured to our weary adventurers - until the crowned prince of Glalis is kidnapped and held as a sacrifice, leaving the rest of the team to try and track him down and save him before it’s too late. Featuring the gruelling process of confronting and recovering from trauma, a blood-feud so old that no one can remember why or how it started, intense contemplation of mortality, and a budding and doomed sapphic romance. Tagged under #tcd 

Short story collection (in progress) - a group of interlinked short stories, based in the TSS world, following the only servant to the Spider to ever escape their god, and the process they underwent as a child to adjust to the real world. Featuring adoptive parental figures, an extreme skew on how the world works, a secret our servant has to learn to keep to themselves, and a constant lure back to a manipulative and cloying god, who waits only a short walk away from this new haven. Tagged under #atlas 

Necromancer WIP (title pending) (developing) - the next generation after TCD. When the next necromancer is finally born in one of the highest and richest levels of Glalis, the kingdom seems to be fully recovering and back to normal - until a second is discovered in the lowest, poorest part. This spare servant is taken from her community to the palace, and starts to notice the discrepancies between where she was raised and what these privileged elites seem to have. Featuring strong class conflicts and ties, young children trying to make sense of a complex issue, an exploration of privilege and magic in deprived societies, and characters carried onwards from the previous stories because it’s my book and I do what I want. Untagged.

Ghost WIP (title pending) (developing) - a young girl is marked as the new bearer of the ghost crown, which is already bad news, made worse by the fact she’s still alive. Featuring a begrudgingly made father figure, a reverse heist, a race against bounty hunters to stay alive, and a corrupting and powerful heirloom, calling for one girls head. Tagged under #ghost wip 

Colour WIP (title pending) (developing) - when a rare purple mage is found living in isolation with her paranoid parents, she is taken under the wing of a blind red mage, and able to learn about her magic whilst staying connected to her roots. Featuring a magic system that merges Waterbending with the colour wheel, intense political and class divides, and an mentor/apprentice plot of some sort. Untagged. 

Death is a Silvertongue (complete!) - a mute Silvertongue tries to balance the guilt of manipulation with the responsibility of using their ability correctly - and then blows up a factory, adding a ghostly crowd to their conscious. Featuring intense platonic love, dabblings with faith, recovery, and me having a lot of fun with the extreme limitations of British Sign Language in America. Tagged under #dias 

[thetransfemininereview]

Do you have any recommendations for gaining access to these books? I have a pretty long list of ones I want to read but can't afford most of them. The library has the big ones (Whipping Girl, Detransition Baby, Nevada) but the newer or less well known ones have been difficult to find

No this is actually so real though. Let's talk about it.

One of the big problems that I'm trying to address here is the fact that there is a lack of ability for trans books to reach their perhaps core audience, trans people. Over the last few years trans librarians have been trying to increase the number of trans books in circulation, but that's super contingent on where you live. Not to mention the fact that, at least in the US, states are actively trying to criminalize circulating trans books in libraries.

I know Tumblr is allergic to economics a lot of the time, but you've gotta look at the math to understand why this is the current state of things. Essentially it's a vicious cycle. Lots of trans people can't afford to buy a $25 hardcover on a whim, and traditional publishers put a lot of stock into how well a book performs on release, cause that's how they make money. So when the core audience can't afford it and isn't marketable, they register that as a lower demand, which means that fewer trans books get published, fewer end up in libraries, and the cost of an individual book is driven higher. Low demand, high price. Then because the price is high, trans people cant afford the books, and the cycle continues.

It is the dilemma of the transfemme author that most of their core audience is also gonna be transfemme. It's a self-selecting process that's very hard to break out of. And at the end of the day, there just isn't very much money to go around in the trans community because trans people so frequently get cut off from generational wealth. So when you get an ecosystem of transfemmes selling books to other transfemmes who also sell books to them....

I took a class on the Sociology of Art a few years ago, and one of my core takeaways was that the boundaries of a field (yes my teacher liked Bourdieu, come for her ass, not mine) are fundamentally governed by institutions and entities with the money and power to dictate their rules of play. In Althusser's language, you would call those ISAs (Ideological State Apparatuses). When you read Weber, he talks about how culture needs to have some level of social legitimation in order to become a force of power in the world (I butchered that but it's the gist lol). And it's like.

The people who have the money to read the books dictate which books receive the money. Organizations like Lambda Literary, presses, big name publishers, etc. One of the big problems in the field of trans literature up to this point is that the only people who've had the money to produce social legitimation from the organizing schema/matrix of an ISA have also only chosen to read a very small slice of the extant literature. Then, because those non-profits and presses and companies only champion a small selection of books, that in turn dictates for those who have less money which of those books deserve social attention, critical acclaim, sales, library slots, etc.

And like, all of that is an illusion, but it produces a material reality for the transfemme author. It dictates the material conditions for the reproduction of said literature and who can participate in it.

So, what's to be done about it?

"Buzz" is a big deal in the publishing industry. A good review, an award, a thinkpiece - all of that can be the difference between a successful book and a flop. Publishers look for that. If nobody talks about a book and it doesn't sell well, they'll drop the author faster than you can say Susan. Again, vicious cycle. But like, at the end of the day, a "field," an "ISA," a "legitimated" work of art, that's all just a class prerogative. The different between a Very Important Literary Blog and a "person talking about books on the internet" is money. Like. It's just money. The reality of it is really banal.

It's who has the money to read books. It's who has the money and time to write about books. It's who has the money to gain institutional access to book. It's who has the money to read enough to say, "Oh, well that might seem true, but if you look at X, Y, and Z it's clearly not." It takes money to fact check. It takes money to challenge institutional myths. It takes money because when an institution makes a claim about a book and none of the people who care enough to argue with them have the cash to challenge it, the claim tends to stand.

And like, the honest truth is that between the books, the website, and the education, I've spent a lot of money bringing this website online in the form you're reading it in. A lot of the books I've read were really fucking expensive. I grew up in a wealthy family, my parents were accepting. They have both the means and the desire to support my passion projects. I'm lucky.

The goal of The Transfeminine Review is to create at least one independently trans-run website that can challenge that brand of institutional legitimation work from non-profits and big publishers and cis outlets, a website that can actually highlight transfeminine literature as it exists in the world, not as the Big 5 publishers have dictated it. Topside, Metonymy, Arsenal Pulp, LittlePuss, etc. They've all taken on that challenge from the angle of producing books, but there hasn't been a corollary trans secondary ecosystem dedicated to documenting and critiquing them. Or there is, but it's extremely diffuse and hard to find if you don't know exactly what you're looking for. Then there are the general queer outlets, like them. and whatnot, and they do their best but literature is a side hustle at best. There's the queer-helmed literary outlets like Electric Lit (shout out Denne Michele Norris) but they spend most of their time talking about cis authors. None of it is designed to help or review self-published literature from poor authors, and let's be frank, most transfeminine publishing is still done indie or self.

It's an investment, essentially. On the longshot, the hope is that this website will inspire others to do similar work, and that eventually through the collective efforts of trans authors and their readership, we can begin to change the math on trans publishing and help to spread it to a wider audience.

Now.

None of this changes the current reality that trans lit is expensive.

Unless you're lucky, you're probably not gonna find much trans lit at the local library even if you dig for it. Another good place to find free trans books is transreads.org, but their selection is mostly non-fiction, and the fiction is, again, largely the same few books you can find elsewhere. Another good online queer library is https://www.queerliberationlibrary.org/, which might be a good place to look (shoutout to Skye for bringing it to my attention!)

There are a couple of cheaper places to find trans books. If you shop around on itch.io, a lot of self-published trans authors have "name your price" models, which can be more accessible. Creators on itch will also bundle their work on a fairly regular basis, so you can get like 10-20 books for $10, which is, by my token, an excellent price.

If there's a particular author you're interested in, a lot of self-pub trans authors have Patreon accounts where they serialize their novels. You also can find serial (pre-edit) versions of a bunch of books on Scribblehub.

This has gotten steadily less affordable over the last few years cause Amazon is evil, but Kindle Unlimited ($11.99 a month, but there's a free trial) has thousands of trans books. Most of them are erotica, but like, there are a lot of hidden gems in there, and if you're a voracious enough reader, then it'll definitely be much cheaper per book than buying trad.

The problem with all of these, though, is that they tend to favor specific genres and tropes. Like there's only so much variety on itch.io or Scribblehub or transreads.org or KU. So if you like the genre conventions, then awesome! But if you don't it's probably not for you.

And none of it will give you access to some of the rare older tradpub books or the new but scarce releases that I've been going through unless you're willing to pay the full price for them.

I wish I had a better answer, but that's unfortunately the current state of the industry :/

Hopefully this ramble is helpful.

Beth

[crushmeeren]

UH UH UH UH UH

COULD YOU LIKE MAKE A ONESHOT OF HINATA AND A PREGNANT!READER? LIKE HINATA WATCHES US FEED OUR BABY AND HES LIKE "ooooo I wanna taste" AND UHM YEAH? IDK- IM SORRY IM NEW TO YOUR BLOG PLEASE IGNORE IF ITS OUT OF YOUR BOUNDARIES-

I absolutely CAN write this for you friend. It’s on the shorter side and I sort of rushed writing it, but nonetheless I hope you enjoy! 𖦆

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Master List Link ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

All characters aged up/18+.

⋆ FEM READER ⋆

It’s on a Saturday night when Shouyou finds himself unable to stop staring at you. To be fair, he always gawks at you, but tonight he would insist it’s different.

It’s been at least three months since you’d given birth to your baby boy and in the spirit of complete honesty, neither of you had wanted to touch sex with a ten foot pole since you were given the green light.

Being new parents is, for lack of a better word, exhausting. It’s bone achingly tiring and at this point you can’t even remember what it means to be turned on.

As the two of you relax side by side in your bed this evening, you’re preoccupied with nursing your son, Reno. You’ve lifted your shirt up to dangle around your neck and out of the way, freeing your breasts and making your nipples turn to pebbles due to the chilly air circulating the room.

Shouyou had been resting his head on the headboard, craning his neck to watch you with tender adoration as you nourish Reno.

He leers at the way your tits bounce gently against your chest as you get situated, shorts becoming a bit too snug the more you move around. The fullness of your squishy breasts and the soft tone of your voice when you speak to Reno suddenly has an all too familiar warmth rushing through his belly. The same lust that caused you to end up with Reno in the first place.

Shouyou shifts in place, cock jumping when he starts to get the powerful impulse to get his own taste of your tits. It’s as if the previous three months have built up an insurmountable tension inside of him, itching to be released and his veins start to pulse with arousal.

The breast that’s not currently being ravaged by a little monster begins to leak a few drops of ivory milk, and Shouyou has to bite his fingers and squeeze his toes together to keep from moaning as it trails down the swell of your tit.

“Sho?” You wave a hand in front of his face.

A flush burrows into his cheeks and his eyes flit up to meet yours, his expression somehow sheepish and coy simultaneously.

“Sorry baby, you just look stupid hot right now. I can’t stop thinking about taking a taste myself. I want to lick it off.” He pouts playfully. “Why does Reno get to have you all to himself?” Shouyou whines. Your head tilts back briefly in laughter as you maneuver your son up to burp him.

“Well he’s a baby for one.”

Reno babbles happily over your shoulder and Shouyou can’t help but grin widely and rub the little one’s back in soothing circular motions.

“Well yeah, but I don’t hear you saying no to it being my turn next,” he teases, reaching up a sneaky hand to grip a handful of your breast and squeeze. You bat his hand away and rise from the bed, letting your shirt fall back down into place.

“I’m putting Reno down in his room and then I’m gonna ride you, sound good Sho?” You speak as casually as if you’re talking about the weather and Shouyou vibrates in place, elbows getting caught in his shirt in his rush to strip naked.

Upon return you raise an eyebrow when you spot your husband stretched out lazily on the bed. He beams at you, one arm folded behind his head and his already stiff cock resting on his lower belly. He circles his shaft and teasingly tugs on his cock a few times.

The sight makes your pussy clench around nothing and you waste no time discarding your own clothes on the way to the bed. Once you crawl onto the bed and up to your other half, it’s like remembering how to ride a bike. A muscle reflex that’s come back to life.

Sinking down slowly onto Shouyou’s cock and bouncing in his lap reminds you of the first time you ever slept with him. The pleasure blisters through your limbs, heat rushing down your spine and you’re convinced you could cum from the stretch of his cock alone.

When he leans up and sucks your nipple into his mouth, you wail his name. You dig your nails into the back of his skull and throw your head back as milk flows freely across his tongue.

Your husband moans against you, swallowing a mouthful yet never letting go as he grips your waist, digs his heels into the mattress and snaps his hips upwards in frantic movements. You stay suspended in air over his lap and let him work you over in a way he only knows how.

In what must be less than five minutes, he’s dragging you over the edge. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and your pussy sucks in his cock like it never wants to let go. Shouyou thrusts a handful of times and then yanks you down into his lap, grinding up against your ass. He releases your nipple with a pop and his cock jerks while he fills you to the brim with a throaty moan of your name.

It takes a couple of moments of quiet panting, your forehead resting on his before you half heartedly punch him in the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for??” Shouyou rubs his shoulder dramatically and leans back to pout at you.

“That’s for not pulling out! I swear Shouyou, if we just made another baby I’m never having sex with you again!”

Shouyou’s eyes crinkle and he laughs. Then, he laughs even harder when you smush his face with your palm and push until he falls flat on his back. Your expression pinches as you stand, the sticky cum trailing down your inner thighs grossing you out.

Your husband snickers, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you flip him off, muttering under your breath as you make your way to the bathroom to get clean.

Reno chooses then to live up to his nickname of little demon and lets out an ear piercing scream. Shouyou calls out that he’s got it and jerkily tugs on his previously discarded pair of shorts before speed walking to Reno’s room.

As much as he wishes for you to get pregnant again, he knows now is not the time. One baby is complete chaos and he’s reminded of that even more when he strides into his son’s room where he’s currently wailing loudly enough to burst an eardrum.

Oh well, he can always try again.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Another Chick in the Nest - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy (But Not Actually); Siblings Struggling to Share Attention; Light Angst; Light Crying; Use of "You," No "Y/N," No Set Description of Reader or OC Bradshaw! Children

Summary: You and Rooster underestimate how much your daughter Nicole is struggling with becoming an older sister.

Master List

When you found out that you were expecting your second child, you and Rooster were ecstatic. It took longer the second time around to get pregnant, and so it felt all the more special when you finally got the news. The two of you were absolutely over the moon about having a second baby.

Your daughter, on the other hand, was not.

Nicole did not take to being a big sister quickly or happily. When you brought your second daughter, Caroline, home, Nicole did not enjoy being around her. Nicole always ran off whenever Caroline would start to cry and got territorial with you and Rooster whenever you spent an extended period of time around Caroline.

You and Rooster were concerned about your elder daughter, but you assumed that it would end. There was always an adjustment period with any new addition to a family. It would pass and Nicole would grow out of it quickly once she learned that just because she had a little sister, that didn’t mean that you and Rooster were replacing her.

But it all came to a head when Rooster, who Nicole normally had wrapped around her little finger, went to console a crying Caroline while putting Nicole to bed one night.

“Where are you going?” Nicole whined, turning to her dad.

“Your sister’s crying, honey. I’ll be right back,” Rooster promised, reaching for the door.

“No!” Nicole yelled loudly, causing you and Rooster to share a shocked look. “It’s my bedtime!”

“We know that, sweetie, but your sister needs some help because—”

“—But it’s my time,” Nicole complained, starting to sniffle before bursting out into tears. “You never spend time with me anymore!”

“Honey,” Rooster called softly, absolutely torn between his now two crying daughters.

You pulled Nicole to your chest, consoling her, and motioned for Rooster to run and quickly grab Caroline. Holding your eldest daughter close to your chest, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head, rocking her back and forth.

“Sweetheart, just because you have a sister now, that doesn’t mean that we love you any less,” you told Nicole, rubbing her back slowly as she continued to sob. “Your sister just needs some more attention because she’s a baby, that’s all.”

“But—it’s—my—time—now!” Nicole demanded between gasps of air and sobs.

“I know, honey, and I’m sorry about that,” you replied softly, looking up as Rooster entered Nicole's bedroom with a still crying Caroline in his arms.

With surprising smoothness, you and Rooster traded off daughters. You took Caroline into your arms and held her against your chest as Rooster gently pulled Nicole from your side. Picking her up and resting her head against his shoulder, Rooster sat down next to you and rubbed Nicole’s back as she continued to cry, burying her face deeper into his neck.

“Nikki, honey, you know that we love you so much, right? And nothing’s ever going to change that,” Rooster told your eldest daughter.  

“Then why don’t you spend any time with me anymore?” Nicole whimpered, causing Rooster to rest his head on top of her own, in a bid to try and hide his expression from her.

“Because . . .” Rooster began, trying to come up with something.

In reality, the both of you had been swamped lately. Between Caroline being born and Rooster getting a promotion at work, there had barely been any free time in your lives. Hell, even you and Rooster had talked about how your own relationship had taken a hit with the current busyness.

But the two of you signed up for another baby and Rooster’s job. Nicole didn’t.

Sharing a look, you and Rooster had a silent conversation as the two of you tried to comfort your daughters. Caroline fell asleep first and Nicole followed her after Rooster climbed into bed with her for a few minutes. Tucking both of your daughters into their separate beds, you and Rooster went back to your bedroom together.

“We need to do something for Nikki,” Rooster spoked softly, looking on the edge of tears himself.

“I didn’t realize that she was that upset about it,” you murmured, holding a hand to your head. “We need to fix this.”

“ASAP,” Rooster agreed, nodding quickly.

~~~~~

The next weekend that Rooster had off, the two of you got the girls dressed and into the car early in the morning. Caroline was already up early, but Nicole quickly fell back to sleep as soon as Rooster strapped her into her car seat. Driving across town to Maverick and Penny’s house, you and Rooster cracked the windows for Nicole and got Caroline and her bag out.

“Thank you for watching her,” Rooster told Maverick.

“Any time,” Maverick assured Rooster, taking Caroline’s carrier.

“I just fed her twenty minutes ago, so she should be fine for a few more hours,” you stated, handing over the baby bag to Penny. “There’s plenty of milk in the cooler, but you have the key to our house if you need any more.”

“We’ve got it handled,” Penny promised you and Rooster.

“Now, get on the road before the traffic gets too bad.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Rooster replied jokingly, mockingly saluting Maverick.

~~~~~

Nikki slowly started to wake up while Rooster was still driving to your surprise destination. She rubbed her eyes dramatically and looking around the car. And the first thing that she noticed was the fact that her little sister’s baby carrier was gone.

“Where’s Sissy?” Nicole asked, blinking with confusion.

“Oh, she’s staying with Grandpa Mav for the day,” you responded, smiling back at your daughter. “How did you sleep, baby?” 

“Good,” Nicole replied softly, sitting up and looking out the window. “Where are we?”

“We’re about twenty minutes away from a surprise,” Rooster stated, glancing back at Nikki through the rearview mirror.

“A surprise?” Nicole asked. She frowned. “It’s not my birthday.”

“No, it’s not your birthday, honey,” you laughed, turning around. "But we wanted to spend some more time with you. Is that alright?"

"Yeah," Nikki replied after a moment of deliberation, causing you and Rooster to share a laugh.

~~~~~

Nicole kicked her little feet excitedly as Rooster carried her towards the entrance to the zoo. After you were scanned in, Nikki was fully emersed in the moment. Getting down from Rooster's arm, Nikki grabbed his hand and started to drag him around the place.

"Do you want to feed the giraffes?" Rooster asked, causing Nicole to grin and nod.

You stepped back to take a video of the moment as your daughter and Rooster stood by the gate. The zookeeper offered your daughter some vegetables to offer to the giraffes and Nikki was practically bouncing with excitement. Up until the actual giraffes started to try and grab the food from her, that is.

"Daddy!" Nikki screeched, clinging to Rooster like she was worried that the giraffe would pick her up. Rooster laughed and took the food from her hand to offer to the giraffes.

"They just want the food, that's all," Rooster tried to coax your daughter, but she continued to hold onto him with a death grip. You would have needed a full team to pull her off of him.

"I think that's the last time we do that," you mused, sharing a look with your husband.

"I thought it was fun."

"You're just happy that she's refusing to let go of you," you corrected him, shaking your head at your husband.

After a brief safari ride, the three of you made it to the bird section of the zoo. Nikki was mostly fascinated by the penguins and probably would have spent the whole afternoon there if you and Rooster hadn't pulled her away.

"They can't even fly," Rooster jokingly argued with your daughter, who turned to him with an offended expression.

"They can fly better than you!" Nikki snapped back.

"You just got burned by a four-year-old. You've lost your touch, Bradshaw," you teased your husband, bumping him with your hip.

"You'll pay for that later," Rooster teased Nikki, who stared up at him defiantly with her arms crossed over her chest. Turning to you, he added with a wink, "And you will too."

"Happy to, Commander," you replied with a small smirk. Turning to your daughter, you offered Nikki your hand. "Now, let's get some lunch. And then some ice cream."

~~~~~

Rooster carried Nikki out of the park as she slept against his chest while you carried her little souvenir.  He placed her carefully into her car seat, buckled her in, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before shutting the door.

You stopped to grab Caroline from Maverick and Penny before heading home. You fed Caroline and changed her diaper before putting her down for the night. Walking across the hall to Nicole’s room, you stood in the doorway and smiled as you watched Rooster gently put Nikki to bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "We love you."

You walked over and gave her a kiss goodnight and Rooster did the same with Caroline before the two of you returned to your bedroom. You took a quick shared shower and cuddled up in bed together, before falling into a deep sleep as soon as your heads hit the pillow.

[lovverletters]

My Boy

《Yandere!Playboy X Taken! Male Reader》

Note that this is a reupload from my previous blog @hyerinrose

T/W : yandere behaviour, infidelity, suicidal thoughts, possessive behaviour, internalised homophobia, Obsessive behaviour.

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

Everything was perfect. (Name) is content with the cards he has been dealt with in his life. He had a loving and supportive family, his academics performance were outstanding and most importantly he is dating the girl of his dream, Maya.

Although they had only been going out for a few months, (Name) could already picture a future with the girl. Call him a hopeless romantic but he can't help it!

"(Nameeeeee) you're spacing out againn. Am I that boring?"

Maya voice snapped him out of his thoughts.The two were currently on a date at an ice cream parlour. (Name) stared at his girlfriend who's sitting across the table, admiring her beauty.

(Name) might be biased but Maya is an absolute beauty in his eyes. Her long dirty blonde hair was tied into a braid and slung against her shoulder, green irises and specks of freckles complimented her already pretty face.

"It's not like that, Aya. You're so beautiful I can't help but be put into a trance" (Name) said with a smile that eventually broke into a grin as Maya grew flustered.

"Oh hush you! S-stop laughing at me (Nameeee)!

"Maya flicked her matcha flavoured treats at him, to which (Name) retaliated by flicking his own (F/Flavour) ice cream.

The display of affection between the two was ignored by many other except for one individual who stared at them with curious eyes. Sapphire eyes trailed over the couple that was absorbed in their own world, foolishly in love.

Xavier first reaction towards the couple was envy. He had been pursuing Maya for months to add to his ever-growing list of girls he had bedded. However he was always met with hard-cold refusal from her.

'She rejected me for this loser of a man? Unbelievable' He sneered in his mind.

He then observed the 'loser' Maya had chose over him. (H/C) flowed gently with the breeze, his (E/C) twinkled with happiness as he goof around with the girl. (Name) smiled brightly that it could put the sun to shame.

As he thought, Plain. Boring. Average.

The man were not even close to Xavier's level, he's practically a dirt in his eyes. Obviously Xavier is better than that loser? He's going to show Maya that he's better than him.

'No matter what, I'm going to take her away from you'

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sounds were numbing Xavier's brain the longer the hours dragged on. Half of the students were already asleep 10 minutes into the lesson.

He would've been sleeping too had he not been keeping his eyes trained on his rival who's only two seats away from him. Xavier swore he's only staring because he needs to find a dirt on (Name).

".... Mr (Name), you would be pairing with Mr Xavier for this project" His teacher called out the two boys' names causing both of them to stare at each other incredulously.

"With the pairings have been set, be sure to turn in your work by next week. Class is dismiss" the teacher wave them off and left the classroom.

The two boys had different feelings in being paired with one another. (Name) was devastated, Xavier seems like a dickhead who would force him to do all the work and take all the credits afterward. Alas, he had to push through anyway, the project was 20% of his grades.

Xavier however was elated, warmth spreads throughout his body at the mention of his and (Name)'s name together. Great! Now Xavier can spend a lot of time observing (Name) even closeㅡ

Wait. Why the hell is he acting like this? He's not into (Name).

He's after Maya! Xavier's not.. gay is he? No, he's not.

"Hey" (Name)'s voice jolted the player from his spiralling thoughts. His cheeks heats up and he could feel his heart speeds up.

'I'm just surprised is all. Nothing weird' he reasoned.

"What? Hurry up, I've got no time for nobodies like you" Those words slip out of his tongue easily as if he wasn't panicking with having (Name) this close to him.

The (H/C) male sighed through his nose and held out his phone. Xavier rose his eyebrow at the action.

"I need your numbers for this project. I'll delete it after we're done if it bother you so much" (Name) open his contacts to add Xavier's info.

Surprisingly, Xavier obediently agrees and handed over his phone for (Name) to input his own numbers with no complaint.

"Thanks. I'll contact you about the details later" (Name) then left him all alone in the classroom with conflicted feeling brewing inside of him.

'Damnit.. what is wrong with me?'

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

A week went by and Xavier had made a ground breaking discovery about himself.

After constant denial of his feelings, he had finally came to the conclusion that the one he was interested in wasn't Maya. No, it was her boyfriend, (Name).

The short time they spent together were the push he needed to realise his infatuation with the male. All those things he described (Name) were the exact opposite of what he truly is.

(Name) was kind to him despite being reluctant to pair up with him early on, his sense of humour was immaculate. Xavier had never laughed so hard in his life before the jokes (Name) would crack while working through their project.

(Name) is perfect. He's everything Xavier had been looking for.

Xavier obsesses over the (H/C) male, stalking him, stealing little trinkets (Name) left by accident. Taking millions of polaroids and sticking them to his walls.

However Xavier was brought back to reality when they submitted the project. (Name) was never his, the time they spent together were that of a friends. Soon his beloved will go back to being around that pest of a girl.

His previous envy were now turned towards Maya. The time (Name) spent with her could've been with him. (Name)'s kisses should've belongs to him, (Name)'s affection and love should've belongs to him. (Name)'s everything should've belong to him!

Xavier decided that he had enough of this and will take things to his own matter. One way or another, (Name) will be his.

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

(Name) felt tears welling up his eyes as he watches the video on his phone. It was all over the school, his girlfriend Maya had cheated on him with his friend, Xavier.

He closed the video and shut his phone off as he furiously wiped his tears. The students around him gave him a pity look, they wouldn't let this slide. (Name), the most sweetest guy is being hurt by his girlfriend?

They're going to make her life a living hell until she either moves away or take her own life.

Xavier approached (Name) who was sobbing in one of the stalls. The (H/C) took notice of this immediately and scrambled to walk away. He's not ready to face with the man he thought was his friend.

"Oh no you don't, (Name). Don't you dare run away from me!" Xavier pinned the boy on the stall. Leaving him no room to escape.

"Whatㅡ what else do you want from me?! You slept with my girlfriendㅡ what more do you want?" (Name) said while struggling under Xavier's surprisingly strong hold.

His breath hitches when the player got close to his face, their nose touching.

"You. I want you. Everything I've done is for you, (Name). I had to get rid of her since she was nothing more than a homewrecker! You belong to me (Name) and I had enough of seeing her taking things from you that were supposed to be mine!" Xavier were manic, his blue eyes were crazed.

"Whaㅡ" (Name) were terrified.

"Hey, (Name). I love you a lot you know? And I'm going to show you it~"

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

[merminns]

A happy ending and beautiful beginning

Bakugo x reader

❧ Word Count: 0.5k

❧ this is my take on soft big boy katsuki. Just a little something to warm up with, and I'll be sticking with the old theme until I figure out what to do with the blog.

gn reader

Bakugo katsuki was always rough around the edges.

That was a well known fact.

He's brash and loud, he doesn't take shit from anyone and likes to make it a point how he's better than everyone else.

Everyone warned him that he'd end up lonely one day. That he'd never manage to befriend anybody, that he'd never find a partner.

He didn't care, he didn't want friends, didn't care for a partner, all he wanted was to become the best. And he dedicated his entire life to reach that goal, to become the greatest hero in existence, and he made sure everyone knows about it too, always advertising how he'd crush everyone else.

That's why he never thought he'd find himself here, in a warm cozy house that's currently cramped with all of those he cares about, his family, his friends and...You.

You with your bright smile and twinkling eyes and a heart too pure for this world. It was no wonder that he fell for you, but the fact that you returned that love was baffling to him. You were the one thing that he never dreamed he'd have.

He never understood how you managed to see past his sharp edges and rough front. How you saw all of him, all of his flaws, and still loved him.

Now, there are people who still criticize his personality, who wonder aloud about how someone like him could manage to end up with you. And even though he sometimes finds it hard to believe too, he doesn't care what anyone else says. Cause what he has now proves they've been wrong all along.

Cause here he is now, sharing his life with someone he loves in ways he never thought possible, someone he would give his life for. He knew deep down that he'd rip the world apart if only it mean you'd give him a smile, just a tiny tired smile like the one on your face right now as you're thanking everyone who came to congratulate you.

Bakugo moved from where he stood in the opposite corner of the room to you, and with every step he took closer to you his heart warmed a little more. Until he reached you, bending down to land a light kiss on your forehead and take the tiny bundle rest in your arms. The sleeping little baby that was the main attraction of the night, the reason everyone gathered around to congratulate you. His child. Your child. And as he held the baby in his arms he felt his heart melting at how beautiful they were, your little creation.

Then with eyes so bright and suspiciously watery, bakugo started on his way to put your baby in their crib threating his gathered loved ones that he's going to murder whoever disturbs his child's sleep.

[avocado-writing]

Recently started play BG3, only on act 2 right now lol. I found your blog because this shit is my current hyper fixation and I love your writing. I was wondering if you could write how the BG3 cast would react to Tav haveing hanahaki disease.

Love you're writing!

Astarion

Oh, when he notices, he feels an odd lurch in his chest.

You’re in love with someone? Who? It had better be him, he’s put effort into seducing you.

When he works out that he’s the object of your desire he’s over the moon! And then… ah. But it is a disease after all.

A lot of intense emotions flow through him. Of course he loves you, he’d be a fool not to. But can he admit that to you? Open his heart enough to let you in?

He sees you hacking up blood red roses and thinks, gods, if a few simple words are all this will take to solve it, why wouldn’t he?

He sits down next to you as you wipe your mouth, all awkward angles and longing gazes. Not his usual suave self at all. You go to ask him what’s wrong, and he blurts out that he loves you like he’s under duress.

You blink, amazed if slightly mortified by his tone, but then your lips curl into a smile. When you kiss him your mouth tastes of rosewater. Never does another petal pass your lips, and never does Astarion regret his confession.

Gale

When he sees you bringing up Sussur petals, he panics. It’s affecting your magic after all. Slowing your spells and causing lethargy in your casting.

He throws himself into research. Night and day he’s in his books looking for a cure. He rarely sleeps any more. Not until he comes up with a solution for you.

You’re getting worse and he’s being driven mad by it. If he could find out who you love he could help, but he simply has no idea…

Silly wizard has no idea the solution is right under his nose. Always has been. Because of course he loves you too, wants nothing more than to hold you and have you as his.

It takes the rest of the camp pointing it out to him before he realises, and doesn’t know how he could be so dense… but he knows he’s the luckiest man in the world if you love him.

He confesses in the middle of your coughing fit. The petals stop immediately. He would seal the look of adoration you give him into his heart forever.

No more Sussur. No more problems. Just joy.

Wyll

He’s seen this a dozen times in his youth. Time and time again people have perished from their courtly love in a flurry of flowers.

When he sees it happening with you? Oh, he knows immediately what is happening.

Doesn’t believe you’d be in love with him… but then he sees the loving looks you give him, the softness in your eyes. It clicks into place rather quickly.

And when he realises, you best bet he’s making a move to cure you.

An immediate embrace. A kiss where he tastes the petals on your lips. Your eyes are wide, but your throat is clear.

“I love you,” he states, no hesitations, just facts. There will be time for great romance later, but right now he just needs to make sure you’re safe.

When he’s certain your condition is cleared, no more coughing, he embraces you long and lovingly. Tells you what you mean to him. And when you plan your wedding… there will be no flowers.

Karlach

Panics when she finds you coughing petals. She might have been in Avernus for the past decade, but she knows hanahaki when she sees it.

Corners you one night and begs you to tell her who you’ve fallen for. She’ll help you confess!! After all, how could anyone not feel the same about you? Anything is better than this, this purgatory of petals where love is being kept secret.

Your smile is wobbly when you tell her there might be a time span on this person’s love. She thinks, oh, Gale? Because of the orb?

It takes a moment for things to fall into place. The way you look at her. Like she hung the stars.

“Oh, fuck. It’s me isn’t it?”

You go to leave, she grabs you and holds you back. Pulls you into a kiss. Only stops to tell you that she loves you. Goes right back to kissing.

It’s then she decides not to die. To find a way to live with you, even if it means returning to hell. How could she abandon you, when you love her so much?

Lae’zel

She is so utterly confused when you start hacking up petals. Is it a disease? Some sign of weakness? It is certainly nothing that a gith has ever experienced, nor would fall foul of. They are too strong.

Lae’zel mocks you at first, like she mocks everything, but it’s in order to hide how much seeing you suffer hurts her. She is a fool to have affections for someone so weak.

… isn’t she?

One night she corners Gale (quite intimidatingly) and gets him to inform her of your condition. He tells her all about hanahaki, and she says she must find out who you are in love with and get them to return your affections.

Gale blinks. “Lae’zel… it’s you.”

Oh.

It takes her a moment to digest this. She leaves Gale abruptly (“goodbye then?”), finds you, and drags you to privacy.

“I have been told to cure your disease you need a confession of love. This is my confession.”

The petals do not stop as you cough. With a small smile, a little smug, you tell her she has to be more specific. She huffs and you laugh.

She tells you she loves you in every language she knows. It works.

Shadowheart

The most perceptive of the bunch, Shadowheart knows you are in love with her from the moment you cough up Night Orchid petals.

It’s not subtle that you’re sweet on her. But she doesn’t say anything in return - she’s a sharran, after all, and doesn’t know how you fit with her future of being a dark justiciar.

And then… she finds selûne, and it changes. All of it. Especially her view of you. She can open her heart without fear now and she wants to welcome you in it.

She takes you aside one night. Sets up dinner. A bottle of the wine you shared on that first night by the cliff. Takes your hand and tells you she loves you, as easily as if she’s commenting on the weather.

You stop coughing. The petals cease. Your face lights up. She knows she wouldn’t change this for the world.

[midmourn]

mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)

title mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)

pairing huang renjun x gender neutral!reader

summary you and your friends always sit at the table a couple down from mine and talk shit in madarin, which happens to be a language i’m currently learning. i’ve been eavesdropping to try and improve my listening comprehension and oh my god are you actually talking about how pretty i am???

characters huang renjun, zhong chenle [nct], liu yangyang [wayv], hwang yeji [itzy]

warnings none but it does imply you speak korean as well

word count 812

author’s note rewrite from my old blog. italics = mandarin

Here’s the thing: you were pretty firm on privacy. You didn’t like yours getting invaded by nosy people, and even have scolded so many for doing so. Yet, here you were; eavesdropping. You were no better than them.

You usually tried to ignore the group of boys that always sat at the same table, talking shit about people in their lives in Mandarin.

But could anyone really blame you? When the pretty boy with stars for eyes kept glancing over in your direction and commenting to his friends in Mandarin, “Aren’t they so pretty? … No, the one facing us.”

You ducked your head, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you barely managed to hide your growing smile. If you just smiled at seemingly nothing, you’d seem like a weirdo.

Yeji eyed you with a weird look, brows furrowing, “What’s got you all smiley, huh?” She poked you in the arm with her pen.

You shushed her quietly, shaking your head as you leaned in to whisper to her, “You see the boy with the white cardigan?” When she briefly looked over and nodded, you continued, “He’s telling his friend about how pretty I am in Mandarin.” You giggle.

A grin rose on her lips, looking over again, “What’s he saying now?”

“His friend’s asking why he won’t come talk to me,” you keep your head down, seemingly focused on your laptop. “Stop looking over there! You’ll get us caught.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she giggled, looking down at her notebook. “Hey, what’s the answer for number two?”

“You’re only on two?” Your mouth dropped open in shock. Yeji shrugged, cheeks flaring. “It’s C. Anyways, he’s saying he won’t ‘cause he doesn’t want to embarrass himself if I was already taken,” you hum, glancing up momentarily and accidentally making eye contact with the cute boy.

His cheeks flushed red, head snapping back to his friends, “They just caught me looking at them! See!” His friend’s head turned to look at you, “No! Don’t look, dumbass!”

“I agree, he’s a dumbass, but look at what?” A dark haired boy joined the conversation, speaking in Korean instead of Mandarin.

His friend hushed him, “Shut up! Don’t speak in Korean.”

The boy blinked.

“Don’t look, but you see the person studying with the girl with braids in her hair behind me?” The boy with his back towards you asked the new boy. You could see out of the corner of your eye that the new boy looked towards your direction anyway.

“Dude,” the cute boy groaned in exasperation, putting his face in his hands.

“He asked if I could see them! How was I not supposed to look?”

“Whatever, Renjun thinks they’re pretty.” Renjun was the boy’s name, huh? You smiled to yourself.

“They are. Go tell them that, ge,” the boy said.

“Are you crazy? I’m not going to make a fool out of myself!” The cute boy’s—Renjun— voice cracked cutely at the end.

“Why not? You don’t know what will happen!” The other nameless boy said.

“They’re way too pretty for me,” Renjun shook his head again, cheeks red as he kept making small glances to you. You felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. “I said no,” he added firmly in Korean when the boy opened his mouth to speak again.

The boy shrugged, “Fine, I will.” Ignoring Renjun’s protests, he stood and made his way to you. Your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of confrontation. You scribbled a word on your notebook, pretending to be busy. When he approached your table, both you and Yeji looked up. “Hi, I’m Chenle. You see my friend over there?” Your heads turned to see that Renjun was now clutching the menu, hiding behind it. Chenle sighed in disappointment, “Yeah, the weirdo hiding behind the menu. Anyways, he thinks you’re pretty.”

You knew this already, but your cheeks flushed red. You smiled, “I know.” Chenle’s brows rose in shock at your confession and you could hear the other boy voice his confusion at their table, making you giggle. “I know Mandarin.” You looked at the time on your phone and smiled again, looking up at Yeji, “It’s getting late, my mom will kill me if I’m not home before eight.” Chenle watched as the two of you got up.

You grabbed a paper and pen, quickly writing on it before giving it to Chenle, “Give this to your friend.” You looked up and sent a wink, but in your head, you were freaking out, but managed to keep your cool.

You finished packing your things up and smiled one last time at the group of boys before walking out with your friend.

Renjun grabbed the paper hastily from Chenle and started to read it, his cheeks getting even more red if possible.

i think you’re pretty cute too, and my name’s y/n.

so now that you know mine, i think it’s fair enough that i know yours. :)

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

- y/n <3

main masterlist

networks @k-films

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Heyy!! I absolutely ✨LOVE✨ your work I've basically been stalking your blog😅. But anyway I was wondering if you could please, please do Nozel, Fuegoleon,and William where their s/o (preferably f!) yells or very calmly (your choice, does not matter which or how) says their full name in front of family/friends/squad (again your choice could be all, depends on you) and their reaction to it. I completely understand if you don't want to do it or it takes you a while to get to it thank you for your work regardless! I wish you well!! ❤❤❤

Hiya! I am overjoyed that you like my fics!!! And though I took my sweet time with this, I hope that you still enjoy it <3

Pairings: Nozel x f!reader, Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: hurt-comfort?, and some giggles ?? Total length: ~2k (about 650 words each) Contains: misunderstandings, reader raising her voice to the guys/displays anger to them, they make up in the end ('cause it was a misunderstanding), hurt-comfort, so fluffy ends

Nozel

You had a favourite pen. The kind in which you could change the ink cartilage, and thus keep using the pen for years and years. Though the ink dispensing mechanism had broken some years ago, you held onto the pen itself for sentimental value.

And it was always in a specific drawer in your room.

However, one day when you opened the drawer, the pen case nor the pen were there.

You scrambled through the drawer, first thinking to yourself that it must’ve just been pushed back, but after scouring through the drawer, the box, nor the pen, didn’t surface.

Your mind jumped to the idea of a servant having taken it, but quickly realized that it didn’t make sense. They didn’t go through drawers such as this one. ‘Such as this one’ because they obviously folded your clothes and put them into your clothing drawers. But this one was of no importance to the servants. And even if they had, for any reason, chosen to go through other drawers in the room, the pen case was among the least likely things to take.

Which meant that there was only one other person, who could’ve likely taken it. Your husband.

He was currently with the rest of the Eagles at the squad’s training grounds, and though he was occupied, you wanted to, needed to know now why he had discarded your favourite pen. Yes, sure, it was broken, but there was no harm in holding onto such a small item. You had space!

So, you stomped through the corridors to the training grounds, and spotted him some distance away, looking at his knights. Seeming somewhat uninterested. Or just held his poker face.

This was where he held his poker face. Looked as if nothing had happened.

And it spiked a kind of annoyance, anger even, in you, which made you yell out to him: “Nozel Evander Silva!”

He turned to look.

Other knights turned to look.

The trainings halted for a moment, and everyone just looked at you, glaring at Nozel.

He looked to the knights standing next to him, and said something, before walking towards you, as you crossed your arms and waited for him to get to you. And as he did, he looked at you, with concern on his face, hidden behind the mask of the squad captain.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, the syllables revealing more of his feelings than the expression that quivered, trying to upkeep the facade of a strong, unfaltering squad captain.

“Where. Is. My. Pen?” You asked, feeling the annoyance, almost anger, bubbling to the surface. “You know how much it means to me!” You said with a grave tone, without raising your voice, so that the knights wouldn’t hear. There was no need for them to know such details of your personal life.

His eyes closed in a slow blink, and a sigh escaped his lips. “I was hoping to surprise you,” he said with a hint of melancholy.

You frowned, not sure what, exactly, he meant by it.

“I thought to get it fixed, so that you might use it again, instead of just having it sit in that drawer,” he admitted.

And you... felt a wide variety of emotions. Affection, joy, but also guilt, guilt for having thought that he would have discarded it.

So, you took a step forward, and wrapped your arms around his middle.

He tensed in your embrace, and you could feel the ever so slight movement of his head to look back towards his knights. The look over his shoulder due to the public display of affection.

But he didn’t push away.

And you did let go, after a brief moment. You just needed him to know that he was important to you, and you appreciated the gesture he did for you.

Fuegoleon

Fuegoleon has asked you to find his calendar for him, so that me might go straight from the training session with his knights to the meeting at the castle.

And you happily obliged with the request. After all, you did want to help him with his duties and make his life easier, just like he did for you.

So, you entered his office, and begun looking for the calendar. It wasn’t on the desk, not on first glance at least, so it must’ve been in the desk drawer. Or that seemed like the most likely conclusion to make, which is why you made your way to his desk, circling onto the side of his chair.

Your hands moved to the drawers, but... as your gaze became directed down, you noticed your name on a piece of paper, which made your curiosity pique. After all, because your name was on it, it must’ve concerned you, right? So, it was alright if you looked at what it said on that piece of paper. Right?

You slid the paper along the surface of the desk closer to you, and started skimming it through. But... as you did, and your eyes landed on the line of “...will not be ordered on another mission” anger bubbled inside of you.

What did he mean you weren’t going to be assigned another mission?! Did he not think that you could handle it?!

You clenched the paper in your hand and stormed out of the room with one intention, and one intention only: to find your husband and demand an explanation.

Luckily, you knew exactly where to find him, so you made your way to the training grounds, and locked eyes on him as soon as you were outside.

You walked up to him, as his knights slowly, while trying not to seem like they were looking, looked at you. After all, perhaps there was a need to pause the training, because the captain was overseeing it, after all.

“Fuegoleon. Alexander. Vermillion,” you spoke in a calm manner, but enunciated every name, every syllable, while looking straight in the eye.

You could see his eyes flicker, but he continued to look at you. “Yes?” There was hesitance in his tone, as if puzzled what was the cause of all this.

“What did you do?” You asked, with an equally cold tone as before.

“I... really couldn’t tell you,” he replied with a frown and an uncertain, confused tone as he continued to look at you.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a quirked eyebrow.

“Could we perhaps go to the side to discuss this through?” He suggested, to which you agreed with a nod. There wasn’t, really, a reason to make this into a public spectacle after all, and, he did deserve a chance to explain. He was a reasonable man. After all. It seemed. You had supposed him to be one.

But even before you had stopped on your way to the sidelines, you looked at him while holding that paper forward.

“What does this mean?!” You demanded to know. “Do you not trust me on missions? Is that why you wouldn’t assign me on one anymore?”

He blinked. Looked at the paper. And then back to you.

Then his lips became laced with... hints of amusement, and an apology. “My love... you’re more than welcome to partake on missions in the future. The formulation of ‘will not be ordered’ is simply a technicality to give you more freedom of choosing your missions,” he explained. “Of course the difficulty level of your missions would be expected to only grow, but this is more to give you, on paper, a say as to which mission you will embark on, if there are multiple ones of similar difficulty level active simultaneously.” He pointed to another line on the bottom of the page. “See?” There was another apology in his tone.

“Oh.” You uttered, looking at the line.

“But I do apologise,” he continued. “I should have discussed it with you, instead of having you find out this way.”

“You should,” you said, while looking down to the side. “But... I also... shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions... I know you well enough,” you continued, because, it really would have been out of place for him to just make such a decision as to pull you away from missions entirely all on his own.

“Truce?” He asked, looking at you with a gentle gaze that bore all his affection and devotion to you.

“Truce,” you agreed while feeling warmth on your cheeks.

It had been a simple misunderstanding, and miscommunication. But. It wouldn’t come in between of the two of you.

William

William’s office had been so barren before you had entered his life. Which is why the first thing you got for him, was a plant into his office.

He was a little bit confused about it, but didn’t turn down the gift. And as you explained that it’d make the air in his office better, by producing more oxygen, and would add some life and colour in there, he nodded in understanding.

And he begun taking good care of it. Watered it regularly, changed its soil and gave it nutrients if there was a need. Which really warmed your heart, because ... in a weird way, it was like he was tending to your relationship through the plant.

However, one morning when you entered his office. The plant wasn’t there. Which you thought was odd. So, you looked around the office, and the bedroom, but... it didn’t seem to be... anywhere?

Your mind begun circling with all kinds of possibilities, until... it landed on the plant having died and him having thrown it away. And that made you feel hurt. Sad. Angry.

You had looked at him tend to the plant so carefully, and now he had just thrown it away? You would’ve helped him take care of it, if he had only asked, but instead he has just... disposed of it.

So... he would hear about it. Oh, he would most certainly hear about it.

You walked out of the room with a mission to find him, which is why you begun circling around the base. You looked at every, single, possible room in which you thought he could be, until you spotted him from the window while talking to his knights.

Your hand grasped onto the handle of the window, and you opened it with a swift motion.

“William Thaddeus Vangeance!” You yelled, making him look at you. “Don’t. Move. One. Inch! I need to have a word with you!”

And you closed the window before racing down and outside, where he was still standing, and his knights were... still there? This didn’t really concern them, and it looked like they intuitively realized it as you marched over to William.

“Where is the plant?” You asked, looking straight at him.

He frowned, and his eyes flickered to his knights, to whom he said as a side note: “You’re dismissed,” to which the knights nodded and begun walking away.

“Where is the plant?” You repeated.

He frowned again, as if to connect the dots.

And then it dawned on him.

“Oh, the plant is on the balcony to get a little bit more sunlight,” he replied with a baffled look.

You blinked.

And looked at him.

“It looked a little down so... I thought that some more sun would do it good?” He said, sounding a little but uncertain.

“So... you didn’t .. throw it away,” you uttered out loud, without really meaning to.

“No..?” He said with a questioning frown. “Why would I throw it away?”

“No reason,” you said while cupping his face.

And he continued to give you a baffled look as you placed a kiss onto his cheek.

He really was tending to it. The plant, and your relationship

[fairuzfan]

hello!! I don't know if this is appropriate (pls do not feel obligated to answer) but i was wondering what were ur thoughts on the israeli grass-roots movement Standing Together. I first found out abt them through a tumblr post that shared this substack article (https://theconnector.substack.com/p/if-its-not-helping-then-shut-the). the article immediately put an extremely bad taste in my mouth towards the movement and its founders, but i dont know if i'm being overly-critical of them.

Hey thanks for sending this in. No worries, it's totally ok. I was actually debating whether or not to publish this, mostly because I was afraid this would distract from Gaza, but I decided that it's imperative to stop normalizers from squeezing their way into the movement. Remember, the demands of the Palestinian people begin and end with liberation. Everything else is irrelevant and pointless to the cause.

So first off — I don't think you're being overly-critical of them at all. The first red flag of both this article and the group themselves is that they often exchange "Palestinian" with "Arab" and "Israeli" with "Jewish." That right off the bat shows me they have no respect for Palestinians and see Jewish people and Palestinians as mutually exclusive categories. I've spoken on this blog before about how racist it is to assume no Palestinian is Jewish and vice versa and this group really illustrates the forced division they imagine within their own goals and wording.

The article itself is quite anti-Palestinian in its erasure — it talks about avoiding words like "genocide," and "apartheid," and "ethnic cleansing" because "they are serious people trying to actually get something done." I really don't understand why not using those words makes you a serious person. If anything, it erases a description of how to define what it happening to Palestinians.

The whole redefinition of "peace" in this article and group is just calmness. These people are not advocating for peace in which families are reunited and land is given back — they are advocating for a muted version of the status quo of the current political system, just with less obviously fanatical governments. Peace cannot be attained when the people directly affected cannot have a say in defining it. They won't even say the word "apartheid." It's not some scholarly word with no meaning — it has actual consequences and effects on people (click). Palestinians are tried in military court. Their movement is monitored and restricted. It means that there are different legal systems for different people (click)! If you reject that this exists, then you're not interested in making the lives of Palestinians better — you're only interested in making your own life more comfortable.

As soon as you remove our ability to say words like "genocide" and "apartheid", you remove our ability to determine what happens specifically to Palestinians based on racism. By only saying "Palestinians are getting killed" an Israeli can come in and say "well so am I, by Hamas! Let's work together to end the killing" when it ignores that this is a systematic effort to completely wipe out all trace of Palestinians from the world.

It's like saying, "Don't say you have arthritis, say your joints hurt. And well, that happens to everyone, so let's just find a way to stop all our joints from hurting!" Then you work with people who fundamentally don't understand your pain and symptoms, oversimplifying your situation to the point of malicious universality. Sure, everyone's joints hurt, but my joints are hurting because my immune system is attacking them, not because of old age. You can't help my arthritis the same way you can wear a heat/cold patch to sooth your joints — there are other problems you're ignoring that all work together to cause me systematic pain and might cause bigger problems in the future if left untreated properly.

Similar symptoms don't mean similar causes and ignoring that is fundamentally ignoring the root issue and attempting to trivialize Palestinian's suffering. As soon as you take away the words to describe our situation, it doesn't sound so bad, does it?

Now, basically, the... weirdest part of the article is this excerpt:

People like him in Israel are very aware of how the left here is talking about them, and it’s not helping. “You can call me a colonizer or a settler,” he declared, “but I’m not going anywhere. And neither are the Palestinians.” When people chant, “Palestine will be free,” he said, “we Israelis hear, ‘without you.’ In the same way that a lot of Palestinians hear the ministers in Bibi’s government speak and think they want to do the same thing to them.” The problem as they both see it is that we are caught between two polar opposites. “Hamas believes in Greater Palestine,” Green said. “And on the other side we have people who believe in the idea of Greater Israel.” Indeed, that concept is in the charter of Netanyahu’s Likud Party. “Both sides have very problematic governing bodies,” he added. And the status quo of maintaining the occupation and managing the conflict has been exploded now.

Well, first off, Hamas is not the only one who believes in "Greater Palestine." Palestinians around the globe have been fighting for that since 1948. Second off, it's quite odd that you would center yourself in the wake of the ongoing slaughter of 10,000 people, with no end in sight. Right now, I would assume you'd be advocating for an end to the mass killings first and foremost, but you seem to be more worried about your right to stolen land.

Third, this completely erases the violence done to Palestinians the past 75+ years in favor for a "peace" that will only allow citizens of Israel comfort in their lives. Sure Palestinian citizens of Israel might have more comfortable lives, maybe (although I doubt it). But what about Gaza, which has been ravaged by Israel? What about the people in the Occupied Territories, whose economy depends on Israel, which controls it? What about the millions of refugees around the world who can't so much as see the place where they grew up because they've been exiled? The colonization of Palestine by Israel is not so old — there are people STILL ALIVE who participated in the massacres of Palestinians in 1948 and 1967 and walk around without facing any real consequences for that. My great-grandmother had seen both and she only passed away a couple of years ago. Where is the "peace" for her? Where is the "peace" for millions like her who still dream of going back to their childhood home?

This group AND the article tries to cloud your view into illustrating two opposing groups with equal power. They aren't. Palestinians, unfortunately, endure systematic oppression both within Gaza and throughout Palestine. Each and every time they try to resist peacefully, they've been shot, abducted, or imprisoned. The Great March of Return is one such example. BDS is also an example, yet that has constantly been outlawed by American governments. There have been a plethora of Palestinian artists, writers, and filmmakers who have been silenced or killed for advocating for a Free Palestine. Most recently, this included Heba Abu-Nada who was an award winning poet and writer who was martyred on October 20th after getting shelled by an Israeli missile. Ghassan Kanafani also was assassinated last century. The list goes on. Palestinians have no hope of "changing the system from within" because that internal change will always depend on the mercy of the Israelis that pretend to ally themselves with the Palestinians. Someone in Gaza cannot leave their refugee camp and go back to their ancestral home because no one in this group is advocating for that — and remember, the right of return is an essential part of the demands of the Palestinian people and we cannot ignore that for a forced "peace" that favors calmness over actual justice.

Now as we examine the group themselves, here is their mission statement/goal:

Standing Together is a progressive grassroots movement mobilizing Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel against the occupation and for peace, equality, and social justice. We know that the majority have far more in common than that which sets us apart and only a tiny minority benefits from the status quo. The future that we want-peace and independence for Israelis and Palestinians, full equality for everyone in this land, and true social, economic, and environmental justice — is possible. To achieve this future, we must stand together as a united front: Jewish and Palestinian, secular and religious, Mizrahi and Ashkenazi, rural and urban, and people of all genders and sexual orientations. As the largest Jewish-Arab grassroots movement in Israel, we are committed to creating an alternative to our existing reality and building the political strength to make this transformation possible.

Yet again, they are separating "Palestinian" and "Jewish," reinforcing this dichotomy that's so harmful. AND they're interchanging "Palestinian" and "Arab," which erases the diversity within Palestinian society. A group that makes the distinction between "Palestinian" and "Jewish" shows that they are not interested in the restitution of Palestinians but rather solidifying their own position within society by emphasizing a false dichotomy between "Palestinians" and "Jews" with no potential for overlap.

They mention "true justice" but "true justice" doesn't exist if there are no reparations towards the people who have been exiled and displaced, murdered, and tortured the past 75+ years. Justice is not an abstract concept — it is adhering to the demands of the people most impacted by systematic oppression, which is the Palestinians.

Looking at their leadership, there are only a couple of Palestinians with the vast majority of them being non-Palestinian. Sorry, but I'm wholly uninterested in "peace" and "equality" movements that are not made up of majority Palestinians. It's only common sense that you would expect such a movement to be led by Palestinians themselves — but this group seems to use Sally Abed as a token Palestinian who furthers their narrative of wanting "peace" in Israeli society. And even looking at their action items, you can see they make a point about emphasizing safety for the *Israeli* citizens above all else, stating that their far right government does nothing to serve the citizens of Israel. They claim it will also bring safety for Gazans, but how? You can advocate for a change in the government, yes, but if the people in Gaza are subject to getting their rights taken away based on the whims of whoever happens to be in power then no amount of "internal" activism in Israeli society will help them. They will always be at the mercy of the people who have a vested interest in erasing the people of Gaza and the West Bank so that they may take over their land.

Please remember, the civil rights movement of the 60s and the BLM Movement of this century were led by and FOR Black people of the United States because they were the ones making the demands for a change in their circumstances. Because at the end of the day, the people who are the most oppressed deserve the right to decide how their future appears and should not be dictated by the oppressor in any way.

This group tries to make a separation between the "Israeli people" and the "Israeli government." Right away, I have to laugh. They act as if the colonization of Palestine is too old for anyone to remember its origins — no. I had family living in Palestine as recently as '67. Maybe *this* generation didn't choose to settle in Palestine, but the previous generation did. And the generations before that. Before 1948, Israel didn't even exist. Hell, before a couple hundred years ago, BORDERS didn't exist. Not to mention, mandatory conscription means that most civilians will have been directly part of the suppressing forces, making them liable for the material effects of colonization. Why are people so resistant to the idea of undoing colonialism and its effects? I cannot think of any other reason than because they have a vested interest in keeping those borders up, in emphasizing nationality because they're one of the groups of people that is benefited from the establishment of a "Jewish State."

So in that, unless you call for an end to the idea of the "Jewish State" in Palestine, then I cannot think of you as a sincere advocate for Palestinian rights — this group especially plays at normalization of a muted version of the status quo rather than actual justice and reparations. The "Israeli advocates" within this group will benefit first and foremost in their own activism — therefore it's hard for me to view them in a positive light.

All activism for Palestinians should center around giving Palestinians reparations, as well as giving reparations to all indigenous victims of colonization. I think this group only tries to muddy the waters to make people forget what they're fighting for. I honestly do not understand why liberation scares you, if it means that no nation-state will have complete and total power over you and your family.

"Free Palestine" is an anti-colonial movement. Such a thing is possible — but you have to try to make it possible. Those against the unending liberation of all people are one of those who have the most to benefit from the continuation of colonization.

Right now, your main concern should be the people of Gaza and the people of the West Bank, and ensuring their safety and longevity in the face on continued erasure. "Peace" is all well and good but who exactly gets to define that? Who gets to benefit most from it? Unless you can unequivocally answer "ALL Palestinians," then you're not an ally — you're only interested in helping yourselves.

Remember — the fact that we even had to fight for our rights is itself an injustice. At the very least, ask the people who are most affected what they want before you listen to Israelis who have a vested interest in keeping the state of Israel alive.

[jaune-submissive-and-breedable]

How about some white knight

Weiss inherited her family company and needs a good secretary. Her old classmate Jaune is looking for a job so why not hire him. On his first day Weiss gives him his new uniform, a speedo and collar and nothing else. At first it was great but she might have to hire another secretary to actually get some work done considering how much time she waists toying with the blonde boy.

Hope you like it, and good luck with the new blog.

Being the secretary to Weiss Schnee wa sa task not many were qualified or able to perform. While tending to the company need, you also had to cater to her own well. Something her current one, Jaune arc, learned on during his duration.

Day 1:

Jaune stared at himself in the mirror withing Weiss's office, confusion and uncertainty evident on his face.

"Umm, Weiss, are you sure this is a standard issue SDC uniform?" He questioned

The uniform in question, a light blue speedo that tightly squeezed his groin, causing an ever-present bulge on the front, and a simple collar with a white bow tie.

The woman in question stiffled a snicker before composing herself. "Of course it is, jaune. All secretaries that came before you wore this outfit without any complants"

And obvious lie.

"But if you feel it's inappropriate..."

Jaune shook his head, putting the matter to rest. "No, it's fine. Just kinda tight is all."

He looked in the mirror once more, "Does this speedo make my butt look big?"

Weiss wiped her mouth of the stream of saliva that leaked from her mouth as she stared at the blonde.

"Yes, Perfectly so"

DAY 2:

"Jaune, could you come here, please?"

"What do you need Ms. Schnee?" He asked as he entered the office, a noticeable blush covering his face.

Weiss pointed to a stack of papers on the floor. "Do you mind picking those up for me. As you can see *motioning to the mess of papers on her desk* I'm a bit busy over here"

Jaune, seeing nothing wrong happily agreed, bending over to pick up the conveniently dropped behind the door, papers. Giving the heiress a clear view of his toned ass, the speedo wedging itself between his cheeks. A perversely satisfied grin spread across her face as he stood.

"Thank you, Jaune, that will be all for now" She said, discretly wiping away blood that trinkled from her nose.

DAY 5:

Weiss was on a video call with some conglomerates about a potential business opportunity in regards to the untapped dusk deposit on Menagerie. All the while, her face was red with sweat pouring down it.

"Are you alright, Ms. Schnee?" One asked

Weiss simply nodded, passing it off as the air conditioner being on the fritz. When in truth, Jaune was on his knees with his head locked in her groin by her creamy white thighs as he was ordered to eat Weiss out during her business calls. His long, flat tongue hitting just the right spots.

"God's you eat cunt so fucking good" she muttered, keeping sure to not alert the conglomerates to her secret activity. Her delicate hands grabbed hold of his blonde, pushing him into her core further.

"Keep eating my cunt like this and I'll give you a tasty reward~" She moaned

"Excuse me, Ms. Schnee?"

"I said this opportunity would be hard to ignore" She replied quickly, covering her words descretly.

" Of course it is! Those ani...."

Weiss zoned out of what they were saying as her climax was approaching fast. She squeezed her thighs tighter around Jaune's head, locking him in place as she came. Her clear lady like juices splatter against his face like a tsunami.

"Oh fuck.....good boy" she cooed, stroking his he like a dog. Turning back to the meeting like nothing happened. " Now as you were saying"

DAY 10:

"AAAAHHH WEEISSSS!!!" Jaune screamed, his hand gently gripping her snow white locks as she bobbed her head up and down his cock.

What started this was when he brought i her a cup of coffee after a stressful meeting. He offered her cream, but she wasn't interested in the kinda from a cow. Instead, pinning him against a wall as she inhaled his cock like her life depended on it, making him scream and moan in pleasure.

"WEISS! SLOW DOWN....I'M GONNA......" he warned.

The heiress ripped herself of his length, using one hand to stroke him to completion and the other holding her coffee under his tip.

"Do it." She commanded, "CUM for me.....Right now"

Jaune grunted on last time before letting loose.a torrent of pearl white seed. The volume of his ejaculated filling her mug, coating her hand, and staining the floor.

Once he shown signs of stopping, Weiss raise her cum covered coffee to her lips taking a lon yet dainty sip. Humming approvingly, as she licked her lips

"Hmm, good consistency, above average duration, but the taste could be improved on~"

Day 15:

"Is Jaune working overtime again?"

"Fraid so."

"Drat, I was hoping to invite him out for a drink. Geez, Ms. Schnee must be working him like a dog."

_______________________________________

"OH FUCK!!" Weiss cried as she felt jaune's warm life giving fluid fill her narrow crevice for the 4th time.

The two of them have been going at it since lunch hours, yet shown no clear signs of fatigue or the desire to stop. At least for Weiss, her secretary in only name was a different story. Jaune was panting like a dog, sweat pouring down his body, and his cock sore and sensitive from continuous use.

"Weiss, please.....let me rest......i......I can't keep going...:

She glared at him and yanked the collar she made him wear harshly, earn a yelp from the blonde.

"SILENCE! GOOD BOYS DO SPEAK TIL SPOKEN TO"

Day 20:

"And that concludes this interview, thank you for come, Ms. Smith" Weiss smiled at her new secretary.

The woman, a shy and nervous rabbit faunus, returned her smile and shook her hand.

" I want to thank you for this opportunity Ms. Schnee. But I do have a bit of a question"

Weiss raised an eyebrow

"What happened to the last secretary?"

Weiss smiled once more, rubbing the growing bump in her stomach.

"Let's just say he got promoted to personal assistant

-------------------------------------------------------

Sorry it took so long. Also thanks for the support

[halflife2dotnet]

please help a disabled transfag prepare for the worst.

i accidentally deleted the entire recent post from my blog so i guess its tine 4 a new one.

i would love to give up on doing this and live my life, preserve my sanity, but i literally don't have a choice. i do not live in a place with accessible public transport. it's either continue begging for people to pay attention and help me, or have nothing to fall back on when the inevitable happens.

i literally just want to get a car and know how to drive it before everything falls apart. so that i can escape when it does. i've been trying to raise AT LEAST 2.5k for this for 2 months at this point

please rb if you can't send anything.

more below

i don't even want to share this info for my own safety but i'm at a loss for what to do. i feel like i only have the power to beg.

i'm currently living with my abusive family, whom i have almost no autonomy from. i really, truly do fucking hate it here, but this is my only support net and it's falling apart. my mother likely has dementia and cancer and her heart is failing. my father, sole bread winner of the house, is losing the ability to do his job as his health fails, and i know what the heartbreak of losing his wife will do to him.

earlier this year i had an episode of seizures that i have never felt the same since. since then i realized that i have likely had frontal lobe epilepsy for the past 4+ years, which i have yet to find out. thanks to the people on this website spreading my post and donating what they could, $1, $3, $15, some as much as $500, we successfully raised over 5k so that i could afford to see a neurologist while uninsured (usa baby)

in the meantime i gone on a medication that barely helped at first, but it has helped greatly after raising the dose.

i've saved what i can for the medical help i've been waiting months for, and i can *not* use any of it to put towards getting a car.

hence why i have to try and catch enough attention to raise nearly 5k, all over again. around 2k for the car itself, and the rest for any mechanical work & legal shit.

i don't know what else to say, and i have other things to do... thank you if you read all this. please please spread this so that anyone who can help sees it. i don't know what else i can do

[etz-ashashiyot]

About Me/FAQs

You can call me Avital. I am a non-binary traditional egalitarian Jew living in the US. Any pronouns except they/them are fine. (!היא/את בעברית, בבקשה. תודה)

I really appreciate human interaction. That being the case, if you follow me and I don't already follow you, please send me a DM with the following:

What you want me to call you (internet name, username, nickname, whatever)

What brought you here and made you want to follow me

Something random about you that you feel comfortable sharing (pet pics are always welcome too <3)

I had a whole lot of other rules on my previous blog to weed out the faint of heart, but I genuinely don't know how well that worked, so instead I will simply put roughly the same information below as resources and recommended reading. Fair warning: I will operate from a baseline assumption that you've done the reading and therefore will not be explaining anything in them.

I also had a listing of my firm opinions and other miscellaneous information. That got long and unwieldy, but a lot of people seemed to appreciate it, so I will post roughly the same list under the cut.

The current username refers to my current symbol of a tree of lanterns in the starlight. This is related to my desire to create self-symbolism, old school style (like I really want to create a family crest, a flag, a seal, and other heraldic nonsense. Why? Because it delights me, of course.)

This page is under construction and subject to change at any time.

B'vracha,

Avital

Recommend Reading

For followers who are Christian, were Christian, are non-Jews who grew up in a Christian culture and/or have only learned about Judaism through Christianity, these links are very helpful in unpacking some of the antisemitism you were taught:

Better Parables (specifically the article about Pharisees, but read the rest of the site too, it's great)

Antisemitic readings of the Temple table-flipping incident in the New Testament

The current Israel-Hamas war and just המצב discourse in general require a lot of background knowledge to discuss intelligently, and not just propaganda. There is a LOT of antisemitism in the public around this topic and it is having serious real-world consequences for Jews all over the world. The mis- and disinformation is causing problems for everyone involved. Islamophobia in the West has increased as well. If you're going to engage in this discussion, I am respectfully but forcefully asking you to read the following sources. They are useful regardless of where you fall on that political scale.

There Is No Magic Peace Fairy

Ways to help: [1], [2], [3]

Muslim organizations advocating for peace, education, positive interfaith relations, and fighting antisemitism

This is perhaps my best summary of my own feelings on the whole thing

Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that

Please learn what Kahanism is, because it actually is what people think Zionism is. Zionism is simply a desire for Jewish self-determination in our ancestral homeland of eretz Yisrael. Kahanism is a type of racism that cloaks itself in Zionism but is fundamentally bigoted.

A non-exhaustive list of antisemitic incidents, attacks, and pogroms during [OP's] lifetime

An exceptionally long and thorough explanation of antisemitism and antisemitic violence throughout history

Why The Most Educated People in America Fall for Antisemitic Lies by Dara Horn (tumblr link in case the article link gets broken)

This explanation of the atrocities endured by Soviet Jews and how the legacy of Soviet antisemitism undergirds western "antizionism-not-antisemitism." If you call yourself an anti-Zionist, this is required reading.

An excellent overview of the basics

This is nowhere near complete information, but it's an important start. I will very likely continue to add resources as they become available and would love to create a primer on this topic more generally.

If you don't believe that October 7th happened or wasn't that bad, or really any atrocity denial please read this article from a reporter who was shown the actual footage, as well as this article documenting its effects on him.

If you are still in denial about the pattern of gender based violence, sexualized torture, and widespread rape as a war tactic committed by Hamas on 10/7, you are legally required to read this article.

About the blog:

I’m going to try my best to keep this blog to primarily Judaism, comparative religion and theology, with the occasional side sprinkling of queer & trans stuff, BUT it is absolutely a personal blog at the end of the day.

I talked about Israel and המצב stuff a lot on my previous blog and will likely continue a bit over here too. I welcome a broad swath of opinions, so long as they objectively treat all parties involved as human and deserving of safety, stability, freedom, dignity, and peace. That is apparently a large ask these days, and a not-small part of why I keep talking about this issue. Please be part of the voices that give me hope for the future, okay?

Minors can follow and interact but please keep in mind that I’m probably closer to your parents' age than yours if you do want to interact with me directly.

Interactions:

Rude asks will be deleted. Harassing blogs will be blocked and probably reported.

I consider anything even remotely in the vicinity of trying to proselytize to me to be “harassing,” or at a minimum, rude. Just FYI.

Otherwise, nice interactions are welcomed.

Banter is encouraged; trolling will be ignored

If you are a goy and want to argue with me about Jewish theology, you have to match my perfect score on this popquiz, no cheating by looking things up during the quiz. I learned Judaism as an adult mostly through self-study so you have no excuse. If you're invested enough to argue with me you're invested enough to do the reading homework. (To clarify: I'm happy to explain Jewish stuff to anyone who is sincerely asking or just have a friendly comparative theology discussion or whatever. But I have zero patience for those who want to argue with me about basic shit claiming they know more than me, especially if what they're claiming they "know" is not only wrong but antisemitic and wrong.)

If I don't respond to your interaction, there's a strong chance that I (a) have no idea what to say and am thinking about it, (2) totally meant to respond and just forgot after the notif disappeared, and/or (3) got incredibly busy. It's not personal! Please don't be shy about following up with me if you like. I promise that if we have a problem that is fixable, you'll know. If we have a problem that is not fixable, you'll be blocked.

I am currently learning Ivrit and am delighted to have interactions in Hebrew. Please feel free to message me, reply to posts or reblog, submit asks, etc. in Hebrew and I will do my best to read and respond to it. (Responses will be slower, but not for lack of appreciation of your thoughts!)

Anything else, just ask.

Hard stances:

You're not going to change my mind on these things; I've looked at the evidence, my personal experiences, and thought about them long and hard, and I am not going to be swayed by an internet rando. I can (often, but not always) co-exist just fine with people who I disagree with, but if seeing my posts about this is going to upset you, just do us both a favor and block me now please.

I am deeply distressed at how many people are choosing to live in a "post-factual society" where the truth is based on truthiness vibes and the politics are based on the quippiest of slogans. I don't care who's doing it, misinfo, disinfo, propaganda, atrocity denial, and gaslighting are BAD. There is no nuance here; these are bad things. They are bad if they go against your cause and they are bad if they "support" your cause. No cause is better than the truth.

If we cannot have a discussion where we are operating from the same baseline reality of verifiable facts, we cannot have a productive conversation and I will not engage with you. We can agree or disagree on a lot and that is fine, but facts matter.

If you cannot be reasoned with in accepting verifiable facts as reality, you need help. I'm serious. That is cult behavior. Get off tumblr and get help.

I don't know how to tell you that you should care about other people. If you don't see the inherent worth in other human beings' lives, I can't fix that. Go take that struggle to G-d and heal your soul.

I support the right of the Jewish people to self-determination in our ancestral homeland of Israel, the same way that I support other indigenous groups' right to self-determination in their ancestral homelands. If you don't, I'm going to need you to examine why Jews should be singled out of every other group to be denied this right or denied support in seeking it. That said, I definitely do not agree with many of the decisions made by the Israeli government, especially (but far from exclusively) regarding their treatment of Palestinians. I think both Jews and Palestinians deserve to live in peace, safety, freedom, dignity, and self-determination for both. No one is going anywhere; any real solution must recognize that. I tend to favor this proposal by A Land for All as an ideal (and given the grassroots nature of this idea, I think it could work pragmatically too, if the political will exists on both sides.)

I reject the Zionist/anti-Zionist dichotomy altogether for a number of reasons: 1) It impedes conversation because too many people agree but will never know it because they refuse to talk about what they actually mean by those labels and instead make assumptions about the other group. 2) It inherently puts the validity of an existing state up for debate rather than looking at real solutions for the future. You cannot unmake the state of Israel without widespread atrocities, but you can figure out options for everyone to live together in peace and heal from the collective trauma. 3) It also makes it way too easy to play Good Jew/Bad Jew and "Zionist" has basically become the slur de jour for "Jew." It sucks that people took a Jewish word for an important Jewish concept and made it synonymous with "bloodthirsty racist," but personally I don't think arguing over that at this exact juncture in time is helpful.

Bottom line: I'm a humanitarian and a pragmatist, and I care about all the people who call that part of the world home.

Update: for real, if you have trouble seeing Israelis and Palestinians both as human and deserving of safety, dignity, freedom, and inherent worth as living human beings, I don't want to know you. I don't want to talk to you. Go fix yourself.

🌻 I stand with Ukraine 🇺🇦

Free Iran from the Islamic Republic // Women Life Freedom

Abortion is a human right and should be safe, legal, available on demand, and shameless. It's a necessary medical procedure and it's completely barbaric that we're still talking about it as anything else.

Birth control, abortion, and no-fault divorce are actively positive parts of society and building healthy families.

Transition care is healthcare and also a human right. Allowing people to transition prevents self-harm and suicide, and has an extremely high efficacy rate with an exceptionally low level of risk or regret. We now have well over a century of data on this.

That said, detransitioners who are still supportive of trans people/aren't transphobic are more than welcome here, as any exploratory process deserves the right to say, "Interesting! But nope!"

Transunity, ace/aro positivity, and just inclusionism in general, 100%. Fuck off with anything else.

Queer might be a slur in the mouths of some people, but my identity isn't. Don't reblog my posts if you're going to tag it with "q slur" or "q word" or censored in some way. I'm not Gay as in "I prioritize cis men over the entire rest of the community" but Queer as in "my personal labels are none of your business but my political stance on queer liberation sure as fuck will be."

If you don't vaccinate yourself and your kids for any reason other than medical necessity, and especially if you promote anti-vaxxer views and the associated pseudoscience, you are actively harming the most vulnerable members of society for entirely selfish reasons and that makes you a bad person. I hope your kids bypass you to get vaccinated.

Wear a mask 😷

[missmonsters2]

—KAIROSCLEROSIS | TEN (FINAL)

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Everything comes to settle in the aftermath. You're healing and Wednesday takes the time to consider what she's experiencing until she picks it apart in a way she can tolerate it. You are hers, though. That is for certain.

Warnings: softsoftsoftsoft. so soft. Wednesday is soft. cuddling. happy ending. healing. bantering. did i say soft? crying it's so soft. satisfying aftermath. the nickname bet comes to an end. soft in case you were unaware.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist, but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: book 1 has come to an end! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this series <3 Sequel is on it's way along with some oneshots! series masterlist has been re-edited with info.

Part Nine

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kairosclerosis: Noun. The moment you realize that you're currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart, and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it's little more than an aftertaste.

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Wednesday sits beside your hospital bed, quietly reading Goody's spellbook. The only noise is the sound of your quiet breathing and the steady beeping from the machine that monitors your heart rate. 

The spellbook is coming in handy already. Wednesday has just discovered a better remedial salve—one that should actually speed up the healing process. Once Enid arrives, Wednesday would be free to go and gather the ingredients she needed. She would need some honey from Eugene's bees, and she recalled a plant in the greenhouse with the pulp she needed.

A particularly deep breath draws Wednesday's attention from her book. Her head tilts slightly over as she peers at you. Your eyes are closed, unaware of anything as you slept on. You had to be put on your stomach so that your wings could rest without anything touching them. 

The reopened wounds had to be stitched back together and then bandaged, which the doctor noted would have to be for two weeks and frequently changed. Wednesday was merely waiting for you to be discharged, and she could take your healing into her own hands. The nurse earlier had received a scathing glare when she was not delicate in changing your bandages yesterday, causing your brows to furrow as you slept on. 

Morons, Wednesday vehemently decided then. They couldn't be trusted with you. 

"You should wake up soon," Wednesday says, even though you never reply. She doesn't even know if you're listening. "It's much too sunny without you."

"Wednesday," Enid sighs as she walks into the room, a new bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Why are you up again? You're supposed to be resting too. You got stabbed in the arm!"

"This is hardly anything," Wednesday raises her brow as she closes the spellbook and puts it back into her bag. "It honestly hurts more when I punch Pugsley."

“You mean when Pugsley punches you?”

“No.”

"Still," Enid frowns, looking over her roommate. Despite only having been two days since the ordeal, Wednesday threatened the hospital staff to discharge her mere hours after she got cleaned and fixed up. 

You could barely tell that Wednesday was injured by the way she continued wearing long sleeves, tidy braids, and lack of reaction. The only visible sign was the bandage she had to wear over her temple. 

"Fae will be upset if you refuse to rest and heal when she wakes up." Enid looks over to you, biting her bottom lip. A part of her wants to cry at how banged up you looked. She knew—could smell how much blood there was that night. But now you really looked broken with the machines hooked up to you and the red-stained bandages wrapped over your wings. 

It was worse than when Eugene was in the hospital last year. 

Wednesday looks at you once more as she prepares to leave. Your back rises and falls with each steady breath. "Then I suppose she'll have to wake up if she wants me to even consider listening to her grievances against me."

Walking out the door, Wednesday doesn't spare you another glance as she walks down the corridors. The nurses give her a wide berth, the lights flickering as she walks. 

A room comes up as she makes her way to the stairwell. There are two police guards posted outside. As she passes, she looks into the window and sees a lanky boy with messy hair and gauze bandages wrapped around his eyes and head. He's completely unaware. 

Wednesday smiles sinisterly. 

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"Miss Addams," Weems greets as she puts down her fancy fountain pen, gesturing for Wednesday to come closer.

Wednesday wordlessly takes a seat, her face impassive. 

They stare at each other for a long moment before Weems lets out a long, tired sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose before she looks at the macabre girl. 

"How are your classes going?" Weems asks.

Wednesday looks unimpressed as she lets out a dull "Fine."

"I hear you're taking class notes for Fae when she wakes up," Weems smiles then, and Wednesday narrows her eyes.

"Only because Enid's writing is so cacographic that it'd be more legible if it was put through a shredder."

Weem merely chuckles, rubbing her temples. "The reason I've called you to my office is that the investigation is finally coming to an end." Weems folds her hands together on the desk in front of her. "I know you've given the police your statement, but I thought I'd get the event recounted by you myself."

"I've assumed you read the report?" Wednesday asks, her chin jilted slightly. 

Weems nods.

"Then you already know what happened. I will not be changing my story," Wednesday raises her brow. "She was kidnapped. I found the clues to where she was and the fact that Henry was the culprit. When I arrived, she was unconscious and chained to the table, poisoned with a draeconium potion."

Wednesday watches as Weems's hands tighten slightly.

"Henry gave his unremarkable sob story before we engaged in combat. The noises woke her up, and she freed herself before she defended us against Henry."

"I noticed you weren't very descriptive in this area in your report," Weems points out.

"Everything she did was something only a high lord's daughter or a night faerie would be able to do, so I will keep it to myself. The police are welcome to come and try to get an answer out of me," Wednesday's eyes glint as she gives a sharp smile, "but at their own risk."

Weems gives a wry smile and waves her hand for Wednesday to continue.

"Henry's desperation to attack us and gain the upper hand led him to strain his eyes and lose consciousness. At that moment, Enid and everyone else barged in as they finally escaped his mindscape. We all made our way back here to get medical help."

Weems stares at Wednesday after the girl finishes recounting the story. "I see," the principal says evenly after a moment. "And that was what happened? Henry lost consciousness and you left him there immediately after?"

"Yes. I wasn't going to go out of my way to bring back a kidnapper and our attempted murderer," Wednesday shrugs. 

"He could have died," Weems emphasizes pointedly. "Which would've been another death here at Nevermore two years in a row."

"His failure to kill us both is his own fault. He should deal with the consequences of it himself. The authorities were able to get them, were they not? I hear he's resting in his own guarded room." There was a telling smirk on Wednesday's face.

"Yes," Weems's voice is hard. "Though I'm sure you know the guards are useless, considering he no longer has eyes and can't use his gift anymore."

"I heard rumors around the hospital," Wednesday's face was indifferent again. 

"Wednesday," Weems sighs. "This was a disaster. Henry Morrison Sr wants to further investigate the disappearance of his son's eyes. He's convinced that they were surgically removed and considering there was only you in this situation that was conscious, he wants to press charges against you."

"Is he an absolute moron?" Wednesday raises her brow. "Is he not aware of what his son attempted to do?"

"Yes, well—"

"I encourage him to try to press charges against me with the lack of evidence he has. This case would be so laughable, I wouldn't even need to hire legal help with how guaranteed my victory is."

"Yes," Weems cuts in before Wednesday can say anything else. "And I told him as such."

Wednesday sharply looks at the principal, her eyes full of suspicion. She has no doubts that Weems knew she had gouged out Henry's eyes. After all, she had timed it perfectly for the authorities to arrive on time before he could die. 

The optic nerve was completely severed to ensure his psychic abilities could never manifest again, and then she fed his eyeballs to the fish in the river as she rowed her way back. 

"I have informed Mr. Morrison Sr that back in 1956, there was a similar incident where a psychic had over-exerted himself, resulting in his eyes bursting and it seemed that may be the case here." Weems's eyes seem to search for something in Wednesday, but it doesn't seem like she's looking for the truth. "There's no proof indicating otherwise. With that, Henry Jr is expelled, obviously."

"Will he be going to jail like Tyler?" Wednesday's quick to ask.

"Well, considering only one student attacked—no, I'm not counting you as you foolishly went after Fae alone—it's not enough to warrant having the academy file charges—"

"Of course," Wednesday hisses disdainfully. "We wouldn't want to potentially harm the school's impeccable reputation—"

"—That being said," Weems cut in forcefully, giving Wednesday a stern look. "As Fae's guardian, I am personally filing charges. I'm quite confident Morrison Sr will want to accept the plea bargain when we meet next week, lest he wants a long, grueling court battle where I will drag his family name through the mud."

Wednesday went quiet. She doesn't apologize, but there's a mild look of respect in Wednesday’s eyes. Her eyes flicker down and then back up. "Why did you want me to recount the report if the investigation has obviously concluded?"

Weems gathers the paper on her desk, shuffling them to line up. "I merely wanted to hear the events in your own words, as the police will still want Fae's matching statement when she awakens."

Wednesday stares on.

"I'm dismissing you for the day," Weems says as she puts the papers back on her desk. "I'm rather tied up with things I cannot put off, and I have a meeting in half an hour. There's a car waiting for you at the gates."

"Why—" Wednesday starts to ask, but she can feel her heart thudding against her ribcage almost painfully, and she relishes in it. 

"I have let the hospital staff know you'll be arriving to check her out on my authorization. I have already handled her discharge papers over the phone earlier. Listen to me for once and arrive before the police do," Weems says, dismissing Wednesday.

Wednesday gets up and walks out of the office briskly. She begins to walk towards the gates outside but stops. Turning towards her room, Wednesday first goes there and picks up the fuzzy black blanket, folding it neatly together, then draping it over her arm. She grabs a single grape lollipop from Enid's desk before she takes the shortest way to the front gates. 

The ride feels tediously long, and Wednesday snaps at the driver to drive faster. It barely comes to a stop before Wednesday gets out and walks through the hospital doors. She doesn't make herself known to the front desk receptionists and takes the stairwell up and down the memorized pathway to room 316. 

The door is already open, but there's no noise inside. There's a moment when Wednesday's heart drops at the lack of noise. Wednesday's used to feeling miserable; it brings her comfort and joy now even to feel so. Occasionally, she'll feel a type of misery she could live without. 

Wednesday's never been aware of how un-miserable she wants to be as she approaches your door. 

The moment Wednesday steps in, her face doesn't change at all. If anything, she looks more dispassionate than usual. 

But she blinks. 

"Hi, Wednesday."

You've probably said it hundreds of times now. You've said it in the same tone over and over, but Wednesday suddenly feels like it's better than any music she's heard. It even sounds better than Pugsley's screams. 

You're smiling at her. You look tired with the bags and dark circles under your eyes, but you're alive, and you look so—Wednesday clenches her jaw—hers. You just look like hers. Franz Kafka said it best: you are the knife she turns inside herself. 

"You are so cruel, Wednesday. I wake up to make your world less sunny, and you bring me only one grape lollipop? Rest assured you'll be listening to the grievances I have against you."

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"We should get up soon, I need to apply your salve."

"Can't you just apply it like this? You did yesterday."

"Need I remind you how long it took and in the end, I had to get up to get to the places I couldn't reach."

"I think I can stretch my wings further today. You might not have to get up."

Wednesday sighs at your mutterings but leaves it be. You'll probably be more agreeable to moving in an hour anyway. 

Your body is a steady weight on top of hers, and you radiate a warmth that Wednesday thought would make her uncomfortable with how cool her body normally is. But it just makes everything tepid, and Wednesday finds she has a penchant for it. 

Your head rests against her chest, and you once commented how eerie it was that it was such a slow and quiet heartbeat, like she might as well be dead. The words were entirely flattering. 

Wednesday stares at the ceiling; she knows you're slowly falling asleep again. The past two weeks, you've been rather boring as all you can do is rest, but Wednesday finds it gives her a lot of time to think.

Her story has slowly been changing—it has been ever since she's grown closer to you. Between the mysteries and the morbidity of everything, her main character seems to be experiencing something else too. 

Wednesday thinks about what it means to her and comes to an utterly disgusting conclusion. 

She's happy. 

It's so repugnant that Wednesday constantly sneers at herself. She has no desire to expand on it, but she'll catch herself thinking of useless things. It dampens the happiness into something Wednesday's also unfamiliar with, and she can't decide which is worse. 

Wednesday's fingers trail over the arches of your wings, feeling the bone just underneath the soft feathers. Your wing twitches, but you say nothing. She continues her exploration of her wings, careful over the wounds that are still slowly healing but have been much better with the salve she created using Goody's spellbook. 

Your wings start trilling when Wednesday reaches further toward the middle. The skin is thinner there, but the feathers are lush and thick.

"Tickles," you mumble, your brows furrowing but not opening your eyes.

Wednesday glances down at you before she pulls the blanket up higher. "Come with me to my manor on the next Parents' Day."

You let out a big yawn, ruffling your feathers with a small shake. "Are you sure?" You mumble, still sleepy.

"My mother invited you."

You hum. "Sure, it'd be nice to see where you live. I think I'll want to have dinner with Larissa on Friday night, but I can leave after."

"We'll go together on Saturday morning."

"'kay," you mutter sleepily. 

There's a lull in silence again, and Wednesday feels discontentment in her chest. She wonders if you can hear it as you lay over her heart.

Wednesday clears her throat. "I have thought of a moniker for you."

She can feel you smiling.

"Oh?" You say amusedly, but you continue to lay there with your eyes closed. "Let's hear it."

"I believe we should just stick with Fae. We've already gone on too long, and there'd be no point in changing it now. Even if other faeries came to this school, there's still only one Fae. You'd merely confuse everyone with a new alias."

You let out a laugh then, shifting in Wednesday's arms. "It took you six months to come to that conclusion? Did you even come up with anything else?"

"Nothing that I would allow anyone else to call you," Wednesday huffs with annoyance, still cursing her father's passed-on nicknaming abilities.

"Why not?"

Silence again. Wednesday seems to be debating her discontentment before she says, "you are mine."

It's so simple, the words and the way she says it. 

You finally open your eyes as you lift your head to look up at Wednesday, who is resting against the headboard of your bed. She looks at you as if challenging you to say otherwise. 

"So, we're dating?" You tilt your head.

"Yes," Wednesday says with finality but also looks pained at the frivolous words and then sighs. "I never thought I'd be capable of wanting someone like this. I don't do feelings but all you make me do is feel things I have to research later."

"What kind of words?"

"Ridiculous words that I'm convinced are fake," Wednesday deadpans. "Regardless, I don't do feelings, but the idea of not experiencing more with you is unbearable."

"You're mine then?" you say, and it's more of a statement than a question.

"I am," Wednesday confirms.

You let out a soft laugh, and Wednesday tilts her head. 

"I never thought I'd ever have anyone to call mine," you say with a quiet smile. "I have very few things, Wednesday. I promise to treat you very well."

Wednesday nods once, her fingers tracing over a feather. You lift yourself higher with your hands, coming face to face with the grim girl, your nose brushing against hers. She was so serious looking.

"I discovered last year that I'm capable of evolving," Wednesday says quietly, her lips brushing against yours as her hands rest on the small of your back. "It's inequitable how much you've affected me."

You smile widely then, your lips parting in a huff of laughter. They're so ridiculous. Really, you're made for her, and she's made for you. "Wednesday, you've changed me since the day I laid my eyes on you." You kiss her, and the only noise in the room is the sound of your wings gently fluttering with excitement and Wednesday's stolen breath.

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"I believe I've come up with an acceptable arrangement of your epithet," Wednesday declares. "I'm owed your phone number."

You don't even look at her as you blindly reach for your phone on your desk, too comfortable to move from lying on top of Wednesday as you cuddle.

Wednesday watches you fiddle around on your device before her phone in her sweater pocket vibrates. 

She pulls her phone out and sees there's a text from you.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx: save this number 😗

"What is the meaning of this?" Wednesday asks, her voice low and dangerous, but you seem unbothered.

"You have my number now?"

"You had my phone number this entire time?" Wednesday feels something brewing inside of her, and it's mainly murder. 

You nod, still lying on top of her with your eyes closed. "Enid gave it to me after the bet was made."

"Why?" Wednesday demanded.

"Because I asked for it?"

"Then why make the ridiculous bet? Did you enjoy listening to such brainless suggestions?" 

"I told you," you smile. "I only make bets where I'll win either way. I wanted you to come up with something and win to give you the excuse of asking for my number. If you didn't, then Enid was already giving up and about to suggest we stick to Fae the next time it got brought up. I would've texted you after the bet was over."

Wednesday stares down at you, and she bores into the side of your head and plots silently.

"You are detestable, but I respect your strategy and deception. Although, regardless of the fact you are mine will not save you from my revenge."

You finally look up at Wednesday's unimpressed stare and smile at her. 

"Threatening me with a good time again, are you?"

END

EPILOGUE 1

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Hope you enjoyed the series! :)

I will be opening up a temporary taglist of 50 people to be notified when the oneshots and sequel is up! Comment or reblog on this post only to be added (pls don't send to my inbox bc i will miss it 💔) you can still always follow my library blog for notifs @missmonsters2-library

[seabirdtxt]

.Irminsul --amend -m 'Scaramouche'

Nahida has called in the book club to try and start discussions about the Creator's situation. Cyno actually kinda knows what he's talking about and Alhaitham is... mostly there for moral support... [< prev] [Blog Tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. Separate warning for my writing being all over the place on this one. all relationships are currently platonic!

WC. 2.6k

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There’s not much to do except wait for Alhaitham and Cyno to show up, unfortunately, so you have taken to chatting with Nahida and Aranyani about some of the games and toys that exist back on Earth. Aranyani seems to be interested in the mechanics of each, comparing them to existing games in Teyvat, while Nahida is more interested in trying them out for herself, someday.

Scaramouche doesn’t seem interested in the conversation, but he sits with the three of you anyway and watches the shadows of birds moving beyond the stained glass windows. 

You’d just been explaining the concept of the rubix cube and algorithms to the two gods when a sure knock is heard on the sanctuary doors. Scaramouche takes the opportunity to make his escape from the conversation, shuffling to the door and opening it for the newcomers. 

Cyno steps in, followed by Alhaitham, and the two of them hold each other at a polite distance as they walk down toward the dais, where the rest of you stand to greet them. 

“Hello, my friends!” Nahida exclaims, smiling brightly and clasping her hands together even as she and Aranyani take a gracious step back to allow you and the newcomers space. “Thank you so much for being here! We have a lot to discuss!” 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Cyno replies, nodding. He then turns to you with a little salute. “Your Grace, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

You put your hands up placatingly. “Please, there’s no need for formality…” you say, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as everyone looks at you. You clear your throat and gesture for the newcomers to continue. 

“We heard about the circumstances after your arrival in Teyvat,” Alhaitham states, stepping around Cyno, stopping at his side and crossing his arms. Straight to the point. “Do you remember the circumstances that led up to your descent? It might help point toward the root cause, and shed light on the ‘how’s and ‘why’s.” 

“Uh, good question,” you mutter, scratching your head about it for a second. “I was probably hanging out in my room or something, really. Playing, uh, games on my phone.”

You wonder if it’s too early to mention that said game was Genshin, AKA. controlling their world. You know they’re marginally self-aware, but the extent of which still escapes you. 

“Alright, and did you do anything different while you were playing on this ‘phone’? See anything strange?” Cyno picks up, pulling out a small notepad and quill. “Anything out of the ordinary, things that you don’t normally do or notice.”

“Well, my phone has been glitching a lot when I play games, lately,” you muse. “And I kept getting these buggy screens while I was in-game, but I figured that was just because my device was overheating or something. You know, they build them faulty on purpose so they can sell you a new one every few years? Apparently in France or something they made companies give people the right to repair their own phones, but we don’t have that where I live…” 

Cyno writes down most of the first half of what you say, but you seem to lose the crowd as you ramble. He looks up from his notepad to fix you with a level stare, though you can tell there's just a hint of confusion behind his expression.

“Can you say something that makes sense to people who live in this world?” Scaramouche interjects somewhere in the middle of your rambling, the first time he spoke since you guys first teleported to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “Or at least stay on topic, or something.” 

“Oh,” you reply, blinking. “Right.” 

Cyno nods to you again, though he keeps glancing at Scaramouche out of the corner of his eye. Alhaitham doesn’t bother with subtlety, fixing the Balladeer with a level, analytical stare. Cyno clears his throat after a few seconds of awkward silence, preparing his notepad once more. “So, you were saying you played on this ‘phone’ device, aside from the problem you noticed, was there anything else you did differently?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “I was playing the game like I normally would, doing commissions and stuff. No, wait, actually I did do something a bit weird.” 

This causes Cyno to perk up, and he leans forward onto the balls of his feet as he listens attentively. 

“Because the game was overheating my phone, my ping was super slow,” you explain. “So I was lagging pretty badly. I was doing one of the leylines in the jungle and I was spamming the interact button on the flower because I was getting impatient…”

“And then?”

“... And then I think another dialogue box popped up, but I didn’t notice what it said.” You finish, sighing. “After that, I just remember waking up beside a leyline thingy right here in Teyvat.” 

“Do you remember the exact location of the leyline?” Alhaitham asks, to which you shake your head.

“The Traveler and Wanderer found me not too long after that, and took me straight to the city. They probably have a better idea than I do, honestly. I didn’t really have a chance to figure out where I was, at the time…” 

“Do you recall any distinctive landmarks? Anything that stood out in an otherwise unremarkable location?” 

You shake your head again, trying to remember what you saw. “No, uh, I was a little bit distracted by discovering I was suddenly in- uh, in Teyvat, and-”

“So you were not already aware of your location when you descended?” Cyno clarifies. You nod quickly.

“I only figured out it was Sumeru when the Traveler started bringing me closer to the city,” you agree, wringing your hands nervously under the general’s gaze. “The few little houses and tents that started popping up, the architecture kinda gave it away…” 

“Were there any inconsistencies you noticed between your knowledge of Teyvat and the actual Teyvat when you arrived?” Cyno asks, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “Just to make sure you’re in the correct version.” 

“Well, funny you should mention that,” you figure it wouldn’t hurt to share this, given the result of it sitting right next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, Nahida is giving you a thumbs up. “I got hurt touching a leyline, not the same one as when I first got here, though! I got a little cut on my hand, because the leaves are a bit sharper than I was expecting…”

Alhaitham’s attention shifts from the Balladeer back to you. “What happened when you were injured?”

“I, uh, I accidentally made Irminsul recover some deleted information.” You simplify as best as you can. “And now there’s several things that were added back to the world that aren’t technically supposed to be here...”

“I’ve never heard of leylines doing that, before,” Cyno remarks. “Then again, it’s not every day the Creator descends to Teyvat.” 

“Have you tried going back to the same location to see if it yields reverse results?” Alhaitham wonders aloud, seeming amused by the strange predicament. 

“And what is that supposed to achieve?” Scaramouche interrupts again, snorting as he crosses his arms. “Besides going for a leisurely stroll through the jungle, I mean. Irminsul already recovered the missing data, and the location itself doesn’t matter, if you haven’t noticed already, since you can find a leyline just about anywhere.”

“It’s certainly an unprecedented behavior for leylines,” Cyno agrees. “But again, the Creator has never descended before-”

“We heard you the first time,” Scaramouche deadpans, earning him a smack upside the head courtesy of you. “Ow! Do you want to figure this stuff out or not?”

“Be nice,” you grumble, though you do feel slightly annoyed at the repetitive line of questioning. “He’s just ruling things out, right?” You turn to Cyno, nodding encouragingly for him to continue. 

“Ley lines are a complicated but fascinating subject to study,” Cyno states, crossing his arms and tucking his notebook under one elbow. “However, I’m afraid interdimensional travel is a little bit outside Spantamad’s realm of expertise.”

“Honestly, that’s fair,” you give a resigned sigh, but Scaramouche cuts you off.

“But how’s that supposed to help you?” He sneers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s like you want to be stuck here forever with no explanation for how you got here in the first place.”

“Can we just chalk it up to magic or something?” You ask sheepishly, a little embarrassed at having taken the time out of two of Sumeru’s most important figures’ days.

“I was looking forward to hearing about how you got into this predicament with your own two idiot hands, honestly.”

“What I want to know,” Alhaitham suddenly interjects, surprising everyone else with his initiative. “Is how the Creator and the Dendro archon are here, cozying up to a Fatui harbinger?” 

Four pairs of eyes blink at him in surprise, while Cyno nods in agreement.

“I think that’s the more pressing matter, here,” he agrees, and you can sense the tingle of static in the air as his previously-relaxed grip on his notebook starts to tighten. 

“Okay, see, that’s one of the things I was talking about!” You say quickly, the words leaving you in a rush in hopes of stemming the building tension in the sanctuary. “He was a harbinger before, but he’s all better now!”

“You say that like it was an illness,” Scaramouche snorts, to which you can only laugh.

“Yeah? As if you didn’t act a little bit sick in the hea-”

Nahida, who up until now has been doing an excellent job of pretending to mind her own business, decides to chime in before the general can come to his own conclusion.

“I apologize for not warning you two earlier, but I do have it on good authority—that authority being myself,” she hides her giggle with the palm of her hand, “that the Balladeer poses no harm to either of you, or the Creator!” 

“It’s also kinda my fault that he’s here, so I mean…” You trail off and give an apologetic shrug.

“How did you know I was a harbinger?” Scaramouche’s eyes narrow at Alhaitham and he crosses his arms as well, mirroring both the scribe and Cyno. “As far as I've been told, the memory of ‘me’ was erased from Irminsul.”

Cyno shakes his head. “No, there is recorded evidence of the Balladeer’s involvement with the sages’ god-creation plan,” he corrects, relaxing very slightly after Nahida’s reassurance but not dropping his guard completely. 

“I was present at the time of the Traveler’s investigation of the Joruri workshop, where they confronted the mechanical false god,” Alhaitham adds. “The person who fell from the machine indeed bears striking resemblance to you, but was confirmed to not be the Balladeer himself. However, Lord Kusanali’s own interjection confirms that you are indeed the Balladeer.” 

“He’s been reformed,” you say cheerfully, but your mind is running a mile a minute. Evidently Nahida and Aranyani are on the same page, because the two goddesses drift closer with curious looks on their faces. 

“So Irminsul has already started patching the holes in Teyvat’s history,” Nahida muses, hands on her hips. “It’s much faster than I anticipated, given the circumstances.”

“Not as surprising as you would think, little sprout,” Aranyani pats her head. “Irminsul is capable of very rapid computation, but the problem lies in resolving as many conflicting histories as possible. Two is faster, but three will cause some things to be shuffled around for a few days, still. The justification of the existence of multiple incarnations of the Balladeer may yet be subject to change.”

“So you’re saying that what we currently perceive as fact, is instead false?” Cyno asks, having retrieved his notebook once more. As the goddesses continue to muse on the subject, he writes down their theories and makes some notes of his own. 

“I’d say sorry for that workshop fight,” Scaramouche says, addressing Alhaitham with a smug grin. “But I honestly didn’t even remember you being there. I guess you just weren’t that noteworthy to me at the time. No hard feelings, right?” 

Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to grace him with a look, much to Scaramouche’s annoyance. Instead, the scribe quietly listens in on the Irminsul discussion.

Meanwhile, you try to remember what team you had when you took on the Archon quest fight. It’s been a while since then, and you’re not sure if you’re thinking of the right fight. Maybe you used Alhaitham in one of your weeklies? Speaking of which, do those boss fights exist in the world of Teyvat, or is that just for you as a player of the game? If they exist, how do the characters feel having to go beat up the same people on a weekly basis? What about the characters who are weekly bosses, like Wanderer, Childe, and Ei?

Thinking about it is starting to give you a headache. 

You decide to tune back in as Nahida and Aranyani finish bouncing ideas between themselves, with Cyno furiously scribbling annotations in the margins of his notepad. What was it they were talking about again? You get the sense that maybe you should've paid a bit more attention. 

“- that’s the case, then we should contact Inazuma and see if there is a new history that came up.” Cyno offers, to which Nahida shakes her head.

“If we ask directly, the answer we will get is the same.” She explains, wringing her tiny hands. “To them, this knowledge will have always existed. They will perceive it as an unchanged fact, in the same way you and the Scribe believe the circumstances of the Balladeer to be a fact. The better people to ask would be the ones involved in the anomaly.” 

“Alright, and how do we find them?”

“See, that’s the funny part…” You begin, only to be interrupted by a sudden swirling pressure in the chamber.

It’s strange to see the teleportation from an outside perspective. You watch as Wanderer shimmers into existence, adjusting his hat. The metal charms on the ends of it chime as they settle. He looks up, catching sight of you first and raises a hand to wave, only to stop short when he sees the other guests.

“... Looks like I’m late to the party,” he remarks, drifting over to Nahida’s side. “Wanna catch me up to speed? Not that I care, but I might as well get the full picture so I can correct you where you're wrong.”

“I asked for the General and the Scribe to come visit so that we could get a better grasp on the Creator’s situation!” Nahida explains, smiling brightly at him. 

“Great, and how did that go?”

Everybody chooses to look in different directions, unable to look Wanderer in the eye. You hear him heave an annoyed, but resigned, sigh. 

“We might’ve gotten somewhere if Buer hadn’t sidetracked,” Scaramouche adds helpfully. 

“And you might’ve gotten the groceries like you guys said you would, too, but here we are,” Wanderer crosses his arms, pinning you and Scaramouche with a pointed look. 

You wince and turn around, subtly leaning over to Scara, whispering: “I actually forgot about that…”

“Me too…” he replies, not quite as quietly as you. You both startle as hands come down on both of your shoulders, Wanderer’s grinning face appearing between the two of you. 

“Isn’t this just a splendid opportunity for you two to go find the traveler and restock our pantry, while Buer and I go over the details of what you clowns didn’t explain right?” 

Scaramouche wastes no time wresting his shoulder out of Wanderer’s grasp with a noise of disgust. “Who do you think you are to order me around, teacher’s pet? I’ll go when I feel like it.” He sneers, stalking off toward the doors of the sanctuary.

You offer a light chuckle and a wry grin of apology to the others, who watch unimpressed at Scaramouche’s display, while Wanderer dismisses you with a shooing motion.

Right. Time to get those supplies. 

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Stay Away from the Altar - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader; Seresin Daughter!OC (Rose) / Bradshaw Son!OC (Nick)

Word Count: 4.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Warnings: (Over)protective Dad!Hangman; Angst; Fighting; Rebellious Teenagers; Tense Father-Daughter Relationship; Teenagers Dating; Crying; References to Threats; References to Previous or Hypothetical Pregnancy Scares

Summary: Jake isn't ready to accept that his daughter is growing up. And he's definitely not ready to accept that his daughter seems to have fallen for Rooster's spawn.

A.N. You could read this as a sequel to my Left at the Altar series, since I used the name that I gave Hangman and Reader's daughter in that fic for this fic. But it's not 1000% necessary to read the series to understand this story.

And I meant to post this as part of Father’s Day, but let’s just ignore the fact that it’s a day late.

Master List

Admiral Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a very accomplished man. He was the youngest man to reach the admiralty since Tom “Iceman” Kazansky and was currently the Air Boss of NAS Miramar. He had his beautiful wife and absolute love of his life still by his side with their twenty-year marriage anniversary just around the corner. And three beautiful children to brag about to the world.

Everything was going near perfectly in Jake Seresin’s life. And then his eldest daughter Rose suddenly snapped from his little princess and into a defiant teenager about to flee to a college on the other side of the country. And sure, Rose had mentioned going across the country for college before, but Jake was more than a little suspicious.

Why, you may ask? Because Washington DC was awfully close to Annapolis, Maryland. The Naval Academy. The Naval Academy that one little fucker was attending next year.

Nicholas Peter Bradshaw.

Rooster’s spawn was messing with Rose’s head and Jake was not going to stand for it.

Jake didn’t always have suspicions about Nick. He was a decently good kid. For Rooster’s kid, anyways. He was somewhat smart—not as smart as Rose, but he wasn’t dumb as rocks—and he didn’t cause too much trouble. And because of the handful of months between Nick and Rose, they were practically raised side-by-side, which was great until they hit their teenage years.

Because then Nick started to linger.

Spending so much time around Rose. Going to all of her games and all of her events, even if he had his own to worry about. Coming over to ‘study’ and to do ‘homework’ together frequently. Offering to give Rose and her siblings rides to school events or the beach. Always offering to help her and Jake’s wife too with anything to try and impress them.

Yeah, Jake had seen that game played before. He had played it himself back in the day. Successfully. Very successfully. He had the wedding ring, three full wedding albums, three kids, and nineteen and a half years of marriage to prove it. He knew all of the steps and all of the tricks to successfully convince a woman outside of his league to fall in love with him.

And, so, when Nick offered to take Rose for a ‘scenic’ drive in the Bronco, Jake put his foot down.

“What do you mean I can’t go?” Rose complained, glaring up at her dad. “It’s summer!”

“Exactly, so why don’t you go spend some time with your siblings? Or your other friends? Before you go all the way to the East Coast!”

“My other friends that just happen to be girls?” Rose emphasized, a scowl twinging at her lips.

“Yes,” Jake replied, causing Rose’s scowl to deepen.

“Why are you being so weird? Nick has driven me around all over the place!”

“You’re not going for a ride in that stupid bucket of bolts with him, Rose. And that’s final.”

“What is going on now?” Jake’s wife called tiredly, walking into the room.

“Dad won’t let me go for a drive with Nick,” Rose quickly explained, walking over to her mom.

“In the Bronco,” Jake emphasized, causing his wife to sigh.

Rubbing her face tiredly, Jake’s wife picked her head up and glanced between her eldest daughter and her husband. She knew exactly what Jake was concerned about, particularly with his emphasis on the Bronco. Taking a moment to come to a decision, Jake’s wife turned to Rose.

“You can go out with Nick in the Bronco, but be back by dark, okay?”

“But—” Jake started to protest.

“—Thanks, Mom!”

Rose hurried up to her room to change and to probably text Nick to come and pick her up while Jake stared at his wife with clear betrayal. In response, his wife shot him a knowing look and folded her arms over her chest.

“Jake, you’re overreacting,” his wife stated, causing Jake to gape at her.

“Do you want our daughter running around in the Bronco?” Jake hissed quietly, walking over to his wife. “Do you know what could happen to her there?”

“I’m sure that they’ll wear their seatbelts, Jake.”

“Babe, do you remember what we did when I took you for a ride in my truck? A nice slow ride on a summer night?” Jake asked, causing his wife to sigh again.

“Jake, they’re just friends.”

“That’s what we told your parents. Six months later, we were going at it like rabbits naked as the days we were born in the back of my pickup truck!”

“Jacob! For the love of—”

“—Why can’t you see that we’re losing her?” Jake interjected, causing his wife to pause for a moment.

The annoyed expression on her face dropped and she instead simply stared at her husband with a softer expression. Taking a step towards her husband. Rubbing his arm supportively, Jake’s wife reached out and grabbed his hand to give it a squeeze.

“We’re not losing her, Jake.”

“We are losing her,” Jake insisted, his voice coming out small. “She’s moving so far away in only a couple of months and she’ll barely have time to come home. She’s spent most of the last two years barely home between all of her activities and her friends. And I’m so proud of her, but she’s . . .”

“Growing up?” Jake’s wife suggested with a small smile. “Jake, she’s eighteen now. She’s not a little baby anymore.” Cupping Jake’s cheek with her hand, Jake’s wife offered him a small supportive smile. "She’s growing into her own person. And she’s your daughter so she’s stubborn as hell and won’t listen to anyone else while she does it. Least of all us.”

“But she’s going so far.”

“You’re in DC every other month,” Jake’s wife pointed out, rubbing his back. “And she has a phone. She’ll call us. She’s not leaving and never comin back, Jake.”

“She might if he gets involved,” Jake muttered under his breath, causing Jake’s wife to shoot him a look.

“Jake, they’re just friends. And even if they’re not, he’s a perfectly nice boy.”

“But, a Bradshaw? Really? She can do better than that.”

“I’m sure that Rooster would say the same if the situation was reversed,” Jake’s wife replied, shaking her head lightly. “But do not push Rose away by trying to come between her and Nick. The more that you make it seem like she’s rebelling, the more that she’s going to want to do it.”

“But I know exactly what the little twerp has planned!” Jake insisted, causing his wife to sigh.

“First of all, that little twerp is now taller than you. Second of all, Rose is a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders. She can take care of herself. Especially after all of those years of self-defense classes that you put her in.”

“She could kick his ass in three seconds,” Jake agreed, causing his wife to laugh.

“So, stop worrying about him. Just focus on spending time with your daughter, Jake. Okay?”

Pressing a soft kiss to Jake’s lips, she gave his hand a squeeze before walking off to continue on with her day. Jake stood there for a moment, thinking over his wife’s words, before the doorbell rang. Hearing Rose upstairs start to hurry, Jake quickly made his way to the door.

Nicholas Peter Bradshaw seemed a little surprised to see Jake standing at the door and subconsciously straightened up a bit more. Jake’s wife wasn’t lying—Nick was taller than Jake by a few inches, but he was like a little puppy in Jake’s eyes. And not just because Nick always wore a stupid lovesick smile on his face whenever Rose was around.  

“Hey, Uncle Hangman,” Nick greeted him politely, nodding to him.

“You should get in the habit of calling me Admiral Seresin, Cadet,” Jake replied calmly, causing Nick to subtly wince a bit.

“Yes, sir.”

Jake nodded curtly as Rose hurried down the stairs, dressed for the San Diego heat. Letting out a light growl, Rose darted around her dad, grabbed Nick by the arm, and started pulling him towards the Bronco that was parked in the driveway.

“Goodbye!” Rose called over her shoulder.

“Be careful!” Jake called after them. “And think before you do anything!”

“Goodbye!” Rose emphasized back at her dad.

~~~~~

After the Bronco ride, Jake was still on alert when it came to Nick Bradshaw. His wife told him to calm down each and every time, warning him that he was going to give Rose a ‘complex’ if he kept trying to police her life like that, but Jake could just feel it in his bones that he should not trust Nick Bradshaw around his eldest daughter.

And because his instincts were second to none, he was proven right.

Jake was just starting to drift off to sleep with his wife happily tucked into his side. It was a warm night in Miramar and the air conditioner was running full blast. The white noise helped to lull his wife to sleep but Jake had always been a light sleeper, so it took more for him to fall asleep. Jake rested his head on top of his wife’s when he swore that he heard a noise from outside.

Jake picked his head up with his eyes cracked open, suspicious. He was always on alert. His wife often told him that he took the role of protecter a bit too seriously, but Jake couldn’t give in even a little bit with that. For his own conscience.

Getting up from bed, careful to not wake his wife, Jake padded down the hall. Passing by his younger children’s rooms, Jake kept his ear tuned to try and hear the sound. He peeked out the window, trying to spot any sort of indication about what could have made the noise. Like the neighbor’s stupid dog. And when he heard the subtle squeak again, Jake’s eyes narrowed.

~~~~~

Rose Seresin, meanwhile, was trying to open her window. She tried greasing the sides of it during the day, but it still made that stupid squeak occasionally. Holding her breath and hoping that her dad, who she knew was a light sleeper, didn’t hear her, Rose opened the window and looked down to see Nick waiting for her below.

He smiled up at her and waved, causing Rose’s heart to flutter in her chest. It wasn’t exactly planned for her to fall in love with her childhood best friend. But, as her mom told her, sometimes the heart just wants what it wants. And hers wanted Nick Peter Bradshaw.

Blowing him a quick kiss, Rose grinned and slid one leg out of her window. Planting her sneaker clad foot on the roof, Rose carefully slipped out of her window and lowered it a bit more, just in case her parents check in on her during the next few hours. Climbing down the side, Rose prepared to kick off and drop onto the soft mulch below when a chill went down her spine.

“Rose Leslie Seresin, what do you think you’re doing?”

Startled, Rose’s grip on the ledge slipped and she fell a bit. And Nick, also startled and close to shitting his pants, tried to catch her, but he ended up just acting as padding for Rose’s fall. Jake, still dressed in his pajamas, hurried over to help his daughter.

“Are you alright?” Jake called, pulling Rose to her feet and leaving Nick on the ground. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Rose sighed, brushing dirt off of her.

“Then why were you jumping out of your window?” Jake hissed, pointing up at the window to her bedroom. “In the middle of the night?”

Rose, who, all thing’s considered, was a bit of a golden child, froze in place, not really sure what to say. The evidence was right there, after all. And nothing that she could come up with would somehow make all of that go away.

“That’s what I thought,” Jake practically growled, before turning to look down at Nick. “What are you doing here, Cadet?”

“His name is Nick,” Rose stated, coming to Nick’s defense.

“And your ass is grounded,” Jake snapped back, causing Rose to shrink into herself. “I cannot believe that you would be so irresponsible, Rose! Running around with him in the middle of the night! Climbing out of your window! What the hell do you think that you were doing!?”

“Why the hell are you . . .” Jake’s wife called, stepping outside, before she spotted the situation at hand. Sighing, she took a deep breath before walking down to the scene. “Come inside. You’re going to wake up the neighbors.”

Once they were all inside, Jake’s wife told him to take a breath and to go and call Rooster to pick his son up. Rose sat on the couch, curled up on herself, looking like she wanted to burst into tears. Nick sat on the opposite side of the room, staring over at Rose, but unable to reach out to comfort her because then Jake might really bite his head off.

“Your parents will be here in ten minutes,” Jake grunted to Nick, who winced, before turning to Rose. “Do you have any explanation for this, young lady?”

“Jake,” Jake’s wife called to him softly, not wanting to see her daughter burst out into tears. “Give her a second to collect herself.”

Though he already had about a two-hour scold on the tip of his tongue, Jake bit it back. Mostly because he didn’t want to see his daughter burst out into tears either, even if he was livid about what he just saw outside.

He knew that he shouldn’t have trusted Nick Bradshaw.

Rooster and his wife showed up promptly, looking a bit concerned and harried. Rooster’s wife was completely embarrassed and practically grabbed Nick by the ear to drag him out of the Seresin household. With a quick apology to Jake and his wife, Rooster’s wife pulled her son outside and to the family car, leaving Rooster to drive the Bronco home.

But Rooster just had a few words to share with Hangman before he took his own leave.

“Go easy on her,” Rooster stated, causing Jake to scowl at him.

“As if I’ll take any sort of parenting advice from you, Rooster, after what your son just did.”

“Right, because you were a saint when you were a teenager. Never sneaking out or sneaking your now wife out in the middle of the night, right?” Rooster asked dryly, causing Hangman to narrow his eyes. “They’re eighteen, but they’re still kids. They make mistakes and they deserve a chance to learn from them. Don’t let your own fears fuck with her head. Cause it’ll take decades to undo that.”

Jake simply clenched his jaw in response, so Rooster saw himself out. Glaring down at the floor for a moment, Jake turned to see Rose burst off the couch and run upstairs to her room again. Jake’s wife walked behind her, trying to calm her down, but Rose kept going until she reached her room. Jake’s wife shot him a concerned look before hurrying up the stairs after her.

Jake stood where he was, hearing his wife lightly knock on the door and walk into Rose’s bedroom. Jake walked upstairs slowly after a few moments and quietly padded down the hall to Rose’s room. But he could hear his daughter crying before he even reached her door.

“Honey, it’s going to be alright,” Jake’s wife told her daughter, trying to comfort Rose.

“No, it’s not! Nick’s never going to want to see me again after this!”

“Rose, he probably wants to see your right now,” Jake’s wife assured Rose, probably squeezing her into her side.

“And Dad probably hates me!” Rose cried, causing Jake’s heart to shatter in his chest.

“Your father will never hate you, Rose,” Jake’s wife stated firmly, not giving her daughter a moment to doubt herself. “He’s just upset.”

“You didn’t see him, Mom. He hates me! And Nick’s probably going to break up with me now and . . .” Rose trailed off with just a couple of cries and gasps for air.

Lowering his head, Jake walked away from the door and back to his own bedroom.

~~~~~

A week had passed and Rose was completely avoiding Jake. If he walked into the room, she quickly left it or didn’t make eye contact. She spent most of the day up in her room, serving out the grounding that Jake and his wife agreed upon for sneaking out through her window. He wasn’t sure if she was in contact with Nick at all, but either way, he felt like he couldn’t ask.

And with only two weeks left until Rose headed out to the East Coast for college, Jake knew that he had to try make sure that his relationship with his daughter was salvaged before she left and probably never looked or came back.

Walking upstairs, Jake headed down the hall and knocked on the door to Rose’s room. She opened it a few moments later and her features instantly sunk a bit when she noticed it was him standing there. Lowering her head, Rose hid a bit more behind the door.

“What is it?”

“Let’s go for a drive.”

“Dad, I just—”

“—Please?” Jake interjected, causing Rose to glance up at him.

Ten minutes later, they were driving down the road, just the two of them, in Jake’s truck that they used for their beach days and family road trips. Rose was silent in the passenger seat, her gaze focused out the window and her entire body curled away from him. But Jake remained patient and focused on the road in front of him.

Pulling into the old diner that he used to take all of his kids to when they were small and his wife was either working or taking some ‘me’ time, Jake glanced over to catch Rose’s reaction. She frowned a bit and turned to look at him for the first time during their drive.

“Why are we here?”

“Well, it’s lunch time, isn’t it?”

They got out of the truck, with Rose being a bit reluctant, and headed inside the diner. They were quickly seated in a booth and Rose used the menu to put a barrier between her and her dad. Jake remained patient and smiled at the older waitress as she walked over to take their orders. Jake and Rose gave their orders before being left on their own.

“Did you get everything that you need before you go?” Jake asked Rose softly, who shrugged her shoulders in response.

“Most of it. We’ll just pick it up when we get there. That’s what Mom said to do.”

“Are you packed then?”

“Somewhat,” Rose replied, keeping her voice quiet.

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jake folded his arms underneath him and let out a sigh when Rose kept her responses short and her gaze lowered and away from his own. She fiddled with the paper wrap holding the utensils together, doing anything to fill the time and avoid having to talk to him.

“Rosie? Can you look at me?”

Rose glanced up at her dad, sinking a bit in her seat. Jake straightened up a bit, his expression serious and concerned, but his voice remained low and calm.

“I don’t hate you, Rosie. I could never hate you. You’re my daughter. My baby girl. And no matter what you do, I’ll never hate you, okay?”

“I know,” she replied quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me and your mom about Nick?” Jake asked softly and not accusatorily.

“Because I knew that you would freak out,” Rose explained quietly. “And I really like him, so I didn’t want to scare him away or mess anything up between our families.”

“And he treats you well? Makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” Rose stated, nodding confidently. “He does.”

“Did he ever make you feel uncomfortable? Or pressure you into doing something that you didn’t want to do but he did?”

“No. The whole window situation was my idea,” Rose replied, causing Jake to sigh.

“About that—”

“—Dad, I don’t want to talk about it,” Rose interjected, lowering her head again.

“Rosie,” Jake began, though she kept her gaze away from him, “I know that you really like Nick. But I don’t want you to . . . build your life around him. You’re only eighteen. You have your whole life in front of you. Both of you do.”

“I know. I’m not saying that we’re getting married,” Rose insisted, picking her head up a bit defensively.

“And that makes me very happy to hear,” Jake replied, causing Rose to sigh. “But I just don’t want you to get into a situation that you’ll regret down the line. I did a lot of stupid stuff when I was your age and I was lucky that in the end everything worked its way out.”

“I know. Grandma told me,” Rose stated, causing Jake to wince.

“All of it?”

“Just the bit about Grandpa threatening to shoot you when they thought you knocked up Mom,” Rose explained, reaching for her drink.

“Yeah, I remember that conversation,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “And I don’t want you to ever be put in that position, Rosie.”

“Dad, I’m not stupid.”

“Are you calling your mom and I stupid then?” Jake countered, causing Rose to press her lips together.

“I’m not going to answer because I don’t want to be grounded again.”

“Good choice,” Jake stated, sitting up a bit straighter. “The point is, I remember what it was like to be a teenager and everything that goes along with it. And I made a lot of mistakes with your mom back then and even later and I wanted to protect you from all of that. But,” Jake emphasized, causing Rose to raise an eyebrow, “you’re going off to college soon and I need to accept that you’re growing up.”

“I’ve been growing up for a while, Dad,” Rose replied softly, shifting in her seat.

“I know, but I was in denial because it’s scary how fast you grew up. And you’ve accomplished more than I ever thought possible,” Jake continued, causing Rose to nod slowly. “Hell, you’re ten times better off than I was at your age and you get most of it from your mom, that’s for sure, and I’m so proud of you and I know that you’ll do even better at college and . . .”

Jake trailed off for a moment, taken back to a different day, about fourteen years ago, when Rose sat across from him at a booth in this dinner. She was missing about three teeth in her smile and her hair was pulled back away from her face. And she had a ketchup stain in her dress afterwards that his wife was not happy about, but made Rose giggle when he was getting scolded about it.

“Dad?” Rose called, bringing Jake back to the present.

Blinking a bit rapidly, Jake stared over at his daughter, who seemingly grew into a young woman overnight. She wasn’t a baby anymore. She didn’t need him or her mom like she needed them before. And she was ready to spread her wings and fly high, like they always knew she could.

“I don’t love the idea of you dating . . . but if Nick treats you right . . .”

“He does.”

“And he makes you happy . . .” Jake continued.

“He does,” Rose repeated, nodding curtly.

“Then you don’t have to hide your relationship from us anymore.” Rose noticeably perked up, but Jake was quick to add his paternal disclaimer. “But that doesn’t mean you two get to just do whatever you want. No excessive PDA and don’t ever think about climbing out of your window like that again. You’ll break your neck and then I’ll break him for not catching you.”

“Dad.”

“And if he gets you into any of the situations that your grandmother described to you about me and your mom back in the day—”

“—We won’t!”

“But if you do, I’m still an admiral. And if Nick wants to stay in the Navy, he better understand that I’m not afraid to call in some favors to serve him the consequences of his actions.”

“You mean Uncle Coyote?”

“I’ll call in a lot of favors,” Jake vowed, tapping his finger on the table threateningly, though Rose cracked a small smile in return.

~~~~~

The old Dagger Squad members who lived out and around southern California gathered during the last few days of summer to wish Nick and Rose good luck before they both headed out to the East Coast to start the next chapters of their young lives. Separate chapters or at the very least adjacent chapters in Jake’s mind.

Jake glanced over at where Rose and Nick were playing cornhole with a couple of the other Dagger kids when he felt arms wrap around his waist. His wife pressed a kiss to his back, between his shoulder blades, and rested her head against him.

“You made it right?”

“Mostly,” Jake replied, causing his wife to smile.

“I knew that you could,” Jake’s wife returned, walking around to his front.

“I still don’t like it. Or him,” Jake insisted as his wife cupped his cheek.

“But?” Jake’s wife suggested, rubbing his cheek with her thumb.

Jake sighed, turning away from his wife for a moment, before reluctantly turning back to face her. She arched her brow, like she knew exactly what he was going to say in response.

“But he makes her . . . somewhat happy.”

“I’m surprised that you survived that sentence,” Jake’s wife replied, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips that Jake returned happily.

“Barely.”

Wrapping an arm around his wife, like they were the teenagers, Jake glanced over at cornhole to see Nick with his arm wrapped around Rose’s waist.

“Don’t get too comfortable over there, Cadet!”

“Dad!”

“Jake!”