#also there are others I should have tagged but my brain went empty

[mangowillow]

last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person? 

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead. 

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?” 

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night. 

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen. 

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than. 

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you. 

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…” 

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond. 

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.” 

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.” 

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights. 

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul. 

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him. 

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?” 

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond. 

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles. 

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio. 

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away. 

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

[akai-anna]

Rambling post about The Art TM

Firstly, a special thank you to @livmadart who fuelled my motivation with her lovely tags on my art to finish making this post as soon as I could (life just likes to get in my way). You are such an amazing person and artist (by the way, everyone should totally check out Liv's BDay piece for our favourite little menace BECAUSE IT'S GORGEOUS), and your words always mean a lot to me (even if I'm not the best at communication, for which I apologize, still love and adore you, despite the awkwardness and sporadic talks).

The Idea

My art was inspired by the amazing @detshin's piece. Ever since I've seen it, I felt the urge to make a companion piece for it; I adore the composition and the symbolism in it to bits.

The Concept

I also wanted to take my own spin on the piece. From the start I wanted:

Conan's eyes not being covered (because he can see)

Conan looking at the viewer like he is looking straight into your soul. No thoughts, head empty why, it just felt right.

His mouth to be the one that is covered in some way. The sheer symbolism of his mouth being obstructed (but cannot speak) just made my heart ache so badly.

Changing the outfit based on this musing of mine.

As for the rest, it came about when sketching around, and waiting for that CLICK in my brain. And the forget-me-nots covering his mouth was that CLICK: SYMBOLISM IS MY LIFEBLOOD.

The Materials

I had 2 techniques in mind: watercolours and soft pastels. Ultimately I decided on soft pastels because

I haven't worked with pastels in YEARS, yet I adore the technique

I haven't used these pastels since I got them from an attic cleaning that we did for an old lady last year-ish (they would have been thrown away, after YEARS OF DISUSE and my heart couldn't take it, SUCH BEAUTIFUL MATERIALS TO WASTE AWAY)

I felt that what the material has to offer suited this particular piece: the vibrant colours offering a certain contrast to the original piece, and a certain feel (especially on the right paper) to the texture.

After some testing, I decided that going with a dark background works better: it made the colours more vibrant, and the slight texture of the paper did its magic. + Dark VS Light background colour was another nice contrast between the two pieces.

The Making

At first I didn't know what to use to sketch with, so I tested a couple things, and ultimately went with a white pencil: easy enough to erase if needed but also visible enough to see on this particular paper I had.

Looking up and studying tons of reference pictures for various things (sometimes with more, sometimes with less luck): the pose, facial features, the flowers... I have a whole folder of 'em LMAO

Actually drawing that sketch LOL

Then came the colours, which I tested on a separate piece of paper, to see which ones I want to use... After that I added the main blocks of colours.

And when I liked it, proceeding with the actual colouring: mixing all the different colours and layering them. In some places I used 4-6 colours (or more, depending how you look at it), while I used only 2, but mostly 3 in others.

Lastly: I used hairspray as a fixative, which slightly changed the quality and texture of the pastels and colours. (See below.)

The Feelings

As mentioned above, it has been years (I think around a decade actually, what the fck) since I used soft pastels, so it was a bit of a challenge to get back into using the material (and I'm not as experimental and confident I want to be yet, and likely fried my brain a little in the process). Also tons of fun, though! I forgot how much fun is there in the process of creation, and this piece brought that back into my life.

[hyperfixat]

so, i played this game mindmindmind by @chattercap and i loved it so much! def go play it if you have the means to do so — i doubt this will get as much traction as my other fics do, but i really just had to write this!! also its so odd knowing that im tagging the creator so im extra sorry if i mischaracterize him >.< 

i went forward with my writing assuming (after a thorough mental debate) that geist can interact w the physical world around him, but only when he stirs enough turmoil within you. like there are moments within the game where he touches you and ur phone, but. idk. it feels different somehoe.

while playing the game i really tried to get the ‘good’ ending where you ‘defeat’ geist but he’s so alluring!!1 my goodness if i didn’t melt at the end — man oh man. this is literally word vomit of a situation trying to evoke a similar emotion to that scene near the end where you resist or accept him (trying to avoid spoiling it TT)

quick tw for; meal skipping due to depression, depression and it’s symptoms, negative self image, and just, all around you don’t start or end in a good place mentally., also burns from hot water.  nothing deadly or anything, but like. burns.

honestly i didn’t have many ideas my brain was just kinda rotting over him TT so this is what my sleep deprived  mind came up with. but ykaow its something (also ignore any canon divergence, it's about vibes not canon.. )  not proof read.  1.6k words.

Your body creaks like rusty hinges when you dragged yourself out of bed, the time already reading half past noon.  Too late for breakfast, not that you were likely to have made anything anyway.

There’s a calm in the kitchen, though you can’t bring yourself to fully appreciate it.  At least Geist hasn’t made himself known as of yet.  That’d be just what you needed on a day like this.  (Sarcastic.) 

The electric kettle boils on its socket and you stand too close to it in an attempt to bring warmth to your tired body.  Despite having slept into the afternoon there’s an ever-lingering tired that clings to your whole body.  Only when steam starts to pour from the kettle and you risk getting burned if you remain stagnant for longer do you move to prepare your instant ramen.

Your arms feel weak when you lift the kettle and that’s a sign for what is to come, in hindsight.  Perhaps you should have taken the time to move the styrofoam container to the table and pour your water on a clearer surface than your tiny counters.  You do manage to pour an adequate amount of near-boiling water in the cup, but you also pour an adequate amount all over your counter and clothes.

You hiss out in pain, tossing the (now empty) kettle on a free section of stovetop. 

���Oh dear, what have we here?”  The only thing that can make this situation worse. You can never be the only one to bear witness to your failures, can you?

Gritting your teeth, you pull the steaming clothes away from your skin, making a hurried scuttle to your bedroom.  Luckily the only clothes you bothered to wear to bed last night was a large shirt, one that slips off of your body easily, despite being soaked.  You maneuver to the bathroom, taking in the red hue of your torso.  

“Fuck me,” you groan, running a hand over the skin before hissing at the heat.  It seems you’re being forced to take that shower you’ve been putting off.  You feel a presence in the doorway and ghostly green eyes track your moves to the bath as you turn on the cold water.  

It’s old and stained, and likely in need of a cleaning, but there is a tub attached to your shower, so you’re going to use it.  Steeling the rest of your body, you plug the tub and step into the icy water. You make yourself suppress a whimper at the cold, it doesn’t help that you already had a chill set in your body from hunger.  Your stomach clenches, a reminder of what you’d done and you sink down fully into the water.

Over the rushing of the still pouring water, you hear fabric on fabric and when you open your eyes Geist is sitting on the edge of the tub, regarding you.  His expression is hard to discern, something between cool indifference and pity. He doesn't acknowledge your state of undress, bless him for that.

His large, slender hands dip into the water, making it ripple where his fingertips hit. Geist hums as he takes in the temperature.

“What a poor thing you are,” Geist begins. “Can’t even make yourself something to eat without messing up somehow.”

You inhale deeply and close your eyes, attempting to drown out his words. He lets you sit in peace for a few moments, eventually turning the faucet off when it fills to submerge your hot chest.  

“No rebuttal?” He lets out an amused laugh, entirely unfitting of the situation.  “I see how it is.”

You hope the burns aren’t anything serious, even if they were you don’t know if you’d go to a hospital right away.  Some things go away if you ignore them hard enough.  Sadly this logic does not apply to Geist.

Being watched doesn’t make for a very relaxing bath, but you’re only there to cool your body off, and it does. You get on your shaky legs after you’ve deemed yourself far too cold to stay in there any longer and unplug the drain and turn on the shower head to rinse the bath water off (and properly clean yourself).  Geist leaves when you stand up to shower, leaving you to bask in the cool, quiet drizzle from the faucet.

After getting changed into another set of pajamas (as you don’t plan to leave the house and know you won’t change whatever you’re wearing before bed), you find Geist has made himself completely useless, taking up a seat at the small table cornered on the kitchen to form a make-shift dining room.  He’d stepped over and through the mess you’d made, favoring to make use of the scarcely used furniture.

His eyes feel like fire as they track you cleaning the kitchen.  “Are you really just going to watch?”  His eyebrows raise, as if shocked by your sudden question.

“Why, with how cold you’ve been to me I’d assume you’d want me to leave you all alone.” Geist stands, tall form looking far too elegant for his surroundings.  “But, allow me,” he grabs the cup of noodles from your hands and pours them in the garbage disposal.  “Hey-!”  Those noodles were still perfectly edible, not that there was much left in the cup rather than on the floors.

“Surely you can spare ten cents to prepare a new container.” Geist ignores your open-jawed stare, moving to grab a reusable towel and mop up the mix of broth and warm water on the counter, leaving the floor to you. 

By the time your floor is dry and no longer holds the smell of ramen broth you’re too exhausted to bother making a new cup of noodles.  You shuffle back over to your bed and fall back into the covers and try to bury yourself.

Geist stands at the foot of your bed, looking eerie in the low light.  With him carries the lingering scent of ramen.  You look away from him and avert your gaze to the dim glow of your phone.

“I made you your meal.” He can’t even call it lunch anymore, the time on your phone shows its half past four.  The act of kindness catches you off guard and you look at him, eyes dull, expecting him to laugh or throw the food on the ground and sneer, but he doesn’t.  He even has some utensils ready for you.

You slide against your headboard and pull your blankets down past your chest, gesturing that he can hand the cup to you.  He does, beginning to monologue after you take a bite.

“I had waited for you to take action, but it seems you’ve gotten to the point that you’re incapable of doing something as simple as feeding yourself.  I took it upon myself to prepare your meal, truly it’s appalling you’ve made it this far in your life.  What would have become of you if I weren’t here?” He gives a sigh, as if contemplating the horrible conditions you would face if not for him.  “A grown person, unable to properly feed themself, what’s next – do you need me to brush your teeth for you as well?”

You shrink back at the harsh words, face growing hot with shame, realizing he’s right.  You can hardly function, all you do is rot away and he’s the remediator, here to curb your decay.  Despite having plenty of broth, the noodles taste dry in your mouth and you feel the urge to ugly sob, but your eyes do not prick with tears. 

“I’m sorry.” The words come out choked with phlegm and emotion.  

“Oh, now look at you,” Geist lets out a mildly less exasperated sigh and sits on the edge of your bed, lightly, as to not spill your ramen. His hand rests on your ankle overtop of your blanket.  “I’m not mad at you, I’ll still treasure you no matter how incapable you are.”

You finish your – call it what it is – dinner, and Geist takes it to your kitchen to dispose of it.  You shiver, his voice still lingering in the air, his words haunting you.

It’s hard to be alone, it’s even harder when you’re as vulnerable as you are currently, so when Geists asks to join you, you can’t refuse the offer.

“There we go,” Geist gently moves you to the side of your bed, taking the spot next to you, his cold, cold hands resting on your sides.  “Are you going to be on your phone the whole evening, darling. That is unwise.  You’re tired.”

He’s right.  You are tired.  You let him hold you as you fall into rest, it’s nice to be held.  He holds you and doesn’t let go, even when you wake in the early hours of morning, a wave of clarity and repulsion coming over you.  

You try to push him away, claiming he’s cruel, but you’re no match for a man like him, a man who holds you as you shutter with unshed tears, cooing about how it will all be fine as long as he’s here, and letting you know he’ll stay.  And, maybe, just maybe, it will be okay as long as Geist stays with you – you only need him and as his words echo as you go back to sleep, reassured.  I’ll love you no matter how broken you are. Broken as you may be, you lie with him, knowing deep down he won’t put you back together.

[miscfandomwrites]

Mama: Chapter Eight

A/N: Bit of a filler chapter, as I want there to be some time before I get to some of the more good stuff. Also, I’m aiming for a double chapter upload this week to make up for last week. Oh, and my Master Taglist is under construction, so if you aren’t tagged in this series and want to be, LET ME KNOW! My master taglist does not update with everyone that I put on it. 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings:

Words: 1.9k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“CLINT NO!” I yelled across the floor as I watched the man start downing an entire pot of coffee from the pot itself.

Lillith was falling into a giggling fit as I vaulted over the couch and ran into the kitchen. As soon as he saw me get up, he ran out and passed me into the living room to continue his atrocious habit. 

Before I could grab him however, that fucker finished the pot.

“Really asshole? You could have saved some for me!” I told him with a huff as I crossed my arms.

He shrugged and grinned at me as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

I shook my head and took the empty pot from him, and went into the kitchen to make some more coffee.

“Hey Mom?” Lillith called out from the living room.

Still focusing on my current task at hand, I replied with a “Yeah?” 

“What is a stripper?” She called out. I paused my actions, before slowly turning around and looking at the living room. 

As soon as Clint saw my facial expression, he found it better to get away than to face my wrath.

He hopped on one of my bookcases before I could reach him, and pulled himself into the vents as I cursed after him.

“What is it?” Lillith repeated as I crawled down from the bookcase.

My mind went blank for a second, before I reminded myself to stranger Clint later.

“A stripper is someone who makes money dancing.” I finally settled on telling her that.

“Like your girlfriend?” She replied, cocking her head to the side.

“....my girlfriend?” I questioned her, raising an eyebrow.

“The one that looks like Merida. Red hair, looks mean but likes cookies.” she said, hugging her wolf closer to her.

“Natasha?” 

“Yeah! That’s her name. Is she your girlfriend?” 

“No, honey.” I told her, ruffling her hair.

“Awwww” she said as she went back to the table to finish her drawings.

“This is wonderful! It must be kept on the refrigerator!” Thor boomed as he held up Lillith’s latest drawing. It was a drawing of Thor holding his hammer, with a bunch of what I assumed were storm clouds and lighting. 

Lillith grinned at the praise as Thor strode over to place the paper on the fridge, next to the dozens of others that she had done.

“Hey, is Mr. Stark in here?” A voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw a teenage boy, which made me rack my brain to figure out who Tony adopted this time.

“Depends, what’s your name, kid?” I asked him.

“P-Peter Parker. My name is Peter Parker.” He replied, stuttering. He looked a bit fearful at me. It must be due to the all-black fatigues Bucky got for me that I was trying to break in.

I nodded. “Spider child. Got it. He should be in the garage.” I told him.

“Pepperoni? Can I go see him mom! Pleaseeeeee!” Lillith whined from beside me. I lifted her in my arms, still staring at the boy.

When she first met Stark, she thought his name was Pepperoni, like the pizza topping. Stark, unfortunately reinforced that nickname himself (Thanks to Clint and Bucky, no doubt.)

“As long as I go with. Let’s go.” I said as I strode to the elevator, one teenage spider child in tow.

“Get that out of your mouth!” I yelled as I raced towards Lillith, who was eating….something.

“Mama it’s just rainbow candy. Pete made it!” She said as she continued eating it.

I examined the ‘candy’ on the pans, realizing it was part of his science project or something.

I sighed, rubbing my head at the oncoming headache.

“I heard a yell, what’s up?” Peter said as he walked in. He saw Lillith eating the candy and tore off a piece for himself. “Is it good?” He asked as she examined the candy ribbon.

She nodded furiously as she kept eating the piece she had. He laughed and ruffled her hair, before offering me a piece, which I refused.

“So, when do you go to school Lil?” He questioned her as he started bagging up the ribbon.

“Tomorrow! We gotta go shop for school mama!” She said with a mouthful of candy.

“I know, I’m gonna ask if Steve and Bucky want to go with us. Finish your candy.” I told her, smoothing the hair Peter had ruffled up.

“Friday can you-”

“Already told Bucky and Steve, they are in the elevator down here as we speak.” Friday’s voice cut me off. I nodded as I found Lillith’s coat and helped her put it on, and started tracking down mine.

“Venti black coffee please. Nothing in it, just black coffee.” I told the barista. She nodded and I stepped aside so Barnes could order.

I rubbed my head, trying to ignore the pounding headache. I gave in, and took off my backpack and got some ibuprofen from it.

Thankfully my order was simple, and it came quick thanks to an almost-empty starbucks. I took a swig of coffee and swallowed the pills, before shrugging the backpack on. 

Rogers was outside with Lillith, both munching on croissants and talking about whatever a seventy year old and a six year old could have in common. 

“You look exhausted. I can almost see the bags under your eyes with those glasses on.” Barnes told me, one hand on my shoulder, the other reaching around me to get his drink.

“Oh, sorry” I quickly exclaimed as I moved out of the way. However, thanks to the metal arms I was firmly stuck in place. 

He took a sip of his drink, before setting it down and turning fully towards me. He gently slid off my glasses and tucked them into my shirt pocket.

“Listen, (Y/N), I know being a mom is tough, but with everything else you’re also doing, with work and staying up late and god knows what else you’ve been doing, you need to stop and rest.” He said gently.

I sipped my coffee and stared at him as he continued.

“You need to rest. Both Natasha and I are worried-and I know motherhood isn’t something you can just put on hold so hear me out on this,” He said, stopping to take a breath. “I’m going to call Natasha, who is going to pick you up, and you are going to go home, take a warm shower and brush your teeth and do whatever routine you do before bed, eat something, drink some water, and sleep. If I have to have Natasha on your ass about this, I will. Actually I’m going to, because I know your stubborn ass will be back in the garage with Tony.” 

I only nodded in reply, still sipping on my coffee. He waved a barista over and ordered a venti water, and traded it with my coffee despite my complaints.

“Water, not caffeine.” He told me as he directed me out the doors, one hand holding his phone to his ear. I walked towards Lillith and squatted to her height next to her.

“You’re going to hang out with Uncle Bucky and Steve for awhile okay? I’m going back home and I’ll see you there.” I told her gently, wiping some crumbs off her check.

“You look tired Mama” She said as she gently took my face in her hands. I closed my eyes and hummed, realshing in the feeling of closeness with her.

“I am. I’m going home and going to bed.” I replied.

“Luckily Nat was out running around, she should be pulling up now.” Barnes said as he walked towards us, sitting next to Steve. I nodded and took off the backpack.

“There’s wipes and a few toys in here, along with an extra pair of underwear and some other things.” I said as I handed the bag to Steve. 

I heard a car pull up and turned my head to see a black dodge challenger, with a familiar red head behind the steering wheel.

The window rolled down and Nat’s voice called out: “I heard I’m here to pick up an exhausted mom?” She said with a small smile. I nodded and groaned as I stood up, my back popping. 

I pulled Lillith into a side hug and kissed her forehead. “Be good.” I told her. She nodded and hugged me back with all the force a tiny six-year-old could muster. I opened the passenger door and got in, waving bye to Lillith as we drove off.

“Barnes was right. You do look exhausted.” She said as she glanced my way at a red light. I nodded, leaning my head against the seat and closing my eyes. She hummed and turned the heaters on to start warming up the car. Despite it being only August, it was already getting into the sixties and fifties. 

We rode in silence all the way back to the tower, and I took my time with my sluggish body in getting out and into the elevator.

“‘M gonna take a shower, then bed.” I told her as I leaned against the railing. Damn, I was tired. She nodded as she kept texting, no doubt to Barnes to update him on me.

We got to my floor and I went straight to my bedroom, pulling out some shorts and undergarments, and deciding to wear a light hoodie as a shirt to bed. I checked the time on my phone as I set it to my mellow playlist. It was only five thirty.

“Hey Nat,” I called out to the woman, leaning out of the bathroom doorway.

She walked into the bedroom, looking around before finding my face.

“Can you tell Clint to put Lillith to bed? If I go to sleep now I won’t be awake for that.” I said as I tossed the bundle of clothes on the countertop. She nodded before walking out. I shut the door and turned the shower on to warm as I shedded my clothes. I took a look at my naked self in the mirror, and was startled at the person who looked back. I looked paler than normal, and my ribs were more prominent along with the bags under my eyes. 

I shook my head and got into the shower, relaxing into the warm water and taking time to wash myself.

Once I got out and dried off, and took the time to properly brush through my hair, I took my dirty clothes and tossed them into the now-overflowing basket by the door. Natasha walked in while I was tossing the clothes on my bed onto my desk.

She held out a water bottle and some pills to me. “Drink this and take these. It’s melatonin, it’ll keep you asleep for awhile.” She said as I took them from her/

I drank half of the bottle and swallowed the pills, before climbing into bed. Nat set the bottle on my nightstand and got my phone out of the bathroom, and fiddled on it a bit as I tried to get comfortable. She was probably turning off my four am alarm for my morning workouts, and turning it onto silent mode. She plugged it in and pulled the covers around me once I settled.

“Get some sleep, (Y/N).” She whispered as she smoothed the hair off my face. I only hummed in response as she left, softly closing the door behind her as I fell into a black, dreamless sleep.

[writingmaidenwarrior]

The Cards We Got Dealt Part 5 - Sin Eaters AU

This is for the prompt "Lost"

Minor warning for implied nudity.

Tagging @cljordan-imperium@jezifster@noblebs

Solitude sharpens the awareness of small pleasures otherwise lost. Kevin Patterson

The fourth day of the gathering was slow. Most treaties and alliances have been forged and the sacrifices and big rituals for the gods had been done already. Slowly untangling himself from a still sleeping Talindra, Wynthan placed a kiss on her temple and went to get dressed.

They decided to spend the day away from each other, as well as the next one until the duel to not distract him. As he stepped into the living room of the cabin, he walked into Leenmera who sat there with Deiwryll.

“Good morning, I am just about to leave.”

“No before we talked to you,” Leenmera stated dead serious and pointed at an empty chair.

The feeling as he was about to be interrogated or worse rose in him.

“About what?”

“Talindra,” Deiwryll stated without a hint of emotion.

The feeling of interrogation changed to the feeling of being sent to execution. With his gaze wandering between them he sat down.

“I don’t know what we have to talk about her. She is your leader, and you should trust her judgement.”

Leenmera smirked and in this moment looked a lot like Talindra to his surprise.

“That is not what we want to talk to you about.”

Slowly Deiwryll got up and took position behind him, her huge hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“It is about your intentions with her. If you aren’t honest with her or hurt her, you better leave and never come back because leader or not, we will come after you.”

After the moment it took Wynthan to comprehend what just happened, he had to stifle the laughter.

“You are aware about the message she sent back to your home?”

“We are.”

“You are also aware we both plan to let the part of our clans who are at the gathering decide today on this matter?”

“Yes, we are aware but how does this matter?” Leenmera asked.

“It does matter because I wouldn’t do this if I am not dead serious about this”, Wynthan replied with as much authority as he could, “I tell you the same, I told her and I told my clan: I will not take away your clan or your pride as one if she decides to take me.”

Deiwryll took her seat again and looked at Leenmera. It was obvious some sort of nonverbal communication took place.

“Why so fast now?” Leenmera finally asked.

Wynthan huffed and let his head drop to his chest.

“The circumstances changed in a way we didn’t expect. I came here hoping to find her again. Never did I expect things to turn out like this. To be honest, the first night I thought my chance with her was lost and I will be forever grateful I was wrong.”

“You did what?”

Talindra’s voice sounded off from the small hallway. Everyone turned around and found her just wrapped in a blanket.

“I hoped to find you at the gathering, praying there was a future for us, but I never would have dreamed of things turning out the way they did.”

He smiled sheepish.

“You are such a coal brain, Wynthan,” Talindra laughed and rushed to him as good as possible while holding on the blanket to kiss him.

“I heard that before many times.”

They ignored the groans of Leenmera and Deiwryll.

“But you should get before I decide to keep you,” Talindra smiled into the next kiss.

“Or these two decide to bind me like some pig for a roast.”

“I like the idea,” Leenmera piped up.

He looked pointed at Talindra, but she just snickered.

“Yeah, stupid remarks are a family thing, get used to this.”

“You haven’t met my sisters yet. Gil is still harmless in this area.”

Gently she pushed herself away from him still smiling.

“Now move, coal brain before anyone might get funnier idea.”

Wynthan smirked and bowed slightly.

“Your wish is my command.”

“Yeah, we heard that last night,” Deiwryll stated dryly with a hint of a smirk.

To his surprise, Talindra got red and cleared her throat.

“That is private business. Where is Kylantha? I am surprised she didn’t partake in this war council.”

“Waiting for a raven to return,” Leenmera answered annoyed.

“There won’t be an answer until the evening, even if the clans are fast.”

Wynthan looked into the round and found the women sharing a knowing glance. He raised his hands in defense.

“I leave this to you. See you tomorrow at the duel.”

“Don’t you dare loose on me.”

“I never will.”

The shared naughty smiles made the other groan.

Using the calm day for some time to stroll over the gathering place and get a feeling for the current atmosphere at the place while heading back to his camp, Wynthan couldn’t help but wonder how things developed into this direction.

The rain from the day before was already forgotten and the ground dry again from the summer sun. The laughter and chatter from the people reached his ears from every side. A glance to the camp of the Cloud Tamers gave him a strange feeling. It was unusually empty with only some minimal amount of people left to keep it running and Orthenyr nowhere to be seen. Same counted for Ylvante. Only his warriors stood close by the cabin.

Either this mean Orthenyr was about to lose the backening of his own people and they planned to leave him for their partners clans or something else was at play.

His mind still occupied with what Orthenyr might plan Wynthan noticed almost too late how one of the other clan leaders approached him. It took him a moment to remember he was from the Wind Dancer clan.

“Do you have a moment?” the other one asked.

He was taller and bigger than Wynthan but somehow emanated some calm and peace like a resting bear you better not poke.

“Sure, how can I help?”

A smile danced around the corners of the other one’s mouth as he motioned to a few seats not far off.

“I actually thought I can help you. I had the unamusing pleasure to fight Orthenyr many years ago and if he trained his son, I could give you some pointers how to make it through this duel. I hoped to catch you sooner, but you were kind of busy.”

“You want me to win?”

His surprise was clearly audible in Wynthan’s voice as they sat down.

“Oh, not only me. The way Orthenyr acted and how his son plays along with how he makes his clan members his pawns he can dispense at any time tilted the scale heavily against him. Only the Mountain Callers are still siding with them but even this might change soon.”

A sly laugh escaped the other leader as he shook his head.

“I see. That explains why things have been so calm.”

“Not as much as you think, my young friend. A lot of Orthenyr’s people already used the chance of the gathering after the incident at your partner’s cabin to find other clans willing to take them. He will leave with only his most devotes members.”

Something about how it was said gave Wynthan a hunch the man in front of him might had a hand in this as well.

“I never head of a gathering ending like this,” Wynthan stated.

“Me neither, but they brought it upon themselves. Their actions after the duel will seal the fate of their clan finally. But coming back to why I seek you. Orthenyr doesn’t play fair, you know this by now. If Ylvante fights like his father, you have to watch out for poisoned blades, daggers being drawn out of his clothes and using his magic in any form it helps him. I don’t know what kind of magic is his, this will be a surprise, but you can work against the other things.”

Nodding along Wynthan got an idea.

“If I remember correctly, I have the right to choose the weapons as the one who called the duel?”

“That is true.”

“I have an idea.”

A mischievous snicker escaped him. Gilmyrn was more knowledgeable about those laws, and he need to ask him about it but if he was lucky, he could force Ylvante to fight on equal terms.

“May the gods favor you. Did you and clan leader Talindra already decided how to continue after the duel?”

“It depends on the decision of our people, but we have one. We hope to have a vote by tomorrow morning before the duel.”

The other leader snickered, obviously highly amused by all this.

“You know, my grandparents sort of met the same way. It was known they had been in the trial of fire between two gatherings and some coal brain of young clan leader thought he could take her just because he was a clan leader, and my grandfather wasn’t. It also ended in a duel. You can guess how it ended.”

“I can.”

Wynthan almost fell from the seat when the other leader friendly patted his back before getting up.

“You know we all want to see more children at those gathering.”

With this he left, ignoring the pained groan of Wynthan. It was already enough his mother will most likely annoy the life out of him once she learned about Talindra, he didn’t need the other leaders on his back as well.

“You ready?”

A mixture of excitement and worry laced Eshfyrr’s voice as he stepped into the room. Wynthan tried for the last minutes to find a way how to address everything but couldn’t find a good way. He only hoped Talindra dealt better with this.

“As ready as I can be. Let’s go before we all die of curiosity.”

The laughter of Eshfyrr strangely helped him relax.

They walked down and out to the small community place. Everyone was already gathered just like two days ago and chatting along. The crowd parted as they noticed him.

“Nat?”

Melleis had called for him. The small scroll in her hands could mean only one thing: The clan back home already voted.

“The raven is back?”

“Just came. Your mother held a voting yesterday evening the moment she knew, otherwise we wouldn’t have an answer that fast.”

He nodded and took the small scroll from her. Quickly he read over it and smirked.

“Good news?” Gilmyrn stepped next to him.

“Yeah. Back home they agreed to everything.”

“I told you they would. Now let’s do this and get this gods’ forsaken duel over.”

“There is some other news as well,” Wynthan stopped and showed.

“Delythea gave birth?”

“What?”

Melleis and Eshfyrr squealed at the same time and took the scroll from him.

“A little girl. Mom is going to spoil the poor one rotten.”

“Like you wouldn’t be different,” Melleis teased, “But maybe you will have your own little Nat running around you can spoil.”

“Whoa, slow down.”

Those around them snickered and chuckled at them what reminded him of why they gathered in the first place. Wynthan took the place at the head of the place and faced the crowd.

“I guess most of you already caught on what this is about.”

“When is the ceremony?” someone piped up what caused collective laughter.

Even Wynthan had to smile.

“Not that fast. There are some things we need to sort out first. The duel against clan leader Orthenyr’s son is one of those things. The others are more political. Clan leader Talindra and I came up with a unique solution to the current situation.”

“No mixing of the clans?”

“No, no mixing because it would mean her clan would cease to exist. After talking to the rite master, we learned there is also the option of becoming a new clan with a new name. Our idea is to have the new clan name be a mix of the names of both clans. What exactly it will be is yet to be discussed but we both want to keep something of the names to make our roots clear. Neither she nor I would do this without your backing.”

“That means we will be one big clan?”

“Where do you want to live then? Both villages are too far away.”

“I vote for Sea Seekers, which has a certain sound to it.”

The voices were a mess.

“Calm down everyone,” Wynthan raised his voice over the chaos.

It took a moment for them to calm down.

“Yes, we will be one big clan and we thought about making the trading post the leader’s village so everyone can get there equally fast. We will need to put a lot of work into making it into a real village, but I am sure we can do this.”

Silence laid over them for a moment.

“I vote for this.”

The first one raised his hand.

“I am in.”

Slowly one hand after the other got raised. Like a broken dam those first two votes in favor of the idea caused everyone else to raise their hands. It was hard to make out if anyone didn’t raise theirs. Touched by how fast and obviously the majority was in favor of this, Wynthan simply blinked at them.

“Hands down. Anyone against it?” Gilmyrn took over, his voice booming over the place.

No hand got raised.

“Anyone who has no clear opinion?”

Again, no hand got raised. It was a clear yes.

The second it sunk down in Wynthan his whole clan supported the idea of becoming a new clan, he needed to sit down.

“You alright?” Melleis inquired in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, give me a moment.”

“Didn’t expect this, did you?” Eshfyrr snickered.

A hand raised in defense, Wynthan smirked.

“No, I didn’t, but I am happy you guys could surprise me like this.”

“Now you only need to beat this wet towel of a wannabe clan leader,” Melleis snickered.

A grim smile on his face, Wynthan nodded. Beating Ylvante might become the biggest obstacle if he really relied on unfair methods.

[coro-chan6]

Somehow Supernatural

Tags: teen!oc, gn!oc, poc!oc, Dean being Dean, weird dreams, CROWLEY, demon dogs, Dean being scared of said demon dogs

Summary: Casey goes to bed, has weird dreams, and gets to meet the King of Hell.

Chapter Three: Yummy Food and Weird Shit

I will never deny that I was a foodie. I mean, if you saw me when I devour anything put in front of me, you wouldn’t even have to ask. I love everything about food. Sometimes I mix stuff together that other people think is weird like when I dip my waffles and pancakes in orange juice. I used to be the kid in elementary school who would mix everyone’s leftover lunches together and actually go through with eating it.

One thing I learned from all my years of eating is that post-panic attack meals are the best. After crying half my weight in water and depriving my brain of oxygen, food just hits different. Plus, Dean brought back chicken nuggets.

“Slow down, you’ll choke,” Dean said as he reached his hand to take my nuggies away. I obviously wasn’t gonna just let him do that so, I smacked the shit out of his hand. I didn’t think I put that much power into it but when I heard the smack echo, I knew.

“Mmfh,” I was trying to apologize before he kicked me out on my ass, but my mouth was full of about 4 chicken nuggets. Dean glared at me and went back to eating his double bacon cheeseburger.

Sam had come to sit down across from Dean and me after he had finished preparing his salad. Dean asked if his brother wanted anything from the restaurant, but Sam insisted on eating salad. I love salad as much as anyone, but when someone offers to buy you fast food, you fucking take it. Salad be damned.

Castiel was seated next to Sam opposite of me. He didn’t need to eat, so he was just reading the menu that had come with the fast food. Occasionally, he would look up from his reading to glance at me. It didn’t look threatening, but it did look like he had something to say.

“So,” I had finally swallowed down the colossal amount of chicken I stuffed down my face, “When are we going to go on a hunt?”

“We?” Dean quirked his eyebrow at me.

“Yes, we, Dean. I might as well since I’m here. What else am I supposed to do?”

Dean crumbled up the empty wrapper of his meal, “Nothing.”

“Sam?” I turned to the younger Winchester. He had been really nice to me. He wouldn’t agree with Dean.

“I agree with Dean.”

Well fuck.

So, basically, I was in this new universe and I couldn’t do jack shit but sit underground. That was so unfair! They should at least take me once, but from their faces, it didn’t look like they were gonna change their minds.

What did they even have to do in the bunker? I know they have alcohol. Too much alcohol, in fact, but even if I was of age, I’m not really interested. They also have a library full of hunter books. I know that sounds cool and I shouldn’t be complaining, but who would want to read books about these cool ass monsters if you could see them in person? Not me, that’s for sure.

“They should go on a hunt,” Castiel stated, not taking his eyes off his menu. How was that so interesting to him?

…wait.

“Did you just say I could go?!” I squealed.

“Did you just say they could go?!” The brothers yelled in unison.

“They can go with me,” Castiel said finally putting his menu down, “They won’t be harmed.”

I ran over to the other side of the table to tackle Castiel in a hug because I was so happy. Fried nerves be damned. He kind of froze for a second before awkwardly patting my back. Sam and Dean were still trying to get the angel to not bring me, but he didn’t budge.

“Who would watch them if we’re all gone? They’re a child, they need protection.”

Dean scoffed at that like it wasn’t kind of true before he stood from the table and stalked off. Presumably to his room. Sam shook his head in disbelief before he retired as well. 

Soon, Castiel and I were the only ones left at the table. I was still eating my fries and Castiel was staring at me. It would have been creepy if it had been anyone besides him, but he had this innocence about him that didn’t make him all that scary. Even though he was the only one here with powers strong enough to do God-knows-what, he didn’t make me feel frightened at all.

“Casey,” I perked up, “you should get some sleep. It’s late.”

I wasn’t sure how late it was because we were underground and I never asked, but now that Castiel brought up the subject of sleep, it made me yawn. I didn’t even register I was tired. It felt like it’d been so long since I last slept. I wasn’t sure if that was because of my eventful day or because it really had been that long.

I got up from the table and waved Castiel goodnight. I was halfway down the hallway before I realized that I didn’t know where I was going to sleep. No one had given me a room or anything. 

I wonder where my body was staying before I got here.

Not wanting to bother anyone, I slinked over to the couch I had sat on earlier and laid down. The couch had a blanket that was thick enough and a couple of pillows that weren’t too uncomfortable.

The thing that made me so uneasy was the fact that it was out in the open. The couch sat against one of the walls of the library. I never did well with new sleeping spaces, but when those sleeping spaces were so big and dark that you weren’t sure what was hiding in there… I did not like it. Plus, I couldn’t watch YouTube before bed. 

I’m not sure how, but I eventually went to sleep. I ended up in another void. This time I couldn’t see all my thoughts as words. This time I could see my mom. She was in the kitchen chopping vegetables. There was nothing on the stove and there was nothing in front of her to put the vegetables in. The only thing on the entire counter was the chopping board and the single carrot she was chopping. I wanted to know what she was doing and I tried to ask, but my mouth wouldn’t move. She looked me right in my eyes before she disappeared.

Next, I saw my dad. He was in the garage sitting on his motorcycle. The engine wasn’t running and the garage wasn’t even open, but my dad had all his gear on like he was gonna take off at any second. He wasn’t wearing his helmet though. I was standing in the doorway that lead from the house to the garage. My dad was facing in the other direction. He looked frozen in time. I couldn’t even see his body shift from breathing. It was like he was paused. I tried to walk up to him to tap him on the shoulder, but - again - I couldn’t move. My dad finally turned his face to me. Blood dripped from his mouth. Then, he disappeared too.

I saw my older brother out on the front porch. He was sitting in the gray chair that was facing me yet, I couldn’t see his face. His neck… his neck somehow had his head on backward. His fingers still typed at the computer on his lap even though he couldn’t see it. I didn’t try to move this time, but my brother did. One of his hands lifted off of the keyboard to point at something behind me. Then, he disappeared.

My little brother was next. He was in the basement playing on his gaming setup. Well, at least he was sitting at his gaming setup. His arms were at his sides and he was staring at a blank screen. I was standing directly behind him. I wanted to run. I didn’t want to see this creepy shit anymore, but I was stuck in place. I had to watch my little brother melt into a pile of flesh in his chair.

I didn’t like this dream. No matter how hard I tried to wake up, I couldn’t. I was stuck. Stuck watching some creepy version of my family from afar. I wished that I could hear Dean’s voice again. I wished he would wake me up by shaking my arms like he did before, but his voice never came. No one ever came. This wasn’t me feeling like a failure that didn’t deserve to be saved. I wanted to be saved. I needed to be saved.

“Save me!” A voice echoed through my head that I’d never heard before. I never heard this voice before, but I felt linked to them somehow. I wanted to reach out and save them like I wanted someone to save me. For the first time since my dream started, my body moved. I reached my hand out for this voice. I swear I felt them reach back.

~~~

“Fuck!” I woke up sitting straight up on the couch I fell asleep on. My hand was outstretched like I was reaching for… something? Someone. Who was I reaching for? 

My blanket and pillows had fallen to the floor which wasn’t a surprise to me. Even when I wasn’t having creepy ass weird ass dreams, I was still a wild sleeper. What the fuck was that dream about anyway? I liked to believe that all dreams mean something, but I didn’t understand that one. Or maybe I was too scared to want to understand it. I’d come back to it later.

Right now, I was more concerned with the man sitting in the library. He looked concerningly like the King of Hell.

“Hello… new child,” Crowley said in his british accent. He was casually sipping on some of Sam and Dean’s alcohol stash. I felt underdressed even though I was wearing the same shit since I got here. It wasn’t half bad, but I kinda wanted to meet Crowley looking like myself. Or at least with my own dressing style and not this cringe shit. He was one of my favorite characters after all.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, slowly placing my feet flat on the floor. 

“Not that long,” he shrugged.

I got up and walked toward him. I know he’s the King of Hell and all that jazz, but I really wanted to shake his hand. He didn’t look like he wanted to hurt me. He actually looked kind of curious.

I offered him my hand, “I’m Casey. Nice to meet the King of Hell face to face.”

Crowly smirked and shook my hand, “You know who I am and you think it’s nice to meet me. I’m surprised the Winchesters haven’t told you-”

“Get away from him!” Sam shouted as he practically slid into the room. It seemed like he rushed in here so fast he forgot to put a shirt on. He was only wearing his blue-patterned pajama pants. I looked at him with a ‘what the fuck’ face before turning back to Crowley. I know Sam was trying to look after me and shit, but he was not gonna make me walk away from the motherfucking King of Hell.

“I have so many questions if you don’t mind,” I told Crowley as I sat next to him. Sam let out a sound of protest, “What do the demon dogs look like? I know the whole thing is not seeing them, but I’ve always been curious. Also, what’s your favorite task to do as the King of Hell? Do you enjoy torture or do you only do it because you have to? Are other demons dumb cause how do they get killed by Sam and Dean so easily? Do you have wings-”

“You have to give me time to answer, you know,” I snapped my mouth closed, “For your first question… I could bring the demon dogs here if you’d like.”

“Yes!” I squealed.

“No!” yelled Sam.

Crowley brought out the summoning whistle from his jacket pocket. Sam looked like he was about to pass out, but he somehow managed to stay upright. I sorta forgot that Sam had trauma from the demon dogs. They killed his brother in what? Season 3?

I didn’t think Crowley was actually gonna go through with it, but he blew the whistle. I guess if the dogs don’t have orders to kill anyone, they won’t… hopefully.

“How can you tell when they’re here-”

I was cut off but something warm and wet wiping up my face. I let out a yelp of surprise before I realized it was most likely the dogs. I cautiously reached my arms out to feel for its body. My hands connected with soft fur. The dog or dogs - I felt multiple tongues licking at my face - were pretty big by the feel of it. Maybe the size of a pony? They were muscly as hell though.

“How many did you call?” I asked Crowley.

“Just one. They have multiple heads. You can ask Dean about that.” 

Sam gave the demon a glare for his assholish comment before he spoke up, “Why the hell are you here, Crowley?”

“Well,” Crowley looked back at me. I bet it looked like I was petting air, “I came here to see them.”

Sam was confused. I was confused. Why the hell did the King of Hell have business with me? Even though I had no idea what Crowley wanted with me and whether or not I was in danger, I kept petting the demon dog. I didn’t know when I was gonna have the opportunity to do this again.

“You’re not taking them,” Sam said, pulling an angel knife from his ass.

“I’m not taking them. Calm down, moose,” Crowley finally stood up from his chair, “I just wish to talk with them.”

“I don’t see why not,” I pipped in.

“He’s the fricken King of Hell!” Sam yelled like ruling the underworld was a crime.

“And?” I replied.

“And you're not talking to him!”

“Well, last time I checked, you weren’t the fucking boss of me, dude.” I stood up from petting the demon dog and gave Sam a glare. I was getting fed up with Sam telling me what to do. First, he told me he didn’t want me going on hunts, and now this? I hadn’t even known him for a full 24 hours!

“You’re a child, Casey! No!” 

“I’m not your fucking child, Sam, so buzz the fuck off!”

The demon dog started barking really loud after I said that. The air stilled. Crowley was smirking throughout Sam and I’s whole argument, but now his face was filled with genuine surprise. Sam looked scarily angry.

“You lied,” Sam stated. The angel knife that was once pointed at Crowley was now pointed at me, “You are some kind of monster.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I said, breathless. Fear shot up my spine.

“Your eyes… they turned red.”

AN: Crowley's one of my favorite characters and in later chapters sometimes he just comes back for not reason other than I like him. I know I do shit on Dean, but like, I still like him. He's just not my favorite out of the trio. And yes, superpowered OC. Gotta love it.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

tag ppl you want to know better game - tagged by @heffer-wen many many days ago! (i had so much fun reading your answers!)

last song: "shrike" by hozier. i liked this song fine when the album first came out, but 5 years later all of a sudden it's everything my brain needs to hear. something about how his voice sounds when it gets Loud--it's just filling all the spaces that are empty and expanding my lungs and i can breathe. yknow?

currently watching: nothing, sincerely. i've got a pandemic era frank interview queued up, but that requires actually staring at a video and paying attention, and i'm not very good at that. i mean i guess i've poked around a couple old youtube videos that are too incriminating to discuss. but!

in seriousness...i'm trash at watching anything most of the time. tv/movies were on a near-total ban in my house as a kid and i think i'm a product of this parenting choice (recommend!)

three ships: frank x mason, big gabi x willo, XHAKARTETA. hard to pick a favorite frank ship though...that could go in a lot of directions.

favorite color: Heff did i see hot pink and black? YES! my favorite colors are pink and black. runners-up: red and purple, though some reds and purples are better than others.

first ship: gosh...honestly, i think it was McLennon, hahah. that was the first ship i realized was a ship, though, because my friend introduced me to ff.n via that ship the summer after 8th grade. before that, i was informally shipping katarina witt with a whole bunch of people myself included. but yes, John & Paul. i didn't really have headcanons or anything though, i just read some stuff. the first ship where i was like I SHIP IT and went to read fanfic on LJ for it was *sigh* bellatrix/narcissa from harry potter. say what we will about JKR now, and i'm sure we all have, but some of the fanfic on livejournal went HARD. as a mere teenager, i was in awe of the adults writing all this stuff, and felt so privileged to lurk amongst them and occasionally comment. Would that fandoms were still like this!!!

place of birth: new york, ny in a hospital that's about to close. i was six days late because i was destined to be a sag and not a scorpio. i knew even then!

current location: just across the river and a little bit southeast.

relationship status: hardcore in my aromantic era. i used to be obsessed with love and having a special person and all that, but i don't know...the idea of having to have someone up in my business, entitled to knowledge about me, sharing a space with me all the time...it all just feels like a big NO these days. it actively makes my skin feel crawly. of course, life is designed for you to have a partner which is pretty frustrating. sincerely i'd rather just have a bunch of loving and interesting friends who all live near me. now, am i down for a hookup? sure, but the only part of me worth seeing is my head, so we move!

last movie: "encounter in the air," it's a movie directed by this albanian director whose stuff i love. he doesn't use music in his films, and films on location in/near his hometown in northern albania, and the...soundscape? is so rich and bountiful and gorgeous. you don't realize how noisy movies are till you watch one of these. (this was one of the very rare times when i watch something)

currently working on: reading my way through my library book pile, decluttering my leggings shelf, thinking of how i want to structure a potential fic about a ~75 year-old man having a drunk fuck with his son's wife (with motivations currently unknown to me--and what tone it should have? not my usual pedestrian tone, but how to do it differently? i do have some interesting sentences written down in the draft. i like the sight and then the memory of wet footprints on the hallway floor & mud from the football pitch and carelessly worn boots tracked through the house). also how i'd write some frank/anthony gordon england NT callup dubcon phone sex. now that was a whole serving of word salad. shit, imagine if i was writing TAA/szoboszlai or pedri/gavi.

tagging: @thatbrightblueshine @kvaradonaa @protect-daniel-james @medicalwastebouquet @thundercrack (answer on whichever of your blogs hahaha) and i KNOW i'm leaving people out so...YOU. if you want!!!! no pressure at all.

[aeide-thea]

tagged by @bill-blake-fans-anonymous :3

favorite color i’m allergic to single favorites bc really what i like is color palettes! like. hm. ochre and stormy blue-grey and mossy grey-green. neon chartreuse. highlighter yellow. marigold orange. really saturated electric or else cobalt blue. either Restful or Vivid depending on mood basically. (‘blue-bleak embers, ah my dear, / fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion...’)

currently reading oh god i’m technically in the middle of both a memory called empire AND john m. ford’s aspects still, probably i should finish at least one of those... also i was listening to a bit of the fellowship of the ring in the car the other day (thx, libby!), so i guess that belongs on the list too? (and then there’s the tbr pile from my last used-bookstore trip, which is like. märchen auf deutsch and medieval verse romances and a hopkins biography. but i can’t in good conscience count those as ‘currently’ reading, they’re in the wings at most.)

last song we truly went on a WHOLE musical journey while i was drafting this post, let me tell you. everything from early-00s french indie pop to david lang’s ‘just (after song of songs)’ (which is an incredible piece, for the record—feels like having yr brain carded). but just at the moment we’re up to patrick wolf, from the god’s own country soundtrack, which:

and i long to be carried on just once to be lifted strong out of the loneliness and the emptiness of the days

i mean. don’t we all.

last tv show this feels like cheating somehow but it was in fact last week’s episode of the great british bake off! which seems not-unrepresentative really: i like watching people do creative crafty things; i find food really conceptually interesting (flavors, textures, history, politics...); and i like how warmly collegial gbbo in particular usually is.

last movie oh god, something very quintessentially my dad... state of play (2009), our netflix history informs me. which was very much not high art but like. for the particular sort of thing it is (attempting to uncover a coverup, people are getting killed, you know the drill)‚ i’ve seen worse? russell crowe served p good ‘tired and jaded but still trying wearily despite himself to do the right thing,’ which—having put that into words, no wonder i didn’t hate it more, that’s geralt right there, lmao. different avatars of the same essential blorbo nature. :3

sweet/savory/spicy savory AND spicy! ugh now i’m thinking dreamily of laksa and also of the various spicy lamb noodle things at xi’an famous foods. spicysavorywithnoodles my beloved.

currently working on my sleep schedule, with—really not very much success, if we’re being honest. it’s gotten very fucked and it’s getting in the way of doing things i’d like to do and i feel like shit about it! but every new day is a new opportunity to chip away at things (zie says thru gritted teeth).

tagging god, i don’t know—@theunembarrassedalto, @mosspig​, @toads-revisited​, @klaproos, @proudheron​, and @e-b-reads​, maybe? but only if you feel like it. and as ever, anyone else who'd like to be!

[astronomical-bagel]

in the tags of a post you implied it was weird for older adults to reply with memes to a 19-year-old. the topic was not in any way romantic or sexual? they are meming abt current events? that's how you keep a generation isolated and scared, bereft of the experience usually passed from one person to another.

also creates the impression that older men are inherently threatening/dangerous etc and that - on a societal level - will disproportionately affect trans people and people of color

no no no, that's why i mentioned like "not in a creepy way or anything". i don't think there was anything nefarious in the minds of those adults and in their intentions in their memeing. I was not trying to hint as if those comments were pedophilic or sexual n any way.

It's just sad to me how all these adults were congratulating her on her sick burn on andrew tate instead of... idk.. being outraged that an adult man-- a human trafficker, no less-- was targeting her online? and the goonie-like congratulations "yeah, you get him! you're so cool, he never stood a chance!" kind of sayings. It's just... idk the emotions in my brain are kinda nebulous but it feels like they missed the point completely and just jumped on the bandwagon of sucking up to the latest cool kid on the block. Idk. There was a post talking about this that I saw yesterday, and all I can think of is this thing Greta said in 2019, "This is all wrong. I shouldn't be up here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean. Yet you all come to us young people for hope. How dare you! You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words."

And I just? The adults that were cheering her on were just missing the point. It shouldnt be normal for human traffickers to taunt nineteen year olds online -- it shouldnt be normal for those nineteen year olds to be responsible for the traffickers downfall! And all everyone can talk about is how cool Greta is! I just. I feel bad for her. No one seems to think about how shes an actual person and not a wendy's-twitter-account-style "epic sick burn generator". She's got all these people loving her conditionally, as long as she stays cool and trendy. She's my age, for goodness sake! What's gonna happen when she says something a bit off-color? Messes up a bit? They're gonna tear her to shreds! That guy who wanted to giver her a second Nobel Prize is gonna turn around and say "oh I always knew she was a bit fishy. Such a shame the younger generation is full of liars" and it's just! Its disgusting to me! I wish people didn't put people like Greta on such tall, unbalanced pedestals. She must be so stressed. Like, all the time, but especially now, with the sudden influx of attention again.

God, i kind of went on a rant, but yeah, i don't think those adults had any sexual intentions, but their replies still bug me. "Hey look, I'm on Greta's side, aren't I so cool and trendy." kind of vibes. Does she even know any of them? Personally, if at all? God. Goonies, the lot of them.

[nancywheeeler]

oooh director’s commentary! yes please! really i should just send you a ⭐️ because i’d love to hear about any details you’re proud of, but if you're so inclined i’ll admit to being especially curious about all the thoughts behind nightswimming, as it’s one of the fics that made my opinions on the steve/eddie ship do at least a 90 degree pivot if not a full 180

oooh nightswimming, my darling nightswimming!

okay so i mentioned this in my author's note, but nightswimming would not existed without there's a clock in my head (is it wrong? is it right?) by cloverspies 10/10 work of art highly recommend. before i read it, i had been poking around the steve/eddie ao3 tag trying to see what all of the fuss was about other than a new hot white boy just dropped and he could be paired with steve without the baggage of him being 1) his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend + someone who has kicked his ass or 2) a raging racist and abuser who has also kicked his ass.

but then i read cloverspies's fic and had my glass shattering moment. eddie and steve have so much potential for a very fun, banter-filled dynamic (i think certain things that drew steve to robin initially are very much there with eddie; unpopular in hs, not gonna worship at king steve's throne, throws him off his game, etc. and in a lot of ways someone like eddie is the natural progression from his misguided crush on robin. i'm not gonna if eddie was girl in canon but....but...) but then ALSO canon set up so many parallels between the two of them (and we'll just ignore that it's because they lowkey wanted the effect of steve's death without killing steve) that they would probably end up finding much more common ground than they initially thought they would, at least in terms of their experience with guilt re. barb and chrissy and their relationship with dustin / the kids. even totally divorced from a shipping lens, they would've made for a great friendship in S5

but anyway! nightswimming!

i’m racking my brain trying to remember how i came up with the (vague) plot. it might be as dumb as i was looking at this note i have in my notes app full of fic titles i want to use one day, saw nightswimming, and went “huh...eddie and steve talking by some pools.......this could be nothing”

i keep answering these with which part i wrote first, but it usually encapsulates the fic as a whole and what i was shooting for, so:

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Dude? You’re gonna call me dude while some of your spit is still in my mouth?”

Steve ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, trying to think of a comeback to that and coming up empty. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Huh, unbelievable, can I get a definition please?” After a brutal clearing of his throat, Eddie adopted the tone of a stuffy spelling bee moderator. “Something unlikely to be real.”

“Again, you failed English.”

Eddie held up his middle, ring, and pinkie fingers and mouthed, three times.

the last line i’m 99.9% sure was the very first thing in the google doc. before even the title. i could imagine joe quinn acting out that exact mannerism and how annoyed but endeared steve would be by it. eddie is very over the top in a way a guy like steve wouldn’t necessarily let himself be but i think that’s where the attraction starts coming in on steve’s side. when you’re with someone who is so open and doesn’t seem to care about looking stupid, it’s easier to let yourself relax and be more open too, you know?

meanwhile on eddie’s side, steve is really hot! lol but also he cares about everyone so damn much, and he’s equal parts surprising and predictable (a common steve harrington theme in my works apparently), and again, he is really hot on a surface level and a much deeper one. still water, baby.

i think ultimately i just love them both as characters and i love what they could bring out in each other and i just vomited all that in a word document (...and then continued doing so...and cannot stop...)

director’s commentary asks!

[assortedbirds]

14/01/24: Log 3- Static Pulse

Coming at you....way too late at night! I should be asleep! However, I was deeply focusing on some much-needed Static Pulse work and I want to share it before I go to bed (no matter how heavy my eyes are right now).

So today I decided to tackle the behemoth, the thing about this story that I have been trying to figure out for years but could never make any progress with, the big question...."what the fuck does Wren's house look like?".

Now, in terms of aesthetics and functionality this was very easy to answer. Dalia was an obscenely rich woman and her decor perfectly reflects that uber-wealthy minimalist "how does anyone even live here it doesn't feel homey at all" aesthetic. Additionally, I have an extensive idea of how many rooms the house has and what they are for. For example, I can tell you that it is a one story home with high ceilings, it used to have two guest bedrooms only for one of them to later be converted into a medical office, or that it has a very extensive library room. However, there has always been one pretty big issue preventing me from drawing up a floor plan....I am really not an architect. As much as it is normal to not be great at an artistic field that is not your own, I cannot emphasise enough that I really suck ass at this. Complete and utter ass. Every sketch I had made over the past 7 years, regardless of whether or not I used reference material, was a disproportionate mess that felt impossible to sustain life (I would share an example here, but it is far too late for me to go diving through old sketchbooks, please just take my word on this)

Now, I could probably very easily search up "1 story, 4 bedroom, free to use mansion plans" and just use that as the structure, but with that comes an additional problem. I may not be an architect but if there is one thing that I AM....it is picky, and once I have a vision I will not rest until I feel that it is fulfilled. Those pre existing blueprints were not cutting it, the vibes were all wrong for what I wanted the house to be. Though they provided a good reference, there was no other option for me than to kick myself back into drawing a floor plan from scratch. So this morning I sat down, put up some references and got to work.

My original plan was to see if I could make the process easier by using a floor plan software (which I will discuss later ✨) but this proved to be even more intimidating somehow, so Procreate it was. I realised quite quickly that it is not something that comes naturally for me to translate my ideas for scenes and backdrops into a map-able space, so my brain oscillated between feeling like either overheating PC fans or like it was on fire for most of the process. However, I persisted, and after a few hours I had a wildly disproportional but workable plan for the house!

Once this was finished, I was able to import it to use as a base and began building the floor plan in Homestyler! I feel very lucky, as I only remembered this site's existence due to perusing 8 year old posts on my "art reference" tag (Tumblr's tagging system coming in clutch once again ✊) and, though finicky to use at times, it is proving to be extremely useful! As I went along adding the walls and rooms, the process morphed from being painful to actually being pretty fun! Adding furniture (and eventually re-proportioning the rooms as a lot of them are too-large) will be a long and arduous process, but I am quite happy with what I have achieved so far!

I will share the full map and some more images once I have finalised the design, but I would like to end off by sharing a render of one of the more furnished areas: the library. Anyone who has seen me draw Wren has probably seen art of him sitting in a chair and looking out the window, so may I present to you...Wren's Sulking Corner:

You can also see Dalia's room looming in the background....that kinda works thematically....

Isn't the rendering cool?! Fun fact: those shelves were empty and I had to add in the books myself. It was pretty fun but very time consuming and I have roughly 8 more shelves to fill so....pray for me.

That's it for today's log! If you have read this far....thank you I love you mwah mwah!

-Billie

[kypossumlady]

My brain is really loud lately. I want to put it all down but it’s overwhelming.

I feel overwhelmed in general though. I’m worried about paying bills, even though I know it’ll work out somehow.

Feeling really let down about the foster thing. It’s a realistic reason but I still feel a lil heartbroken over it. Part of me thinks I’m feeling it extra hard because I’m transferring my massive amounts of affection that I just have. I still don’t think we should have the wedding. We can’t afford it. I stopped making the effort to do the things because it felt like nothing was moving forward.

It doesn’t seem fair to complain that I want more affection. It’s a record on repeat in an empty lobby. It’s hard to say I’m lacking when I’m in the best relationship of my life with someone who truly wants me and loves me. Sometimes I just wish he could feel how much I love and how intense it is. Maybe then he’d understand why I’m always so needy. And it’s not really even needy always. It’s like a regular human amount. I miss the intensity of everything and how he never got enough of me. He says he still feels the same. But idk. I don’t feel it.

Also super annoying to not be able to just get all of my feelings out without getting a response of frustration back. Like I tip toe around mentioning my trauma or whatever because I hear “I’m not Cody” yeah but that’s not how my body works. It’s just doing it.

I’m really missing my friends a lot. I feel like we’re all so far apart now. It truly breaks my heart. I don’t want to always be the one to reach out. Alisha and I are no closer now than me and my current coworkers. She said I hurt her feelings when I didn’t call her back on my birthday. She waited until 8:45p to try to call and I told her I couldn’t call back because I wasn’t have a good brain night (cue me wailing at Tony that he isn’t attracted to me anymore). It was so selfish. I was really hurt. We talked about it but it just feels like a poorly filled pot hole.

Tony was really hurt that I said he’s an amazing partner but because of how my brain works, I still do more. But I do. Example: today- I got up, fed/watered the turkeys, fed the cats, went back to sleep a bit, got up and got ready for work, drove 5 mins to work, came home on lunch, let the animals out of the barn, moved the geese to the other turkey pen, went inside, started lunch for us, gathered some stuff for work, started a load of laundry, sat down and ate lunch, back to work, came home at 5, unpacked my box, scooped litter boxes, changed, went outside and filmed a bunch of videos for the tok, helped Tony on the turkey pen, fed the animals (with him), came inside, we tag teamed dinner, switched the laundry, vacuumed upstairs, switched laundry, took a bath, picked up around the kitchen, made my water, cleaned off the bed/general pick up, and now I’m laying down. Tony is amazing and does everything a partner should, but I was trying to relay I’m doing more somehow. It isnt me keeping score but it’s a way of keeping myself responsible. Idk if it makes sense. I don’t even care about that. I just want some goddamn kissing.

One of the last times we had intense sex I was ungodly horny. Like literally clawing to have sex and he was just so not ready. It was a big shatter.

Sometimes I just feel like a lot.

[belongtothewcrld]

Just wanted to say a few words about those who made my year ~ (SORRY THIS IS LONG) 

@idiot-juice-enthusiast​ - My sweet baby, where do I begin? I treasure you so much, I know I tease you a lot. BUT I am soo happy you decided to leave me an ask, despite you know, my stupidity. You are so funny and just, idk, BRIGHT. Maybe it’s because you’re still young or maybe it’s because you’re just a ball of light, idk. EITHER WAY. I am so thankful to have you in my life. When my friends slowly started leaving me in RL you were the first one who started to fill that void so like.... tHANKS. Happy New Year, my child! Love you!! 

@haikyuufairy - My shooting star, oh gosh. You not only have made my year by being my friend but by blessing me with stories that really shake up my whole existence LMAO. You are incredibly talented, and I just wish the best for you. You deserve so much happiness and success. You’re a beautiful soul inside and out, and the whole world should know it! I want you to know that I really do mean everything I’m saying, because you deserve to be showered in love and compliments. and as long as you keep me around, I will remind you of your worth. >:) I love you, and happy new year! 

@toikiwi​ - you peanut head, what should I even say to you. >:) You are very forgetful, funny and sweet. For some weird reason though you chose to care about me so deeply and for what??? I AM HORRIBLE. do I deserve your affection? probably not. BUT DO I APPRECIATE IT? yes. I never had a friend like you, and I’m really glad we met. ;-; you’re one of a kind. Love you and happy new year! 

@alluringeternity​ - my bestiee. we went from you sending me asks, to watching movies on zoom like I think that’s a whole ass victory. despite our time differences, we make this friendship work and I think that’s sexy ;) I really love talking with you, I know you once thought I’d get bored of you BUT HAHA BITCH IT NEVER HAPPENED. you’re stuck with me forever. I can’t wait until we meet up so then I can cling to you for all eternity. :D MWAHAH love you and it’s not the new year anymore for you so like happy Jan 2nd or something idk LOVE YOU 

@suna-r1n​ - lilyyy, my little duckie, my crybaby friend. I adore you, truly. I’ve never gotten so attached to someone so quickly until you LMAO. I mean I always loved when you would send me random messages but then we ended up talking much more frequently and honestly it was everything. You are so sweet and just... squishy. I’m really glad we became friends and started talking more, because you really are someone I cherish and want to protect >:) so be safe this new years eve, little shit! I love you.  

@4fterh0urs​ - Pheebz you crazy ass ho. JK. You’re just crazy ;) But I respect it. You have made me laugh so many times from the shit you post idk you’re just cool, I GUESS!? You’re also v moral I FEEL? sometimes when everyone else is silent about shit that’s fucked you’re not and I really respect you for it. I feel like we’re similar in weird ways and I really love talking with you. I hope you have a great new years eve, bbs!! love youu. 

@chaichai-the-weeb​ - my fellow Canadian!! I’m still pressed we haven’t met in RL yet but IT WILL HAPPEN!! I’m really glad I ended up messaging you when you left tumblr awhile ago, because now I feel like we’ve become such good friends. ;-; You and I don’t have the best track record with friends but HEY at least now we have each other? It’s amazing though how quickly we went from strangers to good friends LMAO our personalities really work. <3 I know you’re spending today watching anime lol so ENJOY IT. I love you and happy new years! 

@haikyuusimp91​ - my law school buddy ;-; You not only support the fuck out of my stories but you are an amazing friend. anytime I have law school worries you’re always there for me and I love it so much. I appreciate all you do, even if I don’t say it enough! you put up with me and my psycho ass and honestly idk how you do it BUT I’M GLAD YOU DO. I really hope this year treats you better because you fucking deserve it all. I love you a lot, missy ;-; Sometimes I feel like you’re the older sister I never had - BUT LIKE DON’T BE WEIRDED OUT OK DFGHJKL love YOU BYE (AND HAPPY NEW YEAR) 

@aquariarose​ - my little bodyguard. I have never met anyone with a heart like yours. gold. you are fucking GOLD. at first when we didn’t talk much, I would love whenever you talked about my stories with me. because you always seemed so happy about them and it would make my whole day!! I love talking with you daily and hearing about your life, because honestly girl you living in a shoujo manga LMAO. GO GET YOUR MAN OKAYYYYY hahah I love you sm!! I hope you have a great new years! 

@bloody-bella - BELLA OH BELLAAAA, MY SWEET BELLAAAA. hi. :D can I start off by saying you have a cute af voice? like excuse? okay back to the point, YOU. your support is why I was able to finish my stories TRUST ME. your little cute comments and asks, it gave me the courage to * write * LOL. I’m so glad that you joined my among us game and started talking with me more ;-; because I really do wanna get to know you more!! I feel like we may lowkey be twinsies in odd ways ;) BUT I hope you have a lovely new years eve my love!! <3 

@yourstarvic - vic the hoe ho. somehow you went from this funny girl with a CRINGE ass UN to one of my good friends?? Your support for my stories has always meant so much to me. I’m always looking forward to hearing your thoughts and listening to you scream about shit LOL. I’m glad we started talking more, because I love your company. Even when you’re telling me something weird af or being horny for NO ASS REASON. You’re a weird one but I love ya. Have a happy new year! 

@nerdyphantomlady​​ - my angel of music! you are sucha joy. I adore you so much. I’m really glad that I started talking with you more because you’re sO DAMN CUTE. talking with you melts my heart because you’re just this small ADORABLE BEAN WHO I LOVE. I know you don’t understand iT BUT I AM RIGHT. I know you’re worried about your test coming up but I know 2021 is gonna be your year! MWAH. I love you and happy new year! 

@pha2nt0m​​ - gOSH I just need to tell you that you were the reason I was able to finish “let’s do it again” your support means the world to me!! you’re so damn sweet and supportive like idk what I would have done without you??? so thank you so much. I really hope this new year brings you happiness, success and good health!! <33

@newfriendjen​​​ - Jen, I love you WHAT THE HECK. You were one of my first followers, in the early days ;-; and you supported me with your whole heart and I CAN NEVER SAY THANK YOU ENOUGH. The thing that I love about you is that you’re not one of those cocky asshole writers who think they’re god’s DFGHJ like you are kind, supportive of others and talented? like SHIT??? you deserve everything because you are the whole package!! you are honestly the ideal - AAAH. I love this new year brings you love and happiness!! <3 

@sugawarabby​​​​ - my lovely, we’ve spoken only a handful of times but each time meant a lot to me! you’re a true delight and I really wish you the best for the next year. I know 2020 wasn’t the best for you but you deserve a happy, love-filled 2021. MWAH. <3

@vicassa​​​ - my love, you and your support to my stories is unmatched. I know you think that spamming me would bother me but it never did! I loved talking with you and hearing about your days. when you’re less busy, come talk with me again, hm? Because I loved talking with you. You’re a sweet sweet little bean and I adore you so very much. ;-; But happy new year!! 

@hyskoa1998​​ - hi my love. our schedules rarely match up but I always loved reading your reactions and talking with you ;-; I hope we can talk more this year because I really do wanna be your friend IF YOU WILL HAVE ME. But happy new year! I hope it’s an amazing one. 

@tsukkismamagucci​​​ - your comments on every single smau - GOLD. everything you post is just so funny or accurate!! everytime your name popped up in my notifications I would be so excited!! or whenever you sent me asks my heart would make some weird ass noises. ;-; so thank you for being so wonderful. I love you and happy new year!! 

@kara-grayson04​​ - one of my first friends on here, and a whole ass little fighter! Thank you for supporting me in my early days on my writing account and for spamming me with funny stuff! you’re someone with a bright future ahead of you and I really wish you the best for 2021! 

@chibishae34​​​ - MY OIKAWA PROTECTION SQUAD BUDDY. I have told you this before but again, you are too good for this world and me. I can’t believe you’ve been here since my first smau and it took me so long to start talking with ya. :( that’s my regret for the year. I wish we started talking sooner because you’re sucha joy. thank you for being the amazing person you are though, your support and friendship mean so much to me. I hope you have an amazing 2021. MWAH. 

@chocolaterumble​​ - you’re not even on tumblr anymore eh? BUT when you see this, know that I appreciated everything you did for me and our conversations. you’re a kind idiot who really needs to develop a backbone. :)) I say that in the nicest way possible :* Just know 2021 is YOUR year, so make it your bitch. you can have the whole world if you try putting your effort into things that matter. just learn to believe in yourself, aLRIGHT? because you’re fucking awesome. 

@dope-squish​​​​ - one, wHERE THE HECK ARE YOU? I hope you’re okay and safe. ;-; I miss you. it’s not the same without youuu. who else will make my day with funny reactions and memes? but for when you do read this, thank you for being...you. You are so unique, funny and just talented. idk. you’re spectacular like spiderman. thank you for being my friend and supporting me. I hope the new year treats you well. <3 love ya! 

@swoonhui​​​ - my silly love! thank you for supporting me through it all and trusting me with your troubles. I always love seeing messages from you or asks, because you really are wonderful and likeee I WANT TO PROTECT. haha. I hope you’re having a safe and happy new years eve, missy!! Stay happy. I love you. 

@astronomyturtle​​ - shout out for being one of my first supporters and for being a full on badass!! hahaha. no but really. you are amazing, and I really want to thank you for everything. you supported my shit stories and my good ones, and that really means so much. I hope you have a great new years!! 

@dreamstormings​​ - hellooo, I just wanted to thank you for your support. it means sosososo much to me. and regarding the stuff we talked about recently, everything you said just demonstrates what a wonderful person you are. thank you for ... existing >:) and happy new year! <3 

@rajablast​​ - hii, I just wanted to thank you for always sending me kind and sweet asks ;-; it really means a lot to me. I hope you have an amazing new years eve or new years day!! <3 

@elianetsantana​ - hii. ;-; I know we only started talking recently but it made me really happy so pls don’t be weirded out by me adding you here. <3 I hope in the new year we can talk moree! because you seem super lovely. ;-; 

[1101001]

THE GIRL WHO FLEW DOWN THE STAIRS _

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‘ the story of akashi meeting you and all the events after that made him realize he was falling for you ’

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character .. akashi seijuurou

word count .. 1.3k

tags .. fem!reader who is energetic but also thoughtful and likes to learn (as requested) , lowkey pining? , s h o g i , written from akashi pov , requested by the lovely bean anon <3 

Akashi’s first impression of you wasn’t anything bad. It wasn’t exactly good either. It was certainly memorable though. ‘The girl who flew down the stairs, knocking him onto the ground, and landing on top of him with a thump’ is how he remembers you. 

The moment was almost cliche. If your eyes had met and lingered on each other, both aware of the position you were in but not moving away, then it possibly would’ve been a scene straight out of some cheesy romance novel. 

Instead, you seemingly bounced straight up upon impact, not even bothering to spare Akashi a second glance. You proceeded to give him a quick apology, running down the next flight of stairs immediately after.

It was definitely one of the odder interactions Akashi had with his fellow students at Rakuzan High, but it amused him nonetheless and made him notice you much more often around campus. Even though you weren’t in any apparent rush anymore, you still radiated this energy that was all bubbly and seemingly ready to burst. 

It brought a small smile on his face every time he saw you, bouncing along hallways without a care in the world, chattering away with your friends. Sure you seemed like the typical happy-go-lucky person, but Akashi couldn’t help but see you as a bit more unique.

Your second interaction with Akashi was an interesting one too, in Akashi’s opinion at least. 

The basketball team had just won a tournament the other day, so Akashi was free this afternoon. He had decided to go challenge some shogi club members to a few games. 

In the middle of one of those games, you walked into the club room.

Akashi didn’t think you were part of the club, and his suspicions were confirmed when another member of the club went to ask if you needed anything. Akashi was definitely not eavesdropping, no he was paying attention to his game (the one he knew he would easily win anyway) when you pulled out an envelope and he happened to overhear you telling the club member that someone asked to meet you. 

Nobody in the room came forward to claim they were the one who sent the letter though. 

After a few awkward, silent moments, you moved to take a seat with some of the other club members. It was an action that surprised Akashi. He figured you would’ve just left because the whole did seem like a waste of time. However, you just sat there asking some club members to teach you how to play. 

Akashi could sense genuine curiosity in you and, needless to say, it intrigued him. It seems like there’s more to the “girl made of energy” than he originally thought.

The clock ticked, and a few rounds later, Akashi decided it was time to head home. Saying his formal goodbyes, he walked out of the clubroom. 

He didn’t expect you to come running after him, almost slamming into him again in the process. 

“You shouldn’t run around school so much, you know. You could end up bumping into people and maybe even hurting them.” The words left Akashi’s lips sounding a lot more teasing and flirtatious than he intended.

You blushed and started rambling out apologies. ‘Cute’ Akashi thought. 

His brain froze. 

Wait. Cute? How-

“Anyway um.. you left your notebook back there…” you said, holding out what was indeed his notebook out towards him.

“Oh…” was all he could say. He rarely forgot his things, especially things as important as his notebook. It seems his mind must’ve been too distracted by... other things. “Thank you L/n-san.”

He saw a slight shock on your face. “You know my name?” 

His brain froze yet again. How was he supposed to answer this question without seeming like a stalker?

“Well yes…” he started before you cut him.

“Didn’t expect the Akashi Seijuurou to know my name.”

He scoffed at that. “I think I’d know the name of the girl who jumped down the stairs and knocked me to the ground.”

“Again, I’m really sorry about that…” you said with a smile, although Akashi could see the guilt that lingered behind your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly said. “I was just…”

He was just what? Flirting? Was he actually flirting? Him. Akashi Seijuurou. Flirting??

“…you know,” he finished quietly.

You didn’t say anything in response but instead looked at him with a peculiar sort of gaze. 

“Um.. hate to make things awkward by asking this but… were you the one who sent me this?” You held up the envelope Akashi saw earlier.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh… okay then.” Was it just Akashi’s imagination or did he hear a sliver of disappointment in your tone? “I suppose you don’t know who it is either right?”

He shook his head.

A lot of thoughts rushed through his mind. Did you actually expect him to send you a love letter? Did you hope it was him? 

He sensed you were about to leave though, so before he could regret it, he asked you, “Why do you want to know who sent it anyway?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the question.

“I understand the curiosity and wanting to know who it is but… if they didn’t show up, why are you still waiting?” He clarified.

“Akashi-san, you’ve never confessed to someone have you?”

He gave a slight nod.

“Well, I don’t see why you’d need to,” you mumbled more to yourself than him. Clearing your throat, you continued, “The thing is, confessing takes a lot of courage. And writing this letter asking me to meet them here would’ve taken a whole lot of that courage already. I think that, if they were able to go that far, then I should at least hear them out right?”

That… surprised Akashi. 

“But then again, there’s always a possibility this is just a prank,” you added as an afterthought. 

Unsure of what to say, he just nodded. “It is possible, considering how long you had to wait.”

You smiled, “The wait was fine though. I had fun learning shogi.” 

You actually had fun learning how to play? Looking back, it did seem like you were enjoying yourself… 

It’s strange. Akashi realized just how much his view of you changed in one afternoon. Earlier, you were that bubbly, energetic girl bouncing through the halls. Now, you were this thoughtful and kind person who liked to learn. You also said you had fun playing shogi, which nearly made Akashi’s heart skip a beat.

Oh. 

Oh.

He gets it now. The reason his brain was acting all slow was you. With that thought, everything became clearer. 

Now he wishes that love letter really was a prank.

“Ah Akashi-san, I think I have to go home soon,” you said, holding up your phone. “You’re heading out too right? Wanna walk with me?”

He blinked in surprise but quickly agreed.

“Great, just let me get my things first-” And with that you rushed back into the club room.

Akashi stood staring at the empty hallway, still caught up in his thoughts and trying to process what just happened between you two just a few seconds ago.

When you came back out with your things, he couldn’t help but smile softly. The two of you fell into conversation easily, and by the time you walked out of the school gates, you were still in a talk that showed no signs of nearing an end.

He wanted to continue walking and talking like this, but there was a car and a driver waiting for him in the exact opposite direction of where you were headed.

“Well, goodbye then L/n-san,” he said, hoping the reluctance wasn’t obvious.

You smiled in response. “Goodbye Akashi-san. It was nice talking to you.”

With that the two of you went your separate ways. Throughout the car ride home, Akashi could think of nothing but you. It would seem… he has taken quite the liking to you.

He isn’t sure what’ll happen next, but he’s looking forward to seeing you again and hopefully, talking more with you too.

. . .

note .. THIS CAME OUT LONGER THAN ORIGINALLY INTENDED but anyway i actually enjoyed writing this,,, yk all the stuff potentially going thru akashi’s mind when he has a crush intrigues me and uhh i hope u guys liked this and if u do PLS LMK WHAT U THINK !! it would legit mean the world if u guys did <3

[palimpsessed]

Hey. You post a lot of great stuff about Carry On. Can you talk about the biting in AWTWB. The Baz/Simon scenes.Trying to wrap my head around it to understand why Simon did that. Why he bites Baz and keeps biting. Bites his fangs through his cheek. Is it because Simon wants to be bitten? That he wants Baz so much and Baz can't be harmed? I'm really trying to understand it but . . . what do you think?

Anon, thank you for this ask, and also for liking whatever I'm doing on my blog.

Can I talk about the biting? You bet I can!

Why does Simon bite Baz? Is it because he wants to be bitten? In a word, yes! But of course, there's a lot more to it than that. And this went off in another direction than I thought it would, so I hope you can stick with me on this journey! Under the cut because it’s a bit long.

There is a motif running throughout the trilogy of love being a consuming force. So much of Simon and Baz's identities are tied up in hunger very early on: Baz, as a vampire, constantly craving blood; Simon, as the Humdrum, constantly sucking up magic; both of them starved of love and intimacy. There's also a lot of fire imagery, going all the way back to when they first met, and fire is another consuming force.

Simon and Baz are obsessed with each other. The only thing they think about is each other. ("Trying not to think about you…S'like trying not to think about an elephant that's standing on my chest.") They are consumed and they want to consume, and, at least in Simon's case, they want to be consumed.

In WS, Simon reflects on misunderstanding his feelings for Baz prior to eighth year, and the way he does it has always stuck out to me: "I thought about him all the time. I missed him so much in the summer. (I thought I was just lonely. I thought I was hungry. I thought I was bored.)" The second item on that list is what catches my attention. Simon missed Baz and he thought he was hungry. I think it says a lot about how Simon's love for Baz feels if he mistakes it for actual hunger.

In the biting scene you mentioned, Simon says to Baz: "If it were me, if I were you…I'd drain you fuckin' dry, Baz, and it still wouldn't be enough." That's intense. And it's absolutely Simon. We know how much hunger he's capable of; his hunger was so potent, it became a whole other being! I've long maintained that his hunger for magic is a metaphor for his hunger for love. Because Simon is so full of love, and just utterly bereft of people to give it to, and once he has people to love, he doesn't know how to do it without also hurting them. He's never had good relationship modeling. (He thinks Baz should know he loves him because of how many things he's killed for him.—He thinks about teaching Baz how to break someone's neck like it's a fun couples' activity.—He gets turned on by killing things and watching Baz kill, too.—Date night is helping Baz hunt down rats.) Simon is a mess. He wants to love so badly, but he just doesn't know how to do it. ("Is this what people do?")

Simon loves Baz so much, he can't fathom ever getting enough of him. Ever being able to consume enough of him. He can't stop biting and smelling and grabbing because he wants more, more, more. He fits his teeth over Baz's old scars because he needs to claim him—make his own mark on Baz, possess him.

Part of this, as you said, is the fact that Baz is a vampire. Baz can take the roughness (which is not to say that he should just because he can). Simon's fixation on Baz's vampirism, which used to play out as paranoia, has changed into a desire to be bitten. Simon is thinking about Baz's vampirism, thinking about draining Baz dry if he were the vampire, and Baz, the human.

The other part of this is that Simon is unfettered, but really only in the aggressive, physical sense. He's long hidden his desires behind aggression without realizing that's what he was doing. (In CO: "I just want to run him down and knock him over and figure it all out." In AWTWB: "I wanted to jump on you, I didn't really think past that.") He doesn't know how to be unfettered in the vulnerable, emotional sense, and that's what keeps him from being able to be intimate with Baz. ("I don't know how, Baz…To get enough.")

Simon desperately wants to have sex with Baz. Which is what he's trying to do in the biting scene, but all of his desires are warring for control, and he can't sort out what he wants, and what he should be doing in that moment, with Baz.

What this is all leading me to may be a bit off topic, but I think it's all tied up in Simon's head.

Simon doesn't know how to be gentle.

His hunger and his desire for Baz have never been gentle. It's aggression, it's violence, it's possession; it's a forest fire, it's not a hidden waterfall.

Simon has never learned how to be at peace. In a recent interview with Vanity Fair, Rainbow said she made Simon "fight of flight"—literally, he has wings! There's a reason that Simon couldn't handle the inaction at the beginning of CO and before the events of WS. There's a reason that Penelope thought that they were "being lulled" because there was no war actively being waged. There's a reason Penelope tells us in WS: "Lesson learned: Relaxation is the most insidious humdrum." These are characters who are so traumatized by childhoods being foot soldiers in a war waged by the adults they trusted, they don't know how to live without fighting! They don't know how to live in peace.

We all have "I can touch you less gently, but I won't love you less kindly" burned into our eyeballs by now, but let's move earlier in that conversation to what sparks this: "What if I asked you to be less kind to me?" —What if I asked you to be less kind to me?— Simon doesn't feel comfortable with Baz's kindness or gentleness, because it "makes me feel like I'm being turned inside out. Like I need to get away." Let's sit with this for a bit. Baz's loving touches make Simon want to run because they're kind and gentle and he doesn't know what to do with kind and gentle. His mind isn't programmed for kind and gentle.

It makes complete sense that Simon would show Baz affection in a way that Simon understands, considering, as I said before, that he hasn't had anyone in his life to show him a healthy way to do this. What does Simon most want from Baz? Love. What does Simon understand love to be? Consumption. He wants roughness and aggression, he wants the inferno, because these are things he understands.

Simon wants Baz's teeth, so he gives Baz his teeth.

This is how Simon feels comfortable. I made this post while processing my feelings about AWTWB. It talks about Simon trying to love Baz the way he wants to be loved, and Baz trying to love Simon the way he wants to be loved. They want to give each other everything, but they haven't actually communicated their needs to one another, and that's what keeps them from being able to work through their problems. It isn't until they voice their needs that they're able to be intimate. This is what I'm really trying to get at here.

"Is this what people do?" Simon asks, over and over again. When Simon was in therapy, he learned a technique to break up "life into bites you can swallow". He tells us he's doing this again in AWTWB "because [the future] is too terrifying. Too uncertain. There are parts of it that are too bright." —There are parts of it that are too bright.— Simon doesn't know how to be happy. He doesn't know how to cope with happiness. "Is this what people do when they're in love? Do they just keep touching and talking? And then what? Like what is it all leading to? I don't mean sex, I mean… If I knew what I meant, it wouldn't be so frightening." When Simon is having all these overwhelming feelings about his future with Baz, they're on the Tube, and Simon sees a guy giving him and Baz "a dirty look". He interrupts his introspective on therapy to tell us that he wants the guy to cause trouble "because I would dearly love to punch something right now. That's a decision I could wrap my brain around." He can wrap his brain around punching someone, but not around a bright future with the man he loves.

Simon doesn't know how to be at peace. He doesn't know how to be in love. He doesn't know how to be happy. I think this is what we're seeing at play when he bites Baz. He wants something so badly, but he doesn't know what it is, can't articulate it, can't get at it. In a way, when he bites Baz, Simon is trying to ask for what he wants, without words, and without really knowing what it is that he does want.

He can't figure out how to let himself be happy and feel good while being happy. He can't stand gentleness, or softness. In his head, he can't give that to Baz, because he can't handle it himself.

So, yes, Simon bites Baz because he wants to be bitten. And he bites Baz because he knows Baz can handle it. And he bites Baz because there's an emptiness inside of him that he's still trying to fill, and he doesn't understand how to do that. Someday, he will fill it. He and Baz are going to figure that out together.

I hope this makes sense. With your indulgence, Anon, I'm going to tag in @theflyingpeach who is all around brilliant, and I know has their own thoughts about this scene (and demon Simon 👀👀👀) that I would like to see more of. 🥰

A follow up to this ask can be found here.

Further reading on the relationship between consumption, food, and love compiled here.

[dilfdoctordoom]

On Tom Taylor, the Current Nightwing Run & Ableism

I did mention I was gonna do a post about it, so here we are. There are some things I want to make clear before we begin: the issue exploded on Twitter on the very first day of disabled Pride month; disabled people have been discussing the ableism in Taylor’s Nightwing run since it began; nobody has blamed Taylor for what happened to Barbara in 2011. We are, however, blaming him for the way she is written in his series during 2021. 

I am also going to be discussing the ableism in the fandom in this post. The reactions I have seen, from here to Twitter to TikTok, are showing not only a great misunderstanding of the situation, but a purposeful misunderstanding. The very real reasons disabled people are angry right now have been twisted to make us seem ridiculous and overly sensitive and I cannot help but feel that is very intentional.

Another quick addition: disabled people are not a monolith. Barbara Gordon spent over 20 years as a paralyzed wheelchair user. Stating (and I would like to note, never truly showing) that she is a part time cane user now is still erasing her disability. These things are not interchangeable.

So, with that out of the way, let’s begin.

Tom Taylor’s run is ableist. That is a fact of this situation. He made the active choice to include a version of Barbara Gordon that is ableist caricature. Story wise, the role that Barbara plays could have easily been filled by anyone else. There is no real season, within the narrative and outside of it, for Taylor to include this version of Barbara Gordon, who has received a decade of criticism from disabled people. It’s very well known that this iteration is problematic, to put it kindly, and Taylor is aware of that. 

He made the active decision to include her, anyway, showing, at the very least, that he is passively, if not actively, ableist. Passive ableism is still ableism and disabled people are allowed to take issue with that.

That alone is reason enough for disabled people to be angry. But that’s not why things exploded on Twitter.

On July 1st, the very first day of disabled pride month, the new design for Barbara was dropped. After months of teasing Barbara’s return to a wheelchair using Oracle (see: Last Days of The DC Universe, Batgirl (2016), etc), they debuted... a new Batgirl costume that the artist has openly said draws inspiration from the Burnside suit.

There’s a lot of issues to unpack here, so let’s start small: the issue with consciously calling back to Burnside. The Burnside era of Batgirl stories was... beyond awful. The villain of the series’ first arc, was an AI based on Barbara’s brain patterns when she was disabled. It was evil because of all the rage and pain Barbara felt. The actual Barbara, on the other hand, was good -- because she was able bodied. Because her PTSD had been tossed aside. It was a horrifically ableist era that drove the idea that Barbara’s life was terrible when she was disabled; that it was some horrible, twisted secret.

Comics have kept that narrative going. Barbara is seen hiding books on chronic pain; she reacts aggressively to the mere idea that she could be in a wheelchair again, acting like it would be weakness. Whereas Barbara had once been Oracle not because of, but in spite of, her disability, who was fantastic representation for the disabled community, she now acts like it is the most shameful thing in her life.

To call back to Burnside is to call back to that ableism and make no critique of it. If anything, it’s to embrace the ideas of that era.

There is also the design itself to consider. Many people have pointed out the inclusion of a back brace, as if that saves it from ableism -- it does not. Any person who has ever worn a back brace can take one look at this design and know that they did not consult a disabled person. Hell, by how impractical that thing is, I doubt they even Googled a picture of a back brace.

It’s a superficial acknowledgement that Barbara is supposed to be disabled. Something that was apparently thrown in to appease the numerous complaints of Barbara being able bodied; something that no one working on it put any effort into.

When it comes to aids, this is not a new thing for Barbara in Infinite Frontier. She’s said to be using a cane occasionally, that we got a better look at in Batman: Urban Legends, and as any cane user can tell you... that is not a cane that could feasibly be used. It’s another pathetic attempt to acknowledge that Barbara is supposed to be disabled, without actually doing anything of importance.

[IMAGE ID:  A segmented cane with a tri-pointed handle with a wrist strap. There is a stripe across the sections to connection them, labelled “solar battery charger buttons”. The text reads: “telescoping antenna doubles as cane or weapon if needed”. END ID]

Dropping this design (which we have now established to be problematic) on the very first day of disabled pride month is a sickening move. The very first day, and DC has doubled down on their disability erasure, thrown in superficial things like a back brace to act like it’s fine.

Tom Taylor is definitely involved in this, whether you like it not. No, he is not in anyway responsible for the events of the New 52 and what they did to Barbara Gordon, but that does not absolve him of blame for what is currently being done to her in his run.

When the design dropped, it started trending due to disabled fans reactions. To be clear: we were directly calling out the ableism in this design. This was Tom Taylor’s response:

[IMAGE ID: A tweet from TomTaylorMade that says: “Hey, @Bruna_Redono_F I think our new Batgirl suit is getting some attention.” He then adds a winky face emoji and tags @jesswchen and @drinkpinkkink. Attached are a screenshot showing that Batgirl is trending in the United States and a picture of the design itself. END ID]

This is him, bragging about how the disabled community reacted. Perhaps before this tweet, you could’ve made an argument that he was not ableist, but after he flaunted the fact that disabled people were rightly furious over this, like it was something to be proud of? No. If you are defending him, you are a part of the problem.

Taylor has included ableist writing in his Nightwing run, beyond the inherent ableism that comes with the current iteration of Barbara Gordon (whose inclusion, yet again, is his decision).

[IMAGE ID: A panel from Nightwing #79. Barbara and Dick are standing in his apartment. Barbara is saying: “I have some pretty new technology holding my spine together. I’m happy to do most things -- eat pizza in the park, take down low-level thugs -- but leaping from rooftops seems... unwise.” END ID]

What Barbara says in the panel above has bothered a lot of disabled people. The implication that she couldn’t “eat pizza in the park’ and “take down low-level thugs” without a spinal implant that conveniently erases her disability is... fucked up, to put it mildly. Those are both things that Barbara has done in a wheelchair. The first one is something wheelchair users can do and the implication that it’s not is beyond offensive.

But, let’s leave Barbara behind for a moment. I have previously mentioned that disabled people have been discussing the ableism present in this run long before July -- and that ableism is not only centred on Barbara. Dick is also a player in all this.

Dick Grayson was shot in the head. I don’t believe I need to retread the story, but just in case: Dick was shot in the head by KGBeast, developed amnesia from the event, and went by Ric Grayson for a long enough period in comics. If you have been active within the DC fandom for the past year or so, you know all about this controversial storyline and its fallout.

The Ric Grayson arc concluded itself the issue before Taylor became the writer for the series and ever since his tenure has begun, Taylor has completely ignored the reality of Dick being a disabled man. We understand this is comics, that things do not function the way they do in our world, but still -- it is clear that this gunshot wound to the head has affected Dick massively. We had an entire arc dedicated to how he struggled to find himself in the aftermath.

Taylor is choosing to write Dick as an able-bodied man, despite his canonical injuries and how they would impact his life.

This man is choosing to give empty gestures towards Barbara being a disabled woman (as discussed above, the completely dysfunctional back brace, etc) whilst writing her as able-bodied as possible. He writes both Dick and Barbara as able bodied as humanly possible. That is ableist. He is ableist. This is the same man that said he made a dog disabled ‘in honour of Barbara’. I do not think I need to elaborate on why that is bad.

The least he could’ve done, was get a sensitivity reader. We know that Taylor is not beyond getting people from marginalized communities to consult on his work (see: Suicide Squad), so why, when writing two characters that should be disabled, one that the disabled community have been criticising for a decade, does he not reach out to a single disabled person? A mere Google search could’ve improved the situation massively. In both the new design and the current writing, it is beyond clear that this is not just an able-bodied person writing it -- it’s an ableist person.

He could have listened to the numerous disabled fans that spoke out. Instead, he chose not only to refuse to do that, but to describe justifiable anger as ‘raging’. He treated us like we were crazy for daring to speak out about blatant ableism being parading around of us in our pride month.

Tom Taylor has failed to do the bare minimum and in doing so, he is, at very, very least, guilty of complicity. Again: passive ableism is still ableism.

The argument at hand is not just about Barbara Gordon and the continuing ableism that shines out from her current writing. The argument is about the treatment of disabled characters in his run. It has also become about the way he treats physically disabled people.

We also can’t have this conversation without acknowledging the fandom’s role in it all. I waited a day to write this up, to allow all the reactions to flood in... and I am sickened.

We have everything across the board. Able-bodied people that have actually listened to disabled people, who have supported us (which is deeply appreciated). Able-bodied people who may have had good intentions, but a skewed sense of the situation and perpetuating some of the more insidious lies being spread around (IE. that this is only about the new costume).

There are, obviously, the ableist reactions, though, that we will be discussing here. People deeming the current issues as ‘crazy’, calling disabled people ‘overly sensitive’ and ‘delusional’. Many people have completely glossed over the examples given for why Taylor, specifically, is ableist, and instead have resorted to telling disabled people that we are wrong and should be mad at DC instead.

It’s important to note that Tom Taylor is an adult man. He doesn’t need a fandom to attack disabled people for daring to call him out. He is not the victim in this situation; he has, for quite a few disabled people, been the aggressor.

I have seen claims that Infinite Frontier is a ‘slow burn’, implying that disabled people need to patient... as if we have not waited a decade for less ableist writing. There is a complete refusal from able-bodied fans to actually listen to what disabled people are saying. They would much rather rush to the defence of the (honestly rather mediocre) current Nightwing run. 

Disabled fans know that comic book spaces are ableist. We know that both DC and Marvel and many of their writers are ableist. We are still allowed to be pissed as hell about it and acting like the current reaction being had right now is disabled people being ‘overdramatic’ is yet another example of how the able-bodied side of the fandom both refuses to listen to and undermine disabled people when we call out ableism.

We know it when we see it. We always do and we always will and we will always be able to recognize it far faster than an able-bodied person. If this many disabled fans are coming out and talking about an issue, calling it ableism, then it’s time for you shut up and listen.

Stop being a part of the problem and start supporting disabled fans for once.