#and i essentially wrote it for myself anyway

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

"floral blessings" ; a braindump from yours truly because this card is absofuckinglutely my most favorite xavier card on the face of the planet and i am. going. to talk about it <3

like with all my 5* card "analyses" (but also more like a wordvomit really 😭) this will contain spoilers for: (a) this card itself, (b) the lightseeker myth, (c) the lumiere myth, (d) anecdotes, main story, and world underneath !

[ this is also very long............ you have been warned 🤲 ]

first of all...... MY GOD...... FHSNNFBSJFJSJFK YELLING SCREAMING THROWING UP IM NEVER GETTING OVER THE KINDLED CARD FOR THIS BECAUSE. BECAUSE HELLOOOO??? HELLOOOO???

anyway..................

timeline-wise, the card pretty much implies a very solid relationship between the two, so while i don't know where i'd place it between 21 days and no restraint, it's definitely still after 21 days! but with that said, rather than more focus on their individual development like in no restraint, this one seems to focus more on their relationship as a whole, i think?

overall this braindump won't be as organized as what i wrote for no restraint (i think...) because my brain is still so completely absolutely mush over this card, but i needed to write SOMETHING or i'd explode to smithereens 😭 so nevertheless...!!!! i'll section off a couple scenes so if you want an outline, it'd be something like:

[1] general setup (an overview of parallels); [2] "reunion" (parallels and relationship development); [3] xavier's forwardness (the courtyard meetings, lessons, giving of the mask); [4] day of the festival; [5] the wish

but bear with me;;; there is SO MUCH that goes on here, and i really wish i had the patience and coherency to point out every little thing because holy shit 😭

firstly though, and i just found this really cool, but apparently the flower goddess festival is (was) an actual thing!

from what i've found (and correct me in i'm wrong) it's apparently a very ancient festival that's not widely celebrated these days, so it's not super popular or well-known, but it has many names such as: "Flower Goddess Festival (花神节 huāshén jié)" "Hundred Flowers’ Birthday (百花生日 bǎihuā shēngrì)" and "Flower Goddess’ Birthday (花神生日 huāshén shēngrì)" !!! i couldn't find much information about it though, but it seems that what was in the card such as the flower cakes and the dance really were actually part of the festival~ and i've also seen people say that xavier and mc's outfits feel to be from the tang dynasty, which a lot of people speculate is the time period that this festival originated!

BUT, MOVING ON...

i. general setup — an overview of parallels

i think honestly what's most interesting to me here is how much the overall card mirrors xavier's lightseeker myth so incredibly well. with all of xavier's cards, and how he's grown as a person and how their relationship has developed overall... so much of all of that ties to who he was as a lightseeker, to who he was as the prince of philos. in fact, it goes without saying that lumiere's myth story itself is so bound to the lightseeker myth. because, and i've said this so often and repeat myself a lot with it, lumiere is a direct reflection of the princely persona xavier has grown up with. that the reason he's always been so averse to who he becomes as lumiere is because he essentially channels prince xavier, someone who he's never thought to be truly him, someone who he's been wanting to push aside and no longer be. (i talk about it in my lumiere myth braindumps and touch on it in my no restraint braindump!)

and there's something about that reflection that transfers here, too, because there are two things that all three situations have in common: (1) a position of importance, and (2) a duty to do or fulfil something.

of the prince of philos and heir to the throne, of lumiere as the strongest hunter expected to protect the citizens, of the young master—usually the son of a wealthy family, however, in this case xavier claims he was "adopted" due to his calligraphy skills—with the task of seeing the festival through and teaching the flower goddesses calligraphy.

yet, at the same time, there's something different about the way xavier assumes this role of the "young master":

he's able to say no.

the role is lighter, likely because it's not a true role and, like mc as a flower goddess, he knows that it's temporary—but the way that their first meeting in the courtyard can remind you so much of prince xavier is almost jarring.

it's reminiscent of the very first time mc sees him with his bodyguards, in our most favorite anecdote "when shooting stars fall":

"They aren't clad in all black as one would expect, and they keep a respectable distance away from Xavier. Still, these people exude an air of oppression. Xavier, with his bag, is at the center of their group. It seems he's used to being stared at. The only difference is that rather than being his usual expressionless self, he appears slightly upset."

lt's reminiscent of that time they staged a spar, only for the royal messenger and his guards to interrupt it:

"The royal decree he brought today was related to the future of Philos ... Xavier was taken away by the Royal Messenger. Our duel ended with no clear winner, and the crowd quickly left."

and you can see how his progression grows, from prince xavier, to lumiere, to this role he plays as the young master—if as the prince of philos he had no choice but to follow the path laid out for him until he had enough of it, as lumiere he was more free to choose who he saved and when he saved them. now, as the young master, he's able to say no, sir, something urgent came up. he's able to say right now, i have something that i want to do first.

which, also interestingly, but in the more 'passive' role he played as part of the special task force, he wasn't quite one to say "no" either—though he kept a low and nonchalant profile, he's never outright refuted anyone, even if he might disagree, such as the party gathering or whatnot.

(also, slight segue, but it's notable that he's likely grown into a habit of a little selfishness due to what appears to be some kind of aversion to "serving the people". i do talk a little bit about that here—but it's the fact that (a) all he really cares about is mc, and (b) he likely still doesn't want to fall back into his patterns as prince xavier where he felt chained to think of the people more than the woman he loves. it does bring a little bit of question to his morality, but we know that mc has very much been something like his moral compass throughout.)

but, more than just the ability to say what he thinks and say no to certain things he doesn't put as a priority... he also feels light enough to goof around a little. dozing off/doodling during class, cheekily vying for mc's attention without concern about showing "favor"... something about xavier in this little persona he's taken on is an air of confidence. this was a kind of confidence you didn't see from him as the prince, as lumiere, even as the task force member. and it's not the confidence in his abilities, which has always been there—

it's the confidence in himself.

it takes a certain level of sureness to be able to do things on your own terms, or to be able to voice the fact that you want to.

i believe that throughout the parallels strewn throughout this card with how the setup is, it's this confidence that shines through and really makes things different.

because this time, xavier is different.

he's growing as a person.

ii. the "reunion"

this part of the card had me gasping out loud, i kid you not 😭😭😭 because the parallels really the fuck parallel in here 😭

"The Chen residence is far away. And I can't exactly leave as I'm one of the Flower Goddesses. So, I had to let Xavier investigate himself."

"He said he'd be back after four days. Why isn't he here ... Worried, I sit on the grass and gaze at the night sky. I'm barely in the mood to appreciate the fragrant blooms above."

first of all, the setting very much feels like the meteor shower scenario in "when shooting stars fall", but also...

"Xavier would always leave me like this. At times he joined the expedition team. Other times he was returning to the palace with the Royal Messenger. I'd always ask when he could return. He always returned within the timeframe given to me.Before the Prince entered the Forest, everyone was praying for his safety. At that time, Xavier whispered into my ear... 'Seven days.'"

"He's always lied, again and again and again and again. He said hope would follow when spring arrived. He said he'd take me to the new planet he discovered.He said he didn't want to be King but also refused to let me stand by another's side. He said he'd return when I miss him. He said when I become the Queen of Philos, he'd be my knight. The song he made up is now a reality. Yet as thousands cheer my name, he abandons me... At that moment, a spaceship soars across the sky like a shooting star, disappearing into the night. My footsteps echo in this empty room. No one will be by my side. My star has left me. And this time... he will not return home."

everyone's favorite scene from the lightseeker myth.

while at the same time...

"For some reason, seeing Xavier quietly admiring the nebula, I suddenly feel a wave of panic and instinctively reach out to grab his hand."

^ that's from "shining traces", but only one out of the many examples wherein mc feels as it xavier is someone she could lose at any second—not particularly because she doesn't trust him, but because there's a nagging feeling in her chest that they could be separated for longer than either of them would have hoped to be. after all, it's happened before already, she just doesn't know it. but whatever it was that happened in her previous lives, i've no doubt that the anxiety from back then had likely transferred over anyway.

and this is what this reunion feels like.

a sense of discomfort around his absence, that nagging "what if" he doesn't come back.

but it doesn't stop there—

because xavier does return, albeit very tired-looking (again i'd call this reminiscent of That Moment in "when shooting stars fall" where he brings her the protocore in hopes to keep her from dying).

and more than that, he explains. again, like what happened in the no restraint card, he explains. he doesn't keep things vague on purpose, or makes it seem like he's hiding something from her. he explains, and he takes the initiative to, if only to soothe her worries.

to soothe her worries.

that's an important point.

(and also on a side note:)

HDJJAJDJSJ I HAD TO AND THIS IS A DIRECT PARALLEL TO "No matter how many times it takes, no matter where you are... I will find you." BY THE WAY

anyway......!!!!!!!!! again, it doesn't stop there.

because this scene and this conversation also directly talk about home.

and this conversation means a lot more to xavier than, i think, generally one would realize. mostly because—and i remember kay making a really good point about it here—xavier has gone through a lot to get to where we see him now, and so much of change that he's had to get used to... time traveling so far only to get stuck? the different lifetimes he and the backtrackers would have had to witness this whole entire time?

like i mentioned, our brain's natural instinct is to strive for stability—you can even see it in what we know from our high school biology lessons a la homeostasis. yet, what xavier went through, what the backtrackers went through, is one hell of a shock of a change. it's the kind of change that needs processing, but isn't easy to process, and especially not quickly. and xavier had little to no one to lean on for support, to lean on to guide him through it. the result of which being that, as established even in his earlier cards... change isn't something he likes.

and as also established in world underneath, we know he just simply wants a neat little mundane life with mc.

keyword: with mc.

he doesn't really know what home is, because he has a distorted perception of it—the xavier now, in this moment, still recalls his home planet, the life he has ties to, back in philos. but as he is now, his home is in linkon. and then it comes to the conclusion that the answer is, really truly, neither.

his home is with her.

he says it, this time, explicitly.

it's his declaration that it's okay if things change, as long as he has her—as long as she remains the constant. then change is something he can deal with.

yet, even as he reveals all this to her, the conversation starts with him asking her. the conversation starts about her. and it's she who's able to give the opening back to him, by touching on things like change and belongingness.

"Even in a place this strange, you'll feel like you don't belong. No matter how long you stay ... Am I wrong? l'm sure many people feel safer in a place they're familiar with."

mc isn't a stranger to change, either—she's had a lot of it in her life, specifically the life she lives now as a hunter. the chronorift catastrophe, her family... it's not as if she doesn't know how jarring change can be, and she expresses that here—having to "start again" in a place she's unfamiliar with... it's not easy, and it's easy to feel out of place.

humans are social creatures. we were made to be social, we were made to interact with others. but from that need and that inherent desire (because no matter how small, it's always going to be there) stems the need to belong. a human emotional need to affiliate with and be accepted by members of a group.

this is something that is so prominent in mc that it is a place of solace for her to feel like she belongs somewhere. but this sense of belongingness is something that xavier has NOT experienced for a long, long time. it's only something he's been learning to experience again with her, and the people that surround them in this life that want nothing but the best for them both.

it goes back:

his home is wherever she is.

and i think that it's beautiful that, after hearing xavier's side, mc then chooses to agree with it:

"Maybe... the sense of belonging I have is like yours."

if his home is wherever she is, then her home is with him.

ALSO— while we're talking about this scene... the little banter they have with the flower cake?????? AND THE FACT THAT HE KISSES HER?!!?!?!?! JUST LIKE THAT!!!???!?!?!?!?!! (if you can't tell, i yelled about it)

AND THIS SCENE;?!

—"His eyes are a little red, maybe because of how exhausted he's been lately. Even his blinking has slowed down ... 'I'm a little tired. Can I lie down for a bit?'"

—"Before I can answer, Xavier rests his head on my lap."

DIRECTLY plays out the mutual reliance they have on one another for comfort and rest, because it parallels that line in lightseeking ovsession that we're all familiar with:

"You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me."

i think that as much as they have been growing in to their own persons, they're both so closely intertwined, and so much of their love for each other really just pours out all the time.

iii. xavier's forwardness

granted, one thing that's interesting in this is that they do start out pretty tame. there's a little bit of a vague area concerning their relationship at the start of the card, especially since mc seems back into her old habits of starting something and not following through—or otherwise, unintentionally starting something, and then shying away afterwards. she does get noticeably flustered, but she pushes the fluster away... almost as if old habits die hard.

...but xavier, on the other hand, is more consistently bold with whatever he's doing.

there's no hesitation on his part at all, even.

in fact, xavier is the one who initiates most of these things, and doesn't shy away from it. his cheekiness really shines through—he's the one who kisses her suddenly (and for all the other kisses he initiates in the card); he's the one who fixes her clothes, her hair; he's the one playing around while teaching her calligraphy; he's the one who's so eager and unbothered about showing off their relationship:

—"Did we need to hide? Or can the Young Master not chat with a Flower Goddess?"

—"It was going to be awkward... And I heard one of the hosts of this ceremony is the mansion's owner. Since you're an organizer and the Young Master, it wouldn't look good if I was biased, right?"

—He touches the small of my back, which makes me stand up straight. "But you always have special place in my heart."

and:

"Well, I guess everyone knows now. Does this mean I can officially play favorites?"

like he's actually being SUCH a menace i had to pause and take a deep breath

but he's very consistently bold, and it, again, goes back to the confidence that he's gained in himself. he seems a little less of the uncertain, almost shy ish xavier who didn't quite know how to make proper advances... this time, he knows mc is comfortable with his advances, and he gets to play around with that. they're comfortable around each other, to this point that he can be a little more free with his words and his actions.

and eventually, we see mc beginning to reciprocate that again—especially during the festival itself, and in the kindled moments.

which brings me to...

iv. the festival day

i'd specifically talk about, here, the moment before the dance and during the dance.

because it's alao the exact moment that we see mc begin to actually reciprocate and throw back her own advancements—it's the exact moment we have a confirmation that she loves him, that she adores him, that he means so so so so much to her.

and on the day of the festival, we go back to what i highlighted earlier:

he soothes her worries.

the first instance we see this is their little "reunion" that we talked about—it's his very presence, and his added explanation, that calms her down in that moment.

and now is not so different:

—"The most important part of the ceremony, the Flower Goddess Dance, is about to begin. I glance again at the crowd. 'Where will you be during the dance?'"

—"Xavier gently takes my hand that's holding the petal. 'That flower from the roadside will wilt if you keep touching it.'"

—"'I'm just a little nervous.'"

—"'Scared of dancing, hunter? Actually, I got you a gift ... It was meant to be a surprise. But since you're feeling nervous, I figured I should tell you."

—"'That works. Now, my focus has shifted to the excitement about your gift.'"

(which, another side note, but "Scared of dancing, hunter?" had me GASPING because???? the way he teases her in this?! it's so unabashedly him without holding anything back, no coyness about it but he's being a cheeky little shit 😭 i adore him...)

a few things to note here is that out of context, it does feel like a little bit of an awkward way to be comforting someone—yet, it works extremely well. what xavier does here is not provide reassuring sugarcoated words like "it's going to be okay", he distracts her from the problem instead by giving her something to look forward to. which, in this case, is the gift.

interestingly, in a way the 'distracting' is also reminiscent of something he does when he tries to hide something from her—cutting the conversation short when she asks about lumiere, in the lumiere myth asking her to go check on the 'wanderer' so as not to let her see what he had to inject from the ship...

in his lightseeker myth, they talk briefly about his fight with the king, and the possibility of him no longer taking the throne. this conversation proves vague and a little bit one-sided, and in the end he pushes forward the idea of eloping to uluru almost as if to avoid further discussion about the fight itself.

but this time, that's not particularly where he stops: he addresses her question as well, just to find a fallback, an extra little bit of reassurance.

—"'See that tree over there? I'll be standing under it.'"

—"I follow Xavier's gaze. Nearby is a tree covered in red silk ribbons and wooden plaques by the bridge. 'So if I mess up the dance, you'll see everything, huh?'"

—"'I promise I'll forget about them after a good sleep.' His gaze remains on my face, appearing indifferent. Yet I sense a passion about to overflow. 'The only thing l'll remember today is your beauty.'"

FIRST OF ALL. "The only thing I'll remember today is your beauty." A BEAUTIFUL FUCKING LINE, BY THE WAY. IT GAVE ME LITERAL BUTTERFLIES I HAD TO PAUSE FOR A MOMENT. (1) more proof that in the end she's really all he cares about, (2) he's being unabashedly bold with his words again—no filter moment, but zero hesitation, (3) "i sense a passion about to overflow"? he's not being coy about this either, he's saying what he truly feels. he's opening up and expressing himself more, expressing his love for her more, and being genuine about it!

but also, in terms of additional comfort, it's a widely known tactic in states of panic to ground yourself by using your senses to register something familiar: you see something familiar to you, hear something familiar to you, touch something familiar to you, smell something familiar to you. such as, the ground beneath your feet. the air around you, the vague sound of chattering around you, maybe even the touch of your bag, or the fabric of your clothing, the window you know has always been there, etc. panic brings about a sense of derealization, and grounding yourself is usually the first step to calming down.

what xavier is doing now is offering the knowledge to her that he will be there. that she knows exactly where to look for him if she needs to during the dance. she has the opportunity to ground herself with his presence whenever she needs to.

(and again, it's a direct reflection of that line: "You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me.")

and it's exactly what she does.

though she ends up enjoying the dance and the crowd does block her direct view of the tree during the dance itself, she takes comfort in the fact that she knows he's there.

she trusts him; she doesn't need to see him to know that he'd there.

and then she thinks something beautiful:

"Engrossed in the dance's rhythm, my mind is strangely at peace. After all, I know there's someone in the crowd whose eyes are only on me."

once again, it goes back—his presence offers her comfort.

the first thing she does once she's received all the flowers is run to him, and he waits for her gladly. like he's always waited for her, like he always will wait for her.

"A lot of people wanted to give you flowers. I couldn't get past them, so I decided to wait for you here. Seems they're quite fond of you, just like me."

a note: the peach blossom

i figured this deserved a section on its own actually, particularly because the whole theme is this whole "flower goddess" thing... and in the beginning, we see mentions of the "goddess of daffodils" and the "goddess of peonies".

yet, we never really truly find out what mc's potentially assigned flower was—

the only mention of a flower that we do see, directly related to her, is when the little kid compliments her hair and places a peach blossom into her basket.

and while i wouldn't know if this means it's her flower or not, but the specific mention of the peach blossom is adorable, because in chinese floriography, the peach blossom represents love.

it's used in a lot of chinese literature and often associated with the arrival of spring—which, "according to the rites of zhou, the middle of spring is a period when men and women fall in love freely." therefore, a lot of chinese literature and poems also allude peach blossoms to romance, being that spring does as well. but, it's also associated with beauty: "after the wei and jin dynasties, beauties were portrayed in a more detailed way with words like taohua mian (peach-blossom-like face) or tao sai (peach-blossom-like cheek)." and there are other things it represents too, like prosperity, growth, and longevity.

when xavier gives mc the hairpin at the end, mc describes it as "pretty and adorned with pink flowers as if they are on a branch", and while not explicitly stated, i do believe that they are also peach blossoms.

whether or not that's the case, and whether or not the peach blossom was mc's flower (or maybe that it's just generally part of the festival), i think it's a really cute detail! i think it perfectly represents their growing relationship, and essentially the beauty with which xavier always sees her~

BUT, MOVING ON.....

v. the wish

the final stretch boils down to this.

"A gentle breeze stirs the wooden plaques hanging from the branches. A faint, melodic sound dances in the air. 'They say a Flower Goddess can bless people's wishes. And if the person making the wish is someone she favors, it's more likely to come true.'"

it's where the kindled moment falls, as xavier proposes for them to make a wish together.

and, mind you, this whole entire scene is ADORABLE AND LIVES RENT FREE IN MY HEAD ... the playfulness between their words, the "if i tell you my wish, it won't come true", the way xavier CARRIES HER??? AND THE WAY HE CATCHES HER WHEN SHE FALLS AND PINS HER AGAINST THE TREE AND AND AND AND.

everytime i think of it i end up keysmashing in my head IT'S JUST SO CUTE i could burn it into my head 😭😭😭😭

but, AHEM, he also says...

"Throughout history, humanity has always made the same wishes. Perhaps it's because those feelings we have... are timeless."

i think it's a really pretty line, but more than how pretty it is, i think it represents xavier perfectly.

xavier has lived long enough, and he's likely also made similar wishes along the way. for mc to be safe, for mc to be happy... things along those lines. and for him to describe that as "timeless" also represents his love for her—because it is timeless. he loves her more than anything else in the world. it transcends space, and time, and anything else; to him, she is love. she is timeless.

it's worth noting that everytime xavier and mc get scenes where they wish together, xavier never really says what his wishes are.

in "when shooting stars fall", mc wishes for many things. for xavier's freedom and happiness, for her to be healthy, for time to stop in their moment together... for xavier's freedom, xavier's happiness, and, in her final moments—"i wish to meet you in my next life." but he's never said explicitly what he wished for at all.

in "warm wishes", mc also mentions a lot of wishes:

"I wished I could pass all my tests with flying colors and go to a good university. I wished for Grandma to be healthy. I wished for my neighbor's cat to come home..."

and her actual wish that night was:

"l wish.... everyone can have snowflakes fall on their shoulders when they're lonely, and see the stars when they're lost."

yet that night, xavier didn't make a wish. he explicitly stated:

"l didn't make a wish. I want to save my wish for when I need it the most. Plus, everything I want right now has come true."

...but this time is different.

he did make a wish.

and, this time around, he specified what it is.

"I wish I can be your sanctuary until the end of time, in your eyes."

this is a wish that's important to him. he chooses to make this wish, and he chooses to tell her about it.

there's a lot to dissect in just one statement alone, because it's so imbued into the xavier that's loved her for thousands of years.... the xavier that has grown and developed into who he is in this moment.

a sanctuary is a place of refuge and protection; a place of safety. a place of comfort. a place of rest.

and multiple times throughout this card, it highlights how xavier has been able to offer mc a certain sense of comfort. even right when the results are announced, one look at him calms her down—this part really got me.

"I glance nervously at Xavier. He makes eye contact with me, and his gaze conveys a steadfast reassurance."

it's a recurring theme in the card—comfort. peace. the peace that you can find in someone. the safety that you can find in someone. in this case, mc with xavier, and vice versa.

...and i've always associated xavier with comfort, but peace and safety have been attributes i've been hesitant to associate with him, because it's different. for you to feel safe with someone, for you to feel at peace with someone, they need to communicate, as well, a certain sense of steadfast reassurance. xavier has always been soft and comfortable, but he hasn't always exuded that steadfast type of aura.

i think that this is something that he himself realizes.

i've mentioned it before, but his wish is also a direct parallel to That Line from lightseeking obsession.

"You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me."

yet there's also a striking difference.

what is different?

the person that he's developed into.

prince xavier, lightseeker xavier—as i mentioned earlier, there's a certain kind of confidence in himself that isn't present, and it shows. i would argue that he was at his most vulnerable that time, likely more vulnerable than when they first landed on earth, because he didn't know how to treat his relationships at all. he was too bound by the confines of what everyone, and i mean everyone, including mc at the time, wanted him to be. there was never clear communication with anyone, and it mostly seems as if he's been going through the motions—as opposed to more freedom that he's been granted on earth.

and it shows, because, that line in lightseeking obsession—does not exude confidence.

it's a comforting statement, sure...

but it's not even something that mc herself believes.

"you always lie."

it's as if xavier, as much as he's trying to comfort mc, is trying to reassure himself, too—he tries too hard to make himself appear reassuring to her that it falls short, all this on top of the times that she feels she's been let down by him.

it's ironic, almost. he says such a bold declaration despite knowing that there's a chance he wouldn't be able to keep it.

but this is different.

this time, xavier has grown to he sure of who he is and who he wants.

he said it in 21 days—"every version of me belongs to you, and only you."

yet despite the confidence that he now has in himself, notice how different this is to lightseeker's line—

he's wishing.

and he specifies that he wants it to be true in her eyes.

it's as if he's saying, i'm not sure if this is what you think about me, but i do know that i want it to be what you think about me.

he's not reassuring her; he's not making a bold declaration. he's not saying, you will think of me as a sanctuary. neither is he saying, i will be your sanctuary.

he's saying, i want to be your sanctuary.

the final decision falls to her.

the confidence lies in stating what he wants, and there's no fear in it—there's no hesitation, nothing that implies that he's scared to say it. he's confident in what he says, and either confident that she'll accept it, or confident that no matter what her choice is in the matter it's okay.

that's why this wish is so strong.

and it's mc who then says, at the end;

"I wanted to tell you that your wishes will always come true."

because she reciprocates.

and this whole moment, everything that happens from hereon—the results, the hairpin...

—"'If you meet a Flower Goddess you like, give her fresh flowers. It's a local custom here. But there are many people who admire you, and all of them have given you flowers. My flower wouldn't be special enough. So, I made a flower hairpin. This is the first time I made one, though. Don't judge it too harshly.'"

—"Xavier's hand is warm. Like petals being carried on the wind, his smile descends and touches my heart. 'What makes you say that? It's amazing. Besides, even if you just gave me flowers, they'd be the most special ones l've ever received.'"

it's worth noting that the scene where xavier gives the hairpin is also very much the same way he makes the wish. he does admit that he doesn't know if she'd appreciate flowers—but he takes it a step forward. he knows he wants to be extra special, he knows he wants her to have something she'll remember, so he does something different. he makes, and gives her, a flower hairpin. of his own accord.

it doesn't stop at his insecurities, which he still has—he takes those insecurities and spins them into something he can be sure of himself.

and there it is again.

the steadfast reassurance.

and it's what makes the moment so much more memorable to mc, so much more meaningful.

and it's why, then, he can say things like this:

"No matter what happens, I'm always blessed to have someone by my side, who makes my gaze never feel alone."

"Forever is but a collection of moments strung together. With every minute comes another, second after second. When I open my eyes again, I want you to still be by my side."

it's in a way wherein xavier is able to take some lead in their relationship, because he's more sure of himself this time. and it progresses their relationship in a way that it wouldn't have if he never learned—he's learning. he's growing. and he's really truly turning out to be someone that can love with his whole heart, without holding back.

i think this card showcases that the most, and maybe that's why i love it so much <3

ALSO, P.S., ONE MORE PARALLEL—

xavier says that the flowers are blooming beautifully this season—"it smells like spring". in his lightseeker myth, he says: "With spring's arrival, hope is soon to follow."

and its just a neat lil thing, i think <3 spring is always so closely associated with xavier, and the card really does end on such a light and hopeful note.

[poolsidepanic]

Realised I never did share the original moodboard I made for Ceramic Hearts, so here it is :)

[goldkirk]

as I'm going back over my past history and items and journals and years, I come across all sorts of things, like the pencil I saved from that so-precious memory from second grade, and a pair of flip flops I've been missing for two years, and [checks notes] the modern-high-school-AU-kidnapped-by-a-serial-killer story I wrote in late high school jdfsjdfsjkjlksfd

[altruistic-meme]

WIP friday, i guess. let's go!!!

here have some food. i am truly trying my hand out at some heavy hurt/comfort. we shall see if i ever finish and publish it

[themagical1sa]

🫂

How you feeling?

Hi hug anon. I was sleepy when I got this ask, so I went to sleep first (not to mention it was midnight at the time).

Every day gets better. It's never easy, and I'm sure there are consequences to what I didn't get to do, but it gets better, slowly but surely — at least, that's what I believe.

[almalvo]

About An Official Spiderverse Artist...

Please do not just scroll past this post; read it.

If you guys follow me on twitter, you probably already know.

But if you dont or still want to read this anyway - here you go:

I aint big, but I got a growing platform that I see as important for me to use as a force for things that matter.

So here I am.

And I got something to say about a certain "artist".

There are so many fucked up people who call themselves artists who are so heavily worshipped by us who both get and or dont get outed in the world for things they do and for their general piss-poor behaviours and persons.

Im here to talk about one in particular (and certainly wont be the last).

There is an artist that basically EVERYONE here has seen art from before, printed in the official Sony artbooks too.

If you have seen this:

Then you have seen this artist before.

His name is Alberto Mielgo. He goes by @/pinkman_himself on twitter.

He is a HUGE part of the art direction and stylisation of the spiderverse movies, if that isnt already obvious. Because he was the former original art director of Into The Spiderverse.

Yes. Former.

Cuz he got "mYsTeRiOuSlY fiReD" from Sony 2 years into pre-production and completely removed from the project.

You may have also seen this character before:

Yes. THAT asian character from Netflix's Love Death + Robots, from the episode "The Witness".

Familiar? Yeah. Because this episode was also made by the same guy, Mielgo.

I aint going to talk about what happens in that episode and hesitate to encourage anyone to watch it - cuz all it basically is is a megalo-misogynistic, assault "glorified for the sake of aRtT", racially fetishised showcase of this crazy makeup/haired bdsm stereotyped asian girl sex worker who essentially gets murdered over and over and over after running for her life completely naked through the city for all of us to see for some fucking reason.

BUt yeah anyways, you can see it in the first pic, but Ill put it here to show more clearly - this here is NOT the character from LDR. But I can understand why you might think so:

Yeah. You read that name in the bottom right corner correctly. This is Peni Parker. His concept art of Peni Parker. A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD. Lookin suspiciously like and dressed as the adult person from LDR with ALSO the crazy hair, make up - WITH AN O-RING CHOKER AND BALL-GAG LIPSTICK (BDSM).

13. year. old. child.

This man only sees east asian women this way.

He likes them crazy, sexy, broken--

and young.

Cuz this man also wrote this on a now-deleted post on his website:

Yeah. He, this whole ass middle-aged white cishet male spaniard thirstin for kids since he was 18 for 12 year old girls.

Cuz 12 year old girls are a fuckin "KNOCK OUT" when they grow up, when they ripen up into adulthood, to this man Alberto Mielgo, aka @/pinkman_himself, this creature.

And if auctioning NFTs isnt bad enough (cuz yes, ofc he does that too - its literally the first option on his website) -

His entire fucking portfolio is of drawing women he had sex with.

His fucking PROFESSIONAL PORTFOLIO is all of painting and drawing women in very compromising, questionable ways of the VERY SAME WOMEN HE HAD SLEPT WITH THROUGH HIS LIFE.

They look as creepy as they are.

But the scariest part?

While I myself had only just found out about this some days ago as of writing this, some of us have known about this man and his antics for years.

And he keeps getting greenlit by the industry, over and over and over; winning awards, getting respected, praised, admired, even by fellow at-home artists like many of you out there if you dont already do so.

And nothing will happen to him cuz he is a white cishet male artist who has money and a following and connections and influence and power.

So yeah.

I just wanted to talk about a certain official Spiderverse artist to just let yall know there are freaks everywhere, and that no matter how small it is, it's people like me and you who need to do what we can to keep up awareness and warn our communities and protect our most vulnerable.

My suggestion is to take heed of what I said, ask questions about everything you will ever see again from anyone around you, no less the industry, THINK for once, and actually give a fuck.

Keep away.

Do not support this man.

But the decision is ultimately yours.

Stay awake, yall.

-------

(His face, publicly available as his imdb profile):

scary.

[ihatedean]

it's so small but there's something so interesting to me about the fact that when dean makes eileen's "pro list" with sam he says "she gets it. she gets us" instead of... you know, the much more normal and sane alternative when talking about your brother's potential partner, "she gets you."

it speaks volumes I think because there are so many examples of their attempts at a committed relationship failing specifically because [she] (insert whatever name you want here) did not get them. like, as a unit. [she] understood sam or understood dean and could maybe have given them something they wanted; you think you love someone, and yeah, there's baggage, he's been through some shit he doesn't want to talk about, but sometimes that's relationships, right? but if you had to pinpoint a moment in the relationship when things got bad, it would literally be the second the brother shows up. that's when you realize this man can't even imagine being anything but a half of something else. you love a person that is incapable of seeing himself as such. you loved a coping mechanism.

i don't think dean believes sam ever needed his seal of approval to be with eileen, not consciously at least, but the highlight of these late seasons is witnessing the aftermath of these two accepting that they cannot breathe if they don't know where the other one is. even worse, how natural they make it seem. of course i killed myself to bring you back. water is wet, dude, keep up. and just like dean said, eileen just... gets that. definitely because she met them at a very different point in their lives in comparison to, say, lisa or amelia. they have a security that only comes with seeing with your own eyes as your brother literally kills death for you. eillen knows that if she wants sam, he'll always carry dean with him. she might not fully understand how deep it goes or how bad it can get because she never witnessed it, all she knows is that brother trumps over girlfriend, she's not fighting it.

compared to sam who barely opens up to his partners and i assume only scratched the surface of The Thing with his brother, dean personally had his ex calling him out on his weird relationship with sam. like, lisa borderline insults them lol and though i don't think lisa's words made him insecure about it, it's not surprising he'd be more aware of eileen's reaction to it. "i tried the family thing" essentially means "i let someone see it."

if eileen stays there she'll be dating the two of them, just... in a not-fun, very unsexy way. and no one in that bunker stops for a second to think how deeply disturbing that is.

anyways i wrote this three days ago and thought maybe my brain made up the "she gets us" part, so i looked up the clip to make sure i'm not crazy and found this in the comments. thank you sinasina4170 on youtube two years ago. you said it a lot better in a lot less words.

[lucifersdickriderdotnet]

Sick and Tired

Summary: you can't say that anything about having a chronic illness is fun, but at least you have friends who care about you. 2.7k words

Disclaimer: GENDER NEUTRAL READER I wrote this in one go at like 3am. So. All of the brothers are in this but it's more platonic than anything else? If you want you can read it as romance because I did imagine kissing several of them on the mouth while writing it. also shout out to the author on ao3 that called Asmo "Momo" and then pointed out that it means "peach" in japanese. I did steal that nickname. lmk if it was you though bc I will credit you.

Notes: This is based on my own personal experience with a mystery disease that has been plaguing me since I hit puberty. I'm going to be very real, I wrote this for myself as a way to cope because I got #sad. it sucks, for sure, but there are some things that make it more bearable and isn't that how life works anyways?

The cool thing about being a human in what is essentially hell is that when diseases happen, you are more or less immune to them. The bad part about being a human in what is essentially hell is that you’re human and it’s essentially hell. Because of this, there are some things that you’ve had to explain to your housemates, or to an overeager Diavolo, or to a concerned Luke. You had to talk Lucifer down from renovating the whole House to put in an elevator because he was “worried about your flimsy human joints.”

“I have bad joints, regardless.” You remember saying, “I’m a human, it comes with the territory. Don’t put an elevator in the House, I don’t like them anyway.”

You’ve had to explain that while you’re grateful that they managed to find vitamin D supplements, they’re meant to be just that, a supplement to spending time in the sun, something the Devildom doesn’t have. So while your symptoms have been alleviated, they have not been fixed. Levi fixed this by buying you something like a heat lamp.

“Where did you even find this?” You’d said after he’d forced you underneath it.

“You’re gonna hate the words that are going to come out of my mouth.” His hands stilled from where they were busy attaching it to the wall by your bed.

“Just tell me.”

“Some demons used to, emphasis on ‘used to’, own humans as pets. So they made these little lamps to mimic the sun or whatever.” You blink at him, rapid fire before shrugging a little.

“Humans used to own each other.” He turns his head to gape at you like a fish.

“What?”

“Yeah it was a whole thing. There are still lasting repercussions that echo through our modern society.”

“That’s insane.”

“I thought I told you before that human cruelty knows no bounds.”

Solomon of course, is no help, because while he may be human, he is old. You’d complained of jaw pain once, something about your teeth aching.

“It might be a demon.” He’d said this confidently at the one dinner a month he’s allowed to have with the brothers. As per the dating-Asmo-agreement he made with Lucifer.

“It might be a what?” Satan’s head whipped towards Solomon so fast you thought he broke something.

“A demon. Tooth pain is caused by little demons in the teeth.” You stared at him like he grew a second head.

“No, it’s not. It’s caused by bacteria eating away at your teeth. And that’s just for cavities. This could be something completely different. Also, I don’t think humans have believed the demon teeth thing in forever. God, you’re old.” Your frustrated rebuttal of Solomon’s “wisdom” had not stopped the brothers from checking you up and down for curses or signs of possession.

So, for the most part. It’s fine, and you don’t mind explaining these things to them just like they don’t mind explaining demon culture to you. This though, you’ve never been able to explain to anyone, so you can’t explain it to them either.

—

“I’m so tired,” it’s noon and you woke up from sleeping two hours earlier. Asmo has dragged you out of the house for some shopping spree, and while you were excited to go, your energy levels have quickly depleted.

“But darling! We just started!” Despite saying this, he’s walking towards the register with the clothes he’s decided he likes, willing to cut his trip short if it’s for you. You shake your head.

“No, no, keep shopping. I’m always tired, Peach.” He hums and goes back to perusing the shelves while you stay seated by the dressing room for his mini fashion shows.

You don’t just get tired while hanging out with Asmo, it happens everywhere. Beel has to catch your head when you almost faceplant into your lunch. You spend a Devildom History class fighting to keep your eyes open while Satan takes twice the amount of notes as usual so you don’t fall behind. Levi asks you to watch a special livestream of a Sucre Frenzy concert and you have to sit down halfway through because you’re suddenly dizzy. You even fall tired while driving Mammon’s car, once.

He’d been in the passenger seat, fretting over your every move, and you’d understood despite the fact that it was incredibly annoying. This car was his baby, something he was incredibly proud of, something he worked hard to get. Still, having someone freak out over your driving usually makes it worse.

You’d been gently reassuring him of your skills when you felt it, the familiar pull of your eyelids, the way your brain seemed to slow down. It takes you a second longer than it should to register the red light and you have to slam on the brakes to avoid running it. It’s not too soon after that when you decide to pull over and have Mammon drive you home. You fall asleep on the way back.

—

This all comes to a head when you manage to outsleep Belphie.You aren’t sure how you did it, honestly. You went to bed on Friday afternoon and vaguely remember being woken up because a meal was ready. You remember making some sort of affirmative noise and then going back to sleep. You have hazy memories of stumbling to the bathroom and chugging down bottles of water, but mostly it was just sleep. Then, Belphie is shaking you awake. He’s saying something you can’t quite hear and Beel is picking you up and carrying you to the living room and the lights are so bright it turns your brain back on.

“Belphie, did you do somethin’?” It’s Mammon’s voice, accusatory. Someone pokes your cheek.

“So you kill a guy once and suddenly everything that happens to them is your fault?” His reply makes you snort.

“Did you or not?”

“No. This is… this is something else.” He sighs and then one of your eyelids is being manually opened so he can make eye contact with you before he lets go and your head drops slightly. “I know what my sin feels like. I know what Sloth feels like. It’s a choice, mostly. It’s the action of choosing to do nothing rather than something. This is something else. Something completely different.” You yawn and scrub at your eyes, finally opening them to stare at your posse.

“Did I get a fanclub while I was napping?”

“You’ve always had a fanclub,” Levi says quietly.

“Napping? You call that a nap?” Asmo pokes your cheek and you assume he’s the one who did it the first time.

“How do you know they have a fanclub?” Satan turns his head to Levi and his brother turns a bright shade of red.

“I’m the president.” He says. Beel raises his hand.

“I’m VP. We hold meetings every Wednesday. Lucifer pretends it’s stupid but he’s always in the club room ‘doing student council work’.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Lucifer finally interjects, not wanting to deal with his brothers’ needling. Satan grumbles something about him being a loser under his breath. “Are you aware of how long you were asleep for?”

“I mean, I dunno,” you stretch your arms above your head and almost hit someone in the face. “I remember someone coming to me about dinner, so probably a while. Why?” Lucifer sighs and rubs a hand down his face.

“It’s Sunday afternoon.” You stare at him blankly.

“This is the worst joke you’ve ever told.”

“I am not joking,” he says and Levi shoves his D.D.D under your nose. Sure enough it says that today, the day you are finally awake, is Sunday. It says that it’s 2pm. You’ve slept for almost a full 48 hours. The thought brings tears to your eyes immediately and Levi freaks out.

“No wait, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do when you cry!” His hands are flapping around your face uselessly and it makes you laugh and choke on a wet sob.

“You can back the fuck up, for starters.” Satan bodily pushes his brothers out of the way to get to you, placing a box of tissues on your lap and sitting next to you. Not close enough to touch, but enough so you know he’s there.

“Sorry,” you take a tissue and blow your nose. Beel holds out a trashcan and Asmo pretends not to be disgusted. It’s sweet. “Crying in front of people is so cringe.”

“Being vulnerable and crying is not something you should be ashamed of,” Lucifer says and it’s weird to have your own words parroted back at you.

“Why’re you apologizin’ anyway? ‘S not like you did anythin’ wrong. We’re just worried is all.” Mammon runs a hand over your hair as he says it before remembering himself and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s never been this bad before. I’ve never slept for damn near two days.”

“So this is a recurring problem?” Satan has procured a notebook from out of nowhere and has his hand poised to write down what you’re saying. Presumably to go scour his books for a solution.

“Yeah. It’s … I’m tired a lot. Always, really. I’m tired right now, actually. Sometimes it’s worse than others but … I don’t really know what’s wrong.” You huff, “I was actually in the process of getting tests done to figure it out when I got magic-ed here. Isn’t that funny?”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Asmo is resting his head on your shoulder and you tilt your head so it rests on his.

“Not really. ‘M sorry, Peach. I’d tell you if there was.”

“I always wondered why you had such deep eyebags. I thought it was something in your skincare routine.”

“It’s also genetic.”

“Humans have genes for dark under eyes?” He sounds horrified at the prospect.

“Sure do.”

“That’s miserable.” You laugh at him and he squeezes your hand gently.

“So, yer just… tired.” Mammon asks.

“Mhm.”

“Chronically.”

“Also yes.”

“I didn’t know you knew the word ‘chronic’, Mammon,” Belphie ribs Mammon from his spot on the floor. You kick him slightly.

“Don’t be an ass.” He sighs dramatically and flops over onto his back.

“It’s good to know it’s not a freaky demon thing.” He peers up at you from underneath his bangs.

“Yeah. I’m kind of tired of dealing with freaky demon things. No offense.” There’s a chorus of agreement throughout the room and you can see everyone relax a little now that they know.

“It is a shame though,” Lucifer says, “that it is not demon related.” His brow furrows. “Those I can fix.” You shrug and slightly jostle Asmo’s head.

“Eh. That’s life. Thank you for being concerned though, I appreciate it.” Your stomach grumbles. “I guess I should eat, huh?” Asmo graciously lifts his head off your shoulder and you head to the kitchen, Beel on your tail.

“There’s nothing we can do?” He looks sad, and he’s rubbing his wrist in that way he does when he’s nervous. You’re struck with the realization that Beel is the defender of his family. He’s physically the biggest and the strongest, and he’s been looking after them and taking care of them physically for basically forever. It must be excruciating for him to not be able to help you.

“No,” you shake your head sadly, “I’m sorry, Bug.” You step forward and give him a hug. He returns it and you pretend you can’t feel him cry.

—

Things are different after that. Asmo tries to hang out with you in places closer to the House or in his room. Lucifer pulls you aside and tells you both his room and his study are always open for you if you need them. Beel takes you to the gym with him so you don’t stay too sedentary, but is always willing to stop working out if you need to go home. Satan almost gets into a physical altercation with a teacher over you sleeping in class and you find out later that Belphie gave him nightmares for a week. Levi doesn’t make you sit through as many anime binges anymore, instead separating them up into something more bite sized so you can properly enjoy it. It’s nice, you think, that they’re trying to take your needs into consideration.

Diavolo catches wind of it and sneaks his way over to the House to ask you questions. Walks into Lucifer’s study where you’re trying to do assigned reading like he owns it, and you think that he probably does in some way.

“Diavolo–” Lucifer stands up and Diavolo laughs.

“Don’t worry! There is nothing wrong! I just had some questions for our lovely exchange student.” He sits down in the armchair across from you and you set your notebook down.

“What’s up?” You can hear Lucifer mumbling prayers to a God who will no longer listen to them and it makes you snort.

“I have learned of your condition.”

“I gathered.”

“There is nothing I can do?”

“Do you have several degrees and a shit ton of fancy machinery?” Lucifer chokes at your language. Diavolo smiles at you.

“Can’t say that I do.”

“Then, no. There isn’t.” He hums thoughtfully and you busy yourself with trying to figure out Lucifer’s Demonus organization pattern. It doesn’t seem to be by age, so maybe it’s by color?

“What does it feel like?” Diavolo’s question draws you out of your comparison of two almost identical wine reds. You think one has a brighter undertone but that could be the color of the label.

“Have you ever been tired?”

“Indeed.”

“Have you ever not slept, for like, a whole day, and you can feel that your brain isn’t working at maximum capacity?” He nods. “Have you ever felt like you were trying to run in a swimming pool?”

“I can run in swimming pools.” You roll your eyes.

“Can you run through slime?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It’s like that. It’s being so tired that you know you aren’t operating at your best and being able to do nothing about it. It’s like moving through water. It’s never getting enough sleep. I could sleep the perfect amount for a human my age and I would still be down to take several long naps throughout the day. And it’s not something I can ignore, either. I can’t just power through it. Because after a while, it starts to hurt.”

“Hurt?” He frowns, and it’s weird to see him not smiling.

“Yeah. It’s. When I get too tired my eyes will hurt. It feels like they’re grapes and someone is squishing the life out of them. It feels like a thousand tiny needles poking at my eyes. It feels like someone is squishing the bridge of my nose in their fist and refuses to let go. It makes my stomach hurt, it makes me nauseous and sick, and it makes me dizzy and it’s awful.”

“I see.”

“So, I have to sleep. I have to sleep because if I don’t it hurts and if I manage to get through that my body will make itself sleep, anyway. It’ll just turn off, regardless of if I want it to or not.”

“That. That is miserable. I am sorry you have to experience such a thing.” You shrug a little and stare at your hands.

“What can you do?” It comes out sarcastic and dry. There’s a silence, tense and weighty, and you know what he’s going to ask before he does.

“Do you need to go to the human world?” You can hear Lucifer’s sharp inhale even though he was pretending to not listen.

“Maybe. But, if it is what I think it is, it won’t go away. I’ll just know and get medication. Probably.” Diavolo stands and nods.

“At least you will know. I will figure something out for you.” He nods again, this time to himself. “There is no reason for you to suffer this way.”

“It won’t go away, Diavolo. I’ll still have it.” You need him to know this. You need him to know that it won’t be permanently fixed. You don’t want him to be disappointed when everything’s said and done and you’re still sick.

“Yes, but things will be better, no? Some progress is better than no progress, no matter how small.” He pauses and smiles at you, warm and comforting. “And we will all be there for you. Regardless of the outcome.”

[bookshelf-dust]

let the light in

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2,177

warnings: (this is a heavy fic! please be aware before you read if any of this is triggering for you!) swearing, reader suffers from depression/is in a depressive episode, allusions to passive suicidal feelings and self harm (not explicitly stated), trouble eating/drinking, wooziness, side effects of self-neglect, trouble with self care, one use of y/n, slight hair description—essentially reader is just very depressed

a/n: hello! it’s been quite a while since i wrote anything, but alas i have remembered how. i used this fic as a way to deal with things i’ve been going through and provide myself some comfort, but i’m hoping that it will reach anyone else who needs that or understands these sort of feelings. i really need a steve, and maybe you do too. please be kind! this is a tentative attempt at getting back into writing. also as a small note, this is meant to bet set in the mid 90s, so reader and steve are in their twenties. happy reading <33

————

The phone is ringing again. For the third time. 

You know who it is without having to answer. It’s not like there are a plethora of people with your number anyway. 

But for the third time, you let it ring. When the shrill noise stops, you think you’re in the clear—only for the sound of Steve’s voice to reach your ears. He’s leaving you a voicemail.

Fucking answering machine. 

You stare at the wall, your arm dangling off the bed, while you listen to him say everything you knew he’d say. That he’s worried. That he’s coming to check on you because your lack of an answer is freaking him out. 

And you gave him a key all those months ago, so it’s not like you can stop him. You wouldn’t have the energy to anyhow. 

You roll over and tuck your hands under your cheek. You have no idea what time it is, but the little light your curtains had let in is gone, leaving your room dark. There is a small night light though, just under your window, that Robin bought you because it looks like your favorite flower. Other than that, your small apartment has succumbed to the darkness of a winter evening.

That pressure behind your eyes builds, and without knowing why, you begin to cry. Steve is going to see you like this, and you want to be alone. You don’t have it in you to talk about it or be berated for letting yourself go. 

But you’re also angry. You don’t understand why he gives a shit about you, or why he can’t just leave you alone. Why he can’t just let you go. Why he won’t let you go.  

Most of all you’re angry at yourself for being this way. For being so fucked up. For being alone and for having to watch everyone else be happy and content. 

In your emotional haze, you fall back asleep. You’re not sure how though, considering you shouldn’t even need the rest anymore. But that tired feeling ever goes away, does it?

You wake to the sound of footsteps, to the feeling of your mattress dipping behind you. There’s a gentle weight on your side. Steve.

“Hey, honey,” he starts. “Did you get my message?” 

Steve’s hand rubs softly back and forth over the dip of your waist. You hate the pitying tone in his voice. Even if you know it’s not pity. It’s pain. He’s too big of an empath, and he hates seeing you this way. It breaks his heart, not knowing what you’re feeling and having to see you in a way that embodies nothing more than a shell of the you he first met. 

“You need to go home, Steve,” you say, refusing to face him. He’s turned your lamp on, and something about that pisses you off. 

Your voice is pleading, and it brings tears to Steve’s eyes. He pushes his glasses up onto his forehead. 

“You know I can’t do that. I won’t leave you here like this.”

You roll your eyes and shift onto your back. Steve’s stomach drops at how drained you look. 

“I want you to leave. I need to be alone,” you say, staring at his hand where it’s moved to your stomach with the change in position. 

Your words are harsh, thick with emotion, and you look at Steve like you’re begging him to see how much you’re hurting and need him to go away. You want him to listen and leave you here to slowly disappear. That’s all you’re asking for. So why can’t he give you that much? 

It’s killing him to see you like this. To watch you try and push him away. He knows that’s part of your plan. That way it’ll be easier, in the end. But this is not the you he’s always known. There was a time before it got this bad. Before you lost yourself in it. 

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, rather than fueling your frustration. 

You roll onto your side, completely facing him now, and pull the blankets up to your chin. Your eyes fill with tears, so you close them. Something about being asked that upsets you. You don’t feel like eating and he’s going to make you.

Steve puts a hand on your leg and waits for an answer. 

“Yesterday. At breakfast. I had a Pop-Tart.”

He keeps himself from sighing, but his heart might as well have dropped out of his ass. You haven’t eaten in 36 hours, and he’s sure that if he hadn’t shown up you might’ve made it more. You’re clearly not worried about eating, and there’s not a single cup in your room either.

“Please don’t make me eat, Steve. I don’t feel like it. Please don’t make me do anything.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes. You want to be left here until your body gives up on you.

“Honey, I’m not going to force you. But I came here to help you, and I need you to try and let me.”

Your vision goes blurry, tears rushing to the surface because the idea of taking care of yourself in any way upsets you more than anything. You cover your eyes, but can’t hold back the sob that lurches up your throat. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, come here.” 

Steve slips a hand around your back, coaxing you upwards. You oblige, happy to let him hold you for a moment. You ignore the fact that your vision blurs again, due to the fact that you haven’t sat up in who knows how long, and fall into him. 

“I can’t, Steve. I can’t do anything or remember a damn thing. I’m so tired. I don’t feel like being alive. I don’t want to move.”

Hearing you express those feelings through your cries, hearing you tell him how bad it’s gotten tears him apart. He wants to make it all better. He can’t bear seeing you like this. And he doesn’t want to imagine what you might’ve done to take these feelings out before he got here. 

Steve holds you until you stop wailing, and even when you pull away the tears still come, hiccups making you hold your breath. Your eyes are swollen and your nose won’t quit running. It doesn’t bother him one bit. 

“I know you probably don’t want to do anything, so I have a plan for you, okay? I’m gonna turn the shower on and let you hop in while I get you something small for dinner. I’m gonna take care of everything.”

You sigh. You can’t leave your bed. Besides, who knows if you’ll even be able to stand with how little you’ve put in your body lately.

You press your face into Steve’s shoulder and shake your head. “I don’t think I can.”

He places both hands gently on your cheeks and lifts your face to get you looking at him. 

“You can. I’m going to help, I promise. You won’t have to do anything too demanding.”

Steve slides off the bed and stands. He gently pulls the blankets back from your lap, revealing criss crossed legs and socked feet. He taps your knee and you brace yourself against the mattress, moving your legs over the side, toes feeling for the floor. 

He holds out his hands and you grab hold of his forearms, letting him pull you upwards. Just as suspected, your vision swirls and your body goes all tingly. You sway a little, but Steve holds onto you still, waiting for the moment to pass. After a few seconds, your sight clears, your ears stop ringing, and you can stand on your own. “I’m okay now,” you say. 

He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You don’t deserve this. He needs to stop being so good to you when you’re falling apart.

“Stretch a little, alright?” Steve looks at you over his shoulder before going for your dresser and opening your pajama drawer. 

You try to do as he says, ignoring the way you feel compelled to tell him not to take this so seriously. You press your hands to your back and lean so your hips pop, raise your arms so your shoulders do the same, and bend so harshly that your vision goes out again. Your body is so angry with you.

You’d closed your eyes, but open them when you hear the shower start running. Steve leaves your small bathroom and walks toward you.

“I laid everything out for you, okay? You don’t have to stay long if you don’t want, you only have to cover your bases. You’ll feel so much better after, I promise.”

You nod, and Steve is surprised by the way you hesitantly walk into the bathroom and mentally prepare yourself to shower. 

“Yell if you need me,” he says, smiling before he closes the door behind you. 

You’ve never wanted to shower less in your life, but the water is already running, and you have to get it over with. You quickly undress, avoiding the mirror and anything that might cause an extra ache. Though you do run a hand over the tender skin of your thigh before opening the door and stepping in. You know you have to be kinder to yourself. 

As for bathing, you’re quick, but you wash and condition your hair and make sure to wash your body just as well. You’d never admit it, but being clean does help some. At least you’re physically taken care of. 

When you’re finished, you realize you hadn’t gotten a towel, but your eyes soon find what Steve had laid out for you.

Two towels. Underwear. Your robe. Clean pajamas and socks. Not to mention the lotion and hairbrush he slid forward on the counter so you’d reach for them. He did all of this to make things easier for you. And that makes your heart grow in size. 

You towel off and make the effort to put lotion on as best as you can. Usually you can haphazardly do your back on your own, but you’re so tired now, you realize. You haven’t moved this much in days. 

You gently pull the bathroom door open. “Steve?” you call. He’s there within seconds. 

“Yeah? All done, sweetheart?”

“Almost. Do you think you could put lotion on my back for me? I might need help with my hair, too. If you don’t mind.”

He smiles so sweetly at you. “Of course I don’t mind. Come on.” 

You watch as he pumps some of your lotion into his hands, sniffing it just to make you grin. You move your robe down off your shoulders so that he can get to your back, careful to keep your chest covered. Not that he’d dare look anyway. 

His hands are gentle and soft against the nape of your neck, up and down your spine, on your lower back. He covers the area for you, taking the time to massage it in and hopefully provide you a little relief. 

When he’s finished, you pull your robe up and tie it around your waist. You don’t have the chance to reach for your hairbrush because he’s already got it, fingers gathering your mass of hair towards your back. You can feel the heat of him behind you, and the ache for physical contact surfaces in your chest.

Steve is incredibly gentle when detangling your hair. He starts at the bottom and works your way up, apologizing each time it snags. It feels so nice, so mundane and comforting, that you close your eyes and let yourself feel his hands on your scalp, on your shoulders. You let him take care of you without complaint. 

When that’s over he allows you to finish dressing. You slip into the pajamas he’d chosen for you, not disregarding the fact that the shirt is one of his. 

You patter out to the kitchen, where Steve has fixed you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cut into triangles. You sit next to him on your couch and eat in the quiet of the evening, you enjoying being less alone and him glad to see you eating. 

He takes your empty plate from you shortly after, noticing how sleepy you look. 

“Come on, honey. Let’s go lay down, yeah?” He helps you up and holds your hand on the way to the bedroom. He’d changed your sheets while you were showering.

You sit down on the bed, watery eyes looking up at him. “Are you leaving?” you ask.

“No, sweetheart. I was going to offer to stay.”

“Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Steve slips into bed beside you. “You don’t have to worry. I’m right here.” He takes your pinky in his. “I promise you won’t have to suffer through this on your own. I’m not going anywhere.”

You squeeze your pinky against his, and in that moment, the pain in your chest eases just a little bit. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[pensbridge]

Do people really think that Colin means what he says? I can't; I have no words.

I was kind of saying this in a post before it premiered: Colin's words to Penelope are not about her. They all lead back to his insecurities.

Pen is trying to entrap Colin

Did you forget this happened to him before? He's A) questioning her feelings. He's also the "overlooked;" (we just went over this in part 1) he gets mocked and laughed at for not going with the status quo by people including his family. It wouldn't be far-fetched to think Penelope who he trusts so much now falls into that category. AND BECAUSE THE CARRIAGE ALSO HAPPENED BEFORE HE KNEW. AND NOW HE KNOWS SHE WROTE THAT BAD PAPER ABOUT HIM. So, to him it looks like she lied ABOUT EVERYTHING. BECAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE SHE WAS PLAYING HIM & LAUGHING ABOUT HIM IN THAT PAPER & THAT SHE LOOKS DOWN ON HIM. Also, I just wrote this in a different post, his upset in feeling "entrapped" comes from the pain of loving her and not being able to shake it. He says to Eloise, "feel lucky you have never been in love," DIRECTLY in the scene before this! Dear God, pay attention to him. He's B) Insecure Af BECAUSE THIS HAPPENED TO HIM BEFORE (thnx Marina love her tho) Can we acknowledge the trauma?

He mentions Marina (and his family).

This isn't about Marina. I'm gonna break this down real quick because I wanted to do this anyway:

He asks about the El writing, because now he's putting the pieces together of why they're not friends and is confused how she could do that to her bff that questions her true loyalty which is super important to him.

"Miss Thompson-Exposing her as you did. Ruining her." sidenote Colin can't let go of this "Thompson" (not Crane) name thing, probably because he's traumatized from the public embarrassment. BUT HE'S TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF. He was publically embarrassed (and it was repeated with the s3 paper). Even though it was directly exposing/"ruining" to Marina as a woman, he felt like he was exposed for being stupid. It affected his confidence.

Then he says "Then, you should have told me to my face," which is a small & obvious line but I feel like it's important: He's telling you that the public embarrassment is the part that makes him upset. "Or do you not respect me enough?" ding, ding, ding! His big problem with her doing this. She talked bad about him behind his back (literally in the s3 paper, and indirectly in the Marina issue). He's like: you must think I'm dumb, then...[which leads into the jealousy-She's an accomplished author. He feels inadequate. He has to correct this on his own, AND HE DOES!] Nonetheless, he feels like she essentially put one over on him, because she had this inside knowledge and he was clueless (Marina issue, s3 issue). another sidenote: his eyes get so much more teary at that respect line.

"It is clear you do not, after what you have written about me this year...that I hardly know myself. What were you thinking then?" Oh do you think that of me (and so little of me)?

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Blind Love Chapter 24

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

slight nsfw, minors dni

And so this case came to a close—

Time continued to pass until my month as Fairytale Keeper was up…

Ale: Woof.

Kate: Huh, Ale?! Didn’t you go back home?

While I blinked at Ale, who jumped into my arms, Ellis came running after.

Ellis: Roger’s father just came by. He asked us to look after him for a while again.

Roger: He’s doing his own thing again. But it’s more fun when it’s lively around here, isn’t it Kate?

Kate: Yes. Come here, Ale!

Ale: Arf arf.

It looked like Ale would be spending more time in Crown Castle.

--

Roger: …There’s a typo here. Also, the case would be easier to follow if you wrote it in chronological order.

Kate: Ugh…Can you please go easy on me?

Roger was proofreading my report…

--

Roger: Now then…

Ellis: What are we toasting?

Jude: Just say somethin’ that works.

Kate: Eh, me? Then, um… To another uneventful day. Cheers!

We went out to drink with Jude and the others…

The time left flew by.

But it was enough time to make some memories—At last, my month was up.

Yes, today was the last day…

And the day to reveal to Roger what I had been planning.

--

All members of Crown, minus Roger, and I gathered in the audience chamber.

(Roger still hasn’t mentioned what his final trial is)

(I’m almost certain he’s going to make me do the impossible and then let me go…)

And say something like “don’t do something stupid like putting up with someone with a shortened lifespan like myself.”

(That’s why I—)

While I reaffirmed the thoughts hidden in my heart, Roger entered the audience chamber.

Roger: What’s with suddenly summoning everyone here?

Victor: We’re all here now. Then let's hold a ceremony for Kate’s continuation as Fairytale Keeper.

Roger: …O_O

(This is what I decided on, Roger)

I cracked a smile at his surprised expression.

Victor: Kate, not only did you keep Crown’s secret for a whole month as promised, you have also become an essential part of us. I’d like to express my most sincere gratitude. Thank you. The other day, she had come to me to discuss her continuation as Fairytale Keeper. If there are no mistakes in the proposal, then sign this letter of agreement to continue as Fairytale Keeper.

I stepped forward and signed the letter of agreement, set the pen down, and walked up to Roger who looked at me in surprise.

Kate: I intend to continue being a Fairytale Keeper and record Crown’s evil. More importantly, I want to continue helping you fulfill your ambitions. You probably thought we’d be parting ways today. I can’t be leave you anymore!

Roger: …O_O

Roger’s eyes widened even more…

Roger: Leave? What’re you talking about?

Kate: Huh?

Roger: You sure you’re not misunderstanding something here?

(Misunderstanding?? Eh, but!)

Kate: But you!

I heard someone clear his throat and turned to see William wearing his usual refined smile.

William: Roger, Kate. Do keep in mind that we’re in the presence of Her Majesty. Save your lover’s quarrel for another place.

As I bowed my head in a hurry, Ellis and Liam clapped…

Ellis: Anyway, congrats on your continuation as Fairytale Keeper, Kate.

Liam: I don’t know what’s going on, but if it means I can keep being with Kate, then I’m happy with it.

Harrison: I’m still curious about what Kate’s misunderstanding with Roger is. I’m confused.

Jude: I actually agree for once. Ya took up our time and now there’s a misunderstandin’. Are ya stupid?

Alfons: We’ll find out soon enough. In any case, we’ll have to deal with them making out in the castle. Ahh, so troublesome!

Elbert: Kate…I look forward to working with you more.

Victor: It seems everyone’s welcoming Kate’s continued role as Fairytale Keeper. I’m counting on you. Watch the light and darkness with your clear eyes together with Crown.

Kate: Victor, and everyone else…Thank you. 

William: Now then, let’s have a moment of peace before our next condemnation. We should hold a dinner party for Kate. Come. Our beautiful robin who’s chosen to live in the dark—

William slowly reached out toward me, and as his fingertips were about to touch mine…

Roger: I know you lot like her, but we need to have a talk first.

Roger took my hand, fixed his gaze on me, and then threw me over his shoulder—

Kate: Hey, Roger?!

Roger: Sorry, but I’m taking this one.

And so the two disappeared behind the door.

Victor: William, you provoked Roger on purpose, didn’t you? You naughty boy.

William: We have robin with us. I’m allowed this much of a blessing.

--

He set me down on his bed and was in front of me before I even had a chance to sit up.

Roger: —So, what’s your aim? Since it looks like you’re conspiring with Victor.

(It doesn’t sound like Roger’s happy with my decision to stay as Fairytale Keeper…)

Kate: …I was eavesdropping earlier. Jude said that you’ve been shortening your lifespan by testing on yourself.

Roger: I see. I thought it was weird how you didn’t come back right away.

Roger let out a deep sigh.

Roger: I’m not always listening out for things, so I didn’t notice.

Kate: …I’m sorry for eavesdropping and then pretending I didn’t know anything. I thought you were going to use your final trial as a chance to keep me away.

(If that happened, then I’d be at a loss)

That’s why I thought I had to find a way to stay by Roger’s side before it happened.

Roger: It’d suck to be with a man who’s lifespan’s been cut short. So you thought it’d be a farewell?

I nodded slowly.

Kate: …Is it not?

Roger sighed again.

Roger: Everything you heard was true. But what I had planned for your final trial was the exact opposite of whatever you deluded yourself into thinking.

(Huh?)

Roger: Since I’m the eldest son of the Barel family, this is the account where the property and assets are saved, and this is the deed to the Barel family’s land. And this—

I started panicking as he pulled one unexpected thing out of his pocket after another.

Kate: Eh, uh, wait. What are you…

Roger went to get something out of his desk drawer, leaving me on the bed, confused.

Roger: Here, this is the most important thing.

He draped a lab coat over my shoulders.

(The embroidery on the lab coat…it’s my name)

As I traced the embroidery, a large hand rested on my head.

Roger: I definitely can’t say that I’ll live long. Because of that, I’m giving you everything that’s mine. More importantly, you’ll never be bored when we’re together. I’ll love you thoroughly. Kate. Be my lover, or don’t. If you choose to, then kiss me.

Kate: Roger, is this…?

When I looked into his eyes for confirmation, he nodded.

Roger: This is the final trial I had in mind.

Kate: …

The moment he said that, I almost stopped breathing.

(He couldn’t have prepared the deed and other stuff in a day)

(Meaning Roger never intended on letting me go…)

Realizing that I had misunderstood everything, my cheeks heated up.

Kate: …Wha

Roger: …Wha?

Kate: W-what is this…You should’ve said something sooner…

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. You’re the one that came up with some wild delusion. You’re still too naive. Do I look like the nice sort of guy that’d pull back for another?

You don’t.

You’re nice, but not. +4 +4

I forgot you were like this.

Kate: You’re nice, but not. You’re an egoist that can be either.

Roger: You like that, don’t you?

This man that was like poison, was the greatest egoist. He was a villain who made whatever he wanted his.

(In the end, I was so stupid for forgetting that)

Roger: I’ve thought about it like most people would. If there was a way to let you go. But when you came to save me in jail and gave me that pep talk, I was convinced. …Yeah, can’t let this one go. I wanted to make her own life mine. Besides, I’ve already told you. “I will never betray you without a reason. Never.”

(Ah…)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Kate, I’ve taken a liking to you so I’ll promise you this. I will never betray you without a reason. Never.

~~ End flashback ~~

The hand that was on my head slowly pulled me in.

Roger: I won’t betray your love. Let’s be together, Kate. I can’t promise that I won’t make you sad. However—You can’t be satisfied by anyone else but me, can you?

Roger gently touched his forehead to mine and gave me a wicked smile.

(T-t-this…)

(This man~~!)

(But, the moment I fell for a selfish man like him, I lost!)

I squeezed my eyes shut and kissed Roger on the lips.

Kate: Roger, please make me your lover.

Roger: Likewise.

Roger kissed me back, but it didn’t end there. His kisses went lower, down my neck and chest.

Kate: Roger…?

Roger: I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Let’s do something that feels good that we haven’t done in a while.

Now that we were lovers, I didn’t have a reason to reject him.

(I wonder if Roger and I will finally do that tonight…)

As I listened to my heart pound, my body suddenly relaxed.

Roger: I’d be a waste if we went straight to the main course. Let’s savor this thoroughly.

I felt my heart beat faster as my breath hitched. But then—

Roger: Whoops, I got an appointment with Jude. See ya, Kate.

Before I could chase after the warmth, the door shut…

Kate: ……What?

I was left all alone in the room, confused.

…However, there was a meaning to this baffling neglect.

It was to make me commit this pleasure to memory—in other words, training me.

--

Kate: Nn..haa…so deep, I can’t.

Roger: If you don’t like it, we’ll stop here.

Kate: …Eh?

Despite tormenting my core so much, he slipped his fingers out too soon…

--

Kate: Mnn, Roger, there…feels so good…more…haaaa.

Roger: Nope, that’s enough for today.

Kate: What do you mean that’s enough…?

Roger: We’re in the middle of a serious lesson on anatomy. We’ll study here later.

Roger was the one that touched me first, but he came up with an excuse to stop, leaving me aching…

Roger kept denying me every time.

--

…And tonight was no exception.

Roger: Haha, you get so wet, so fast.

Of course I did, because Roger kept denying me release. My body became sensitive to even the slightest bit of stimulation.

Roger: …What do you wanna do, Kate? Wanna go all the way tonight?

[shiftylinguini]

Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack:

@phoebe-delia asked in response to this fun lil ask game:

Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back? . (for the ask anything) Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back?

Now THIS. This is a good question, and something that is very much on my mind and has been for a while, as I am currently absolutely in the midst of this and trying to army crawl my way out. I don't have any magic bullets (is that the saying? idk) but I have been here before and i do have a small arsenal of tips or methods that I find can help me. 

Here is my Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack (In no particular order):

Write anything 

This is hardly groundbreaking advice, and it's also the hardest thing to actually do (imo) so do not beat yourself up if it takes a while to get to this. Basically, write ANYTHING―it can be aimless, it can be pointless, it can be crap (crap is subjective!! don't let the brain gremlins win!!). 

Don't think about posting it, don't worry about anyone else ever reading it, just fling a few words onto a page and feel the rusty faucet turn on, proving to yourself that it still works. 

Try and sus out what it is that's blocking you 

Again this one is hard and annoying but functional. Once you can put your finger on the particular reason you're staring at a flashing black line on a blank page it can help you kick that reason off your lawn and into the bin. 

And then, take it out of the bin and be kind to yourself about whatever that reason is. Maybe you feel shit because you're comparing yourself to others, your last fic felt like a lead balloon, you can't muster enthusiasm for what you once loved doing and fear that it's gone forever, you're projecting in a Tumblr post―whatever it is, it's something all the writers you admire and aspire to be like have felt, and been annoyed with themselves for, and so you can wrap it up in a blanket and put it on a shelf and be kind to it so it, (respectfully) shuts the fuck up. 

(and remember, everyone feels insecure about their stuff. Like literally everyone, at some stage, feels like their stuff is rubbish)

Cheat on your OTP 

Okay this one might not work for everyone, but it really does for me lol. Ruts (not the sexy kind) can often come with not wanting to engage in my usual ships, being annoyed by my lack of ability to fucking write them/anything/all my ideas taste like cardboard/bleh, and stepping out on them and reading something new can snap me out of it. Just, an injection of new ideas or scenarios or words or even just a little reprieve from being fed up with myself, which ideally, is why we're all here anyway. 

(And then I come crawling back, and am welcomed with open arms haha)

In a similar vein:

Engage in media 

This subtitle is genuinely terrible, i am sorry, LMAO, but essentially: find a piece of media that makes you go "oh, helLO sailor", unhinge your jaw like a snake, and consume it whole. 

Let it nourish you, inspire you, excite you, making you feel SOMETHING, and then take that and think "fuck, what if i wrote bleepbloopblarp" and even if you write nary a single word, you've thought about it and that fucking counts. 

It might be an album, a book, a song, a show, gifs of a hot person, the wikipedia summary of a movie, literally anything counts here if it makes you feel a twinge of creativity. 

Ask yourself, what would Astolat do? 

No for real. @candybarrnerd and I genuinely use this haha.  

Worried your idea is stupid? Astolat would say write it. 

Worried it's too weird? Nah, just write it. 

It's dumb and no one will read it? Just write it for you *waggles eyebrows* (and then find out that yeah, nah, someone else will absolutely read this and be real fucking happy about it haha.)

Worried you're a one trick pony and have already written this fic before, like, and not even once before, and also you're projecting again in Tumblr post? WRITE IT AGAIN! As Astolat once said, "it's a fic so nice, I wrote it thrice". 

It's good advice. 

Make a friend or lean hard on the ones you have here

Misery loves company because it knows they'll come out of this together :). I know, I know, that's fucking NAFF, but fandom is all about finding like-minded freaks and blowing up their DMs because you saw a gif and now feel a kind of ways about it. 

And lastly: 

FUCK STATS! 

I mean I love stats (yay validation!), but god can they make you feel like a worthless shit (hey where did my validation go :((( ). It can be really insidious, so piss that right off when it starts to fuck with your confidence or outlook on your own writing.

Hopefully there is something useful here, even if it's just looking at this advice and thinking "no that's shit, it's writing POISON" cos then you can maybe do the version you think is NOT shit, and that might work. 

Good luck, fellow travelers!!

[laurfilijames]

Tan Lines

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader with skin tone able to tan (me, it's me.)

Words: 2,143

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Nudity. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse. Semi-public sex?

Summary: While enjoying a getaway at a lakeside cottage, Will becomes curious to see what tan lines the sun has marked on your skin and can't seem to control himself once he does.

A/N: I love summer and Ironhead almost equally (I love him more let's be real) and long for moments like this as I'm laying out sunning myself on my dock at the lake. This idea wouldn't leave me, and I'm trying to hold on to the last bits of summer and the extreme tan lines I've acquired myself, so here we are. ☀️ I wrote this purely for myself and my own enjoyment because I'm a selfish whore but wanted to share anyway and will write all future x female reader fics without specifying appearance as usual unless noted.

---

Will couldn't think of anything better; enjoying your little oasis in the slow, lazy heat of summer, just you and him.

Much to his surprise and relief, the lake was quiet, making it seem even more like it was only the two of you around, adding to the bliss and aiding in his ability to find his scarcely experienced relaxation.

Being here made him feel like he was finally able to shut his brain off, like he could focus on being with you and being fully present, with nothing to distract him from the attention he craved to give you.

The dock bounced under his weight as he pushed off it and dove into the water, the temperature feeling refreshing on his toasted skin.

Breaking through the surface, he ran a hand over his face and then up through his hair to make it stick up, watching you stretch out your limbs that were no doubt tired and achy from session after session of sex as you laid peacefully in the sun on your beach towel.

He tread water for a couple of minutes before deciding he had been away from you for long enough; your sun kissed skin and body barely covered in the flimsy material that made up your bikini tempting him once again.

You blew a long sigh out of your nose, feeling your body essentially melt into the hard dock beneath you, the high-noon sun warming every inch of you.

Will was trying to be quiet, but you could still hear the sound of the water lapping at his form and feel the dock dip as he began to climb up the ladder, and you shielded your eyes in order to better take in his sculpted muscles that glimmered in the sunlight as water ran down and accentuated them; the beams casting light onto every peak and creating shadows in every valley of his expertly carved flesh. A smile formed on your lips, not unable to match the one spread across his face, and you showed no shame in letting your eyes trail down his body to where his soaked trunks stuck to his vast thighs and showcased everything he had to offer.

His large frame stood in the way of the sun, obstructing you completely with his shadow.

"You're blocking my sun," you chided, a playful tone in your voice, causing him to cock an eyebrow at you.

Saying nothing, he knelt at your feet, crawling over top of you where water dripped all over your skin, the change in temperature feeling more drastic than it actually was because of how warm you were.

"Hi," he said, his voice raspy, his eyes dancing with mischief as he hovered above you.

"Hi," you replied, tilting your head slightly as you continued to smile. "Can I help you, Captain Miller?"

He chuckled and nodded his head, "I need to see these tan lines, sweetheart."

Will plucked the strap of your bikini, running his finger down the length of the one side, thinking how each thin panel was tied together by strings that held too much responsibility and threatened to expose you with something as simple as a single pull on them.

You moaned quietly as you squirmed to his gentle touch, your eyelids falling shut when he leaned down and pressed his mouth to your neck where your pulse hammered, your hands smoothing up his wet back that was still cool from the water.

Inhaling deeply, he breathed in the faint scent of coconut from the sunscreen he had carefully massaged onto you about an hour ago, his lips pressing more and more feverishly into your supple skin with each kiss.

A low growl rumbled through his chest as he settled himself on top of you, wedging your legs apart for him to lay between as he continued to kiss a path along your chest and up the column of your neck until he met your lips, his hips beginning to grind and slowly roll against yours.

You hummed into his mouth, relishing in the feel of his tongue moving with yours, tasting him as well as the freshness of the lake that clung to his beard.

His cock was already hard and pressing into you, awakening an arousal that never seemed to leave, your need for him only ever increasing the more you had him.

"I thought you wanted to see my tan lines?" you asked, pausing the action of your mouths.

"Hmm, you're distracting me," he scolded, supporting himself on one arm as he used the other hand to trace the outline of your top up to where it was secured with a bow at the nape of your neck.

Slowly, he tugged the end of it, the corner of his mouth creeping upward as he untied it, his eyes drifting down to your chest after having stared into yours intensely as he worked.

Will pulled each tiny triangle down in turn, exposing both of your breasts, his mouth watering and cock twitching at the contrast between your tanned skin and the places no one else had the privilege to see but him.

"God damn," he grunted, dipping his head back toward you so he could take one of your hardened nipples between his lips, sucking and flicking it with his tongue until your back arched up off the dock and he was able to tug at the other string and completely remove the garment from you. He directed his attention over to your other breast to equalize his worship, his growing moans and increase in the movement of his groin on yours indicating his approval, giving your nipple one last pass of his tongue as he grabbed at the flesh of your tit roughly before peeling his head away.

Staring at you almost venomously, his chest rose and fell sharply to display his barely-controlled desperation for you.

"Fuck me, you look good, baby," he muttered, his vibrant eyes flickering over all the parts of your body that his wasn't covering.

You smiled and wriggled beneath him, tucking your bottom lip in your teeth, waiting and silently begging him to unleash anything he wanted to on you.

His fingers toyed with the string on the side of your bottoms, and he smiled as he leaned down to kiss you, his playfulness showing through despite being on the border of becoming completely brutal.

"What's going on down here?" he asked between kisses.

You shrugged in response, looking at him innocently, making him shake his head before diving back to your lips where he kissed you intensely again.

You both laughed as he began unraveling one of the measly bows that kept your bottoms together, his teeth moving to graze over your lip and pull it between them as he moved his face to peer down at your hips.

"Looks like there might be some lines here, too," he purred, and your heart leapt at seeing how happy and excited he was although it was in his usual subtlety; his eyes bright and his cheeks creased from his smirk.

Leaving the one side undone, he kissed you again, this time slower like he was savouring you, his fingers carefully ghosting up your waist to make your side contract to the slight tickle of his touch, and he kissed you even deeper when you whined into his mouth.

Lost in his affection and feel of his weight laying securely over you, you didn't bother keeping track of where his hands were, indulging in having them roam all across your bronzed skin, his kiss enough to make your mind go blank. It wasn't until his hand cupped your partially-covered sex that you registered where he was touching you, making you press your mouth harder onto his in an attempt to signal your desperation for more.

Will was often generous, and today was no exception, feeling two of his long fingers slip between your folds to stroke you expertly, causing you to gasp out loud as your lips involuntarily left his.

"Look at you," he murmured, lust making his voice catch in his throat, "always wet and ready for me."

A guttural sound escaped him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the tips of his fingers massaging your g-spot with each pass, the ecstasy he was providing pulling you further and further away from any point of return.

Short, laboured breaths poured out of you as your mewling increased, giving warning of your fast-approaching orgasm, only to be halted when Will ceased his actions and chuckled with cruel amusement.

"Hang on, sweetheart."

Using the hand that had been working you, he shifted to tug his trunks down just enough to get his cock out, his face screwing up with restraint and his jaw setting tightly as he smeared your slick on his throbbing length with a couple of harsh jerks.

The sun light caught the drop of precum leaking out of the tip, the glimmer of it all too-appealing and making you far more needy for him to fill you than ever.

Thankful to not have to beg, Will lined up to your spread core and pushed inside you slowly, reaching your deepest point before dragging back out again to stretch your tight cunt, the sounds of his approval ringing in your ears as your bodies began to meld together.

A grueling, but vigilant pace was quickly chosen, one you knew wouldn't take long to send you both to the brink especially with the way he kissed you forcefully and gripped tightly onto your thigh to angle your leg up in order to pound you deeper.

"That feel good, baby?" he panted, parting from you to look down to see his dick pumping in and out of you, a lazy, pleased smile dressing his lips along with the moisture from your mouth.

"Fuck! Yes, Will!" you cried, your nails clawing at the back of his neck that was warmed from the sun.

Licking his lips, he dove back to meet with yours, his body rocking in time with the sway of the dock moved by the water, his tempo increasing in fervor when he felt you clench around him in an agonizing, pulsing pattern.

He held onto you as if you would float away, slamming into you with surety and purpose as you dragged him into the throes of the highest pleasure with you, filling your soaked pussy with shot after shot of his hot spend.

His stomach pushed down and retracted quickly on top of yours with his breaths as he came down, letting himself settle onto your body more as his hands moved up to cup the sides of your face, kissing you with a passion you couldn't imagine having to live without.

After a few minutes, he pulled out of you, sitting back on his heels while running a hand over his face and back through his hair to make it even more of a mess, giving you a view of his cock still dripping with cum and coated all the way down to its base with your cream.

He was a sight to behold, and you took care to drink him in, seeing his wheat-coloured pubes darkened and tangled from your wet, admiring the way his muscles looked both strong and fatigued as he recovered from his efforts.

He chuckled and flashed a crooked smile, catching you staring, but didn't rush to cover himself, instead yanking his trunks a little further down his powerful thighs.

Even he wasn't immune to the effects of the sun, having acquired a glow in spite of regimented applications of sunscreen, a stark line dividing his upper torso from where his golden hairs trailed down to paler skin, allowing you to feel the same sense of possessiveness he felt toward you in being the only one able to see what no one else could.

"Did you see enough of what you wanted?" he asked, adjusting his shorts to tuck his cock back in. "My ass is gonna get burnt."

You joined his laugh before embellishing your disappointment by sticking out your lower lip in a pout, "I'd be more than happy to rub some sunscreen on it," you offered, letting your hand trail up his abs that moved with his amusement.

"Oh, I bet you would be." His head nodded up and down as his eyebrows rose on his forehead, giving you a pointed look that made you melt every time.

"Join me for a dip?"

"Only if you lose your trunks," you countered, "It's not fair if I'm the only naked one."

He shook his head and huffed out a laugh as he stood and hooked his thumbs in his waistband, bending to peel them down to his ankles before standing proudly with his arms outstretched.

"Happy now?"

"Very."

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @glassgulls

[genderkoolaid]

It's honestly really validating to read your thoughts on butch identity. I kept myself from fully accepting I might be a gay trans man for a long time because being a butch woman was so integral to my identity (I wept after finishing Stone Butch Blues. It was like being seen for the first time) and I hated that it felt like there was no way I could be both. So I was sort of performing trans man comphet and trying to convince myself I liked women just so I wouldn't lose that word. There's so much gender nuance to being butch that I feel like gets lost when we only focus on the sexuality aspect of it.

"There's so much gender nuance to being butch that I feel like gets lost when we only focus on the sexuality aspect of it." Yes!!!!!!

I came out very young (elementary school) as a lesbian, and cut my long hair to a pixie in the same year. And then shortly after began realizing was I was trans as well. I spent essentially my entire life being visibly queer and visibly queer-masculine a lot of the time. And this affected so much, because I latched onto "butch" extremely young and that became my model for my gender. I never shaved largely because, due to reading about butches, I felt that it was part of my path, even though I also knew it distanced me from others. My sense of masculinity and masculine fashion has always been deeply butch, regardless of my gender. Its such a deep and integral part of me and has been my whole life. I truly feel that I can't not be butch. I don't relate to a lot of "female socialization" both due to being autistic and being visibly queer; I always knew that, while being categorized as "girl," I was also never going to be a "real girl," and everyone knew that. Becoming a butch adult felt more natural than puberty.

Which is why its so annoying that people center butchness on sexuality, and specifically romantic-sexual attraction to femmes!!!! Because while I have, in fact, dated femmes (arguably I dated too many cis femme women who I felt I had to walk on ice around to avoid scaring them with my butch gender), like I said, my butchness is a natural part of me. Being queer is a part of being butch, but the way we talk about butchness makes me feel like people can only view it existing in relation to romance (and femmes). And obviously because of radfeminism, trans men & mascs' unique relationships with butchness have been largely ignored in any way besides "I used to be butch, but now I'm a Normal Straight Man!" & also the general erasure of transmasculinity in lesbian history. Lesbian spaces have always been a haven for trans people, because for a long time in the West, your options were generally "move to a new town and go completely stealth for as long as possible" or "find your local lesbians and be a dyke within a community." There's a reason "butch" has always held so much gender nuance. Radclyffe Hall, who wrote the famous lesbian book The Well of Loneliness, has been argued to have been transmasculine- but the idea that butches may truly call into question the gender binary causes too much anxiety, so we have to constantly re-affirm that butches are above all else women. I'm a firm believer that butch4butch relationships have long been a way for gay trans men to indulge their desire for men within the context of lesbian identity (because all the trans guys are fucking each other and always have been).

Anyways. yeah. let butches exist beyond our sexuality. Understand that "butch" carries so much color and cannot be reduced down to a simple binary concept.

(Also anon, if you haven't, you should read this article about transmasculine comphet wrt gayness).

[cmncisspnandmore]

Troublesome feelings

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader

Warnings; Mentions of depression, sad, mentions of not eating.

Summary: Life when simon is away can be hard.

Beta Reader:

A/N: Hi, i wrote this during a really dark place. Its probably not that good but I needed it so I wrote it. In case someone else needs it too. Its unedited, and not beta read, so if there are mistakes im sorry. Honestly im just proud of myself for posting this.

The darkness that settled over the apartment was similar to the darkness that currently occupied every corner of your mind. The kind of darkness that made it hard to breathe, or move. The kind of darkness that caused tears to prick in your eyes but never fall. Because even crying at this point was too much effort. Everything was too much and not enough at the same time.

So you laid on the plush gray couch in the living room, the room void of all light except the small glow from the clock on the entertainment center. The only sounds were the neighbors, going about their days. Completely unaware of you being locked in your own personal hell. 

The clock blinks; 3:32pm, it had been hours since you moved. Almost an entire day since you had anything to eat or drink. The hunger had subsided a while ago, now nausea swirled in your gut. Making even the thought of food repulsive, not that you had any intention of getting up at all. You would gladly rot on this couch for the rest of your life if you could. 

You stare blankly at the light gray wall, the paint slightly chipped from the furniture banging up against it when you and Simon moved in.

You and Simon had been dating for almost a year when he asked you to move in with him, explaining that he never really used his apartment anyways. Between being away on a mission and training he was basically paying for a place to hold his furniture. You broke your lease on your flat and moved into Simons a month later. His apartment was pretty bare when you first moved in, only the essentials, a few dishes, a bed, a small uncomfortable couch and a kitchen table that looked like it had seen better days.

Simon had groaned when you made him go furniture shopping the first time, but he never argued with the choices you made. He would give you a nod of approval over the big items like the couch, and new kitchen table. But he allowed you to pick out all the other decor, even down to the throw pillows for the bed he didn't understand. The night the couch was delivered the delivery people didn't bring it into the apartment, they left it on the side of the road for you to figure out. So when you called Simon who was on his way home from the gym and told him about what happened he laughed. Then the two of you struggled to get the large item up the flight of stairs and into the new living room. It had gone fairly well until at some point the couch leg scraped against the wall leaving a white scratch on the light gray wall.

Now the scratch was nothing more than a reminder that 90% of the time you were alone here. Simon has been on missions more and more recently, leaving you alone in the apartment. Leaving you with your thoughts.

The same thoughts that often told you that the world was better off without you. 

That Simon was better off without you.

It was those thoughts that led you here. 

Laying on the couch, staring off into space.

You pull the throw blanket up over your head, blocking out the light of the clock. Cloaking you in complete darkness, the air under the blanket quickly becomes heavy and hot. Your lungs struggle to take in full breaths of the stifling air but you don't move. Letting the burn overtake everything else you were feeling.

This is how Simon found you when he came in a little after 5am. He was exhausted, his gear felt 100 pounds heavier than normal. After almost 3 months in the field, with little to no sleep every night, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with you. He wanted to pull you close to his chest, feel your soft skin against his. He drops his bag at the door and pulls off his tactical vest and drops it onto the empty kitchen counter. 

He pulls his handgun out of the holster and emptied the chamber and removes the magazine before he opens the hallway closet. He unlocks the safe in the bottom of the closet and places it inside. Once it's safely away in the safe, he unties his boots, and pulls off his skull balaclava before tossing it onto the counter. 

“Love?” He calls softly as he steps into the living room and sees you laying on the couch under the blankets. He comes to sit at what he hopes is your feet and gently tugs the blanket from your head. His hands drag across the soft material, as he slowly reveals your face. You looked as exhausted as he felt. 

“Lovie? Are you okay?” Simon's voice is soft as he reaches out and brushes some of your hair away from your face.

“How long are you home for?” You mumble, your voice is hoarse from the lack of use over the last few days. 

“A while.. Why?” Simon asks, his hands coming to rest on your hip, his fingers squeezing lightly.

“Are you sure? Or are you going to randomly be called away in the middle of the night without explanation, or contact for 3 months?” you whisper and Simon sighs softly.

“Baby, you know I have to go when they call. It’s part of my job, I'm sorry I wasn't able to contact you.. It was a need to know mission.. If i could have called you i would’ve… trust me hearing your voice would have been like a dream come true over hearing MacTavish’s loud mouth.” Simon leans back against the couch, his arm draped over the top as he watches you carefully. 

You let out a shaky breath, “I'm drowning here Simon…” 

“What do you mean love?” He asks, his brow laced with concern.

“I feel like I'm underwater, and no matter how hard I swim I can't get to the surface. Every time I get close it feels like something is waiting to just drag me right back down to the bottom. I’ve been laying here for days, barely moving because it feels like too much. Breathing is too much…” Your eyes fill with tears as you look at him, even in the terrible lighting he was still breathtakingly beautiful. 

You told him once he looked like an angel, and Simon had laughed, really laughed. He told you that angels didn't have scars like his. But you argued with him about it, saying that there was no way that they didn't have some sort of scars. Especially when they spent eternity protecting humans. Simon had sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to win that argument any time soon. 

“Why haven't you told me sooner?” Simon asks, as he fully pulls the blanket off you, and reaches under you and pulls you into his lap. He settles you on his lap, his arms wrapped around your middle, your head tucked under his chin.

“Because I didn't want you to worry while you were in the field,” 

“Of course I'm going to worry about you, I always worry about you. I just wish you told me you were feeling like this beforehand. I mean, Baby, it would kill me if something happened when I wasn't here…” SImons hands rub small circles on your waist.

“I need help Si..” you whisper, your throat tight with emotion.

“Then we’ll get you some help, Love. Okay? We’ll get you some help.” 

“Simon?” Your voice cracks.

“Yes Lovie?”

“I love you..” 

“I love you too, how about we go take a hot shower, and then make something to eat, and then we can take a long nap. And when we wake up we can call around and find you a doctor or someone to talk to, okay?” Simon pulls you impossibly closer.

“Okay..” you whisper and with that Simon puts his hands under your thighs and lifts you, walking you both towards the bathroom. He sets you down on the bathroom counter before he turns towards the shower. You watch as he adjusts the water to the right temperature then comes over, pulling his black shirt off in one smooth movement. His chest and abs are a rippling wall of muscle. If you were feeling better you would have jumped him right then and there. But even now, with Simon standing in front of you wearing his black jeans slung low on his hips. The only thoughts that flooded your brain was that this was the first shower you’d be taking in almost a week.

“Arms up, Baby,” Simon whispers, tugging at the bottom of the shirt you were wearing. You reluctantly put your arms up and Simon pulls your shirt off and unclasps your bra. Before he grabs your hips and pulls you off the counter, before he slides your shorts down. Once you are completely naked he guides you into the shower with a hand on your lower back. You step into the hot water and let it wash over you.

After a few moments Simon's large frame steps into the shower behind you, out of the corner of your eye you see him reach for the various soaps you have on the shelf. He grabs your shampoo and starts to massage it into your hair. He spends time rinsing your hair and then lathers a washcloth and spends more time than you do, making sure you’re thoroughly scrubbed. You stand under the hot stream as Simon makes quick work of washing himself before he turns off the water and grabs two towels. 

He wraps one around you and then wraps the second around his waist. Once you both are out of the shower he dries off quickly changing into a pair of black sweatpants and one his signature black hoodies. You start to dry yourself off, and change into a pair of your own sweatpants, and one of Simons’ black hoodies. 

Simon’s large hand rests on your lower back as he guides you into the kitchen towards the table where he pulls out a chair for you. As you take a seat you watch Simon walk over to the fridge and the cabinets, opening them before he turns to you.

“What do you want to eat?” He asks quietly, his hands resting on the back of the chair opposite of you.

“Something small… Toast? And maybe some blueberry tea?” You ask.

Simon gives you a small nod before going about fixing you something to eat, your attention turns to the window in the kitchen. The sun is starting to rise, the sky painted an orangey pink, the wispy clouds making it look like someone painted the scene. Why couldn't you just feel better? You felt guilty having Simon take care of you like this. You should be able to shower yourself, and make your own food. But the thought of even trying to do those things makes you want to curl back up on the couch. Hide away under the blankets again and never come out. 

Simon startles you when he places the plate of toast and cup of blueberry tea down in front of you. You had been lost in your thoughts and hadn’t heard him come over to the table. He sits across from you, his own breakfast in front of him, his plate piled with toast, and fruit. A large mug of black tea next to him. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, as you take a few bites of the toast.

“Of course, love.” 

You both sit in silence as you eat, it takes you longer to eat than Simon, his plate sits empty on the table as he sips his drink. His large hands covered most of the mug, obscuring the skull face pattern on it. You glance down at your half eaten toast and partially empty tea before pushing the dishes away, your stomach turning from finally eating after a few days.

“You done?” Simon asks, reaching for the dishes and stacking them on top  of each other.

“Yeah.. Sorry.. I just.. I can't eat anymore,” you whisper, looking down at your folded hands in your lap.

“It's okay, I'm proud of you for eating what you could,” he smiles as he clears the dishes.

Simon walks over to you after putting the dishes in the sink and takes your hand, his brown eyes soft as he smiles at you. “Let's go take a nap, yeah?” 

You give him a small nod as he pulls you to your feet and walks with you into the bedroom. He climbs into the bed under the covers and pulls them back for you, patting the bed next to him. You carefully climb in and he pulls you against him. His chest to your back, his head resting in the space behind your shoulder as he anchors his arm around your waist. You close your eyes, matching your breathing to his, and soon you both start to drift off. For the first time in what seems like forever, the world doesn't seem quite as dark. 

[maconthepen]

This took me a long time to figure out, but when I hate the words I'm writing, it's often because I'm trying to sound like someone else. The words don’t flow right when I’m thinking, "I wish I could write like X”, or "Why can't I do this like Y?"

While learning from other writers is essential, I also write like myself for a reason. In fact, I'm bad at writing any other way. That's why I’m so lukewarm about the words I put down when I'm in a mindset of comparison.

Anyway, I found myself in that place today, so I did two things. First, I stepped away from Scrivener for a while. I went for a cold winter walk and grabbed a cup of coffee. Then, I sat down and read something I wrote months ago. Something I was really proud of.

When I sat down at my laptop to pick up where I left off on today's writing, I felt like me again, and the flow was there. I was writing like myself again and falling back in love with the process of putting down words on a page.