#anyway hi hello tumblr i am still here

[waratteiru]

.

[roturo]

Written All Over Your Face dick grayson x reader

→ summary: “Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (don't be dumb and wrap it), enemies to lovers, heroe!reader, breeding kink, bulge kink ¿?, not proof-read, possessive behavior, begging...

words: 2k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being a heroe wasn't easy. Neither being considered a competition for Nightwing. The Ex-Robin. The Dick Grayson.

Both being ¨super-heroes¨ with no powers brought many controversial articles between you two, not only at the Gotham-Batman times, but also now at the new Titans times.

You never thought seeing him again and his boyish smile and attitude. No wonder why he has many girls falling for him, not only as Nightwing, but also as his real identity. But this rough times between the heroes, made the destiny bringing you together again.

Both of you had mutual friends, and when Dawn invited you to meet the new Titans, and asked you for help to train them, you never thought of seeing him again, neither of both of you training teenage kids how to become high quality-trained super heroes.

¨Sorry.¨ Were the last words you heard from Dawn, when she left you with bird boy at the training room, giving you an apologetic smile.

God bless her natural charm and being the trusting friend she is because you couldn't hit her face right now with the rage you're feeling.

¨Hi!¨ A green-haired boy said to you, he had the same, maybe not as pretty, boyish smile like Grayson. ¨Hello...?¨

¨Gar.¨ He told you, not putting down the smile.

With just a nod and a not so happy smile, your eyes moved into a purple-haired girl, who just smiled at you and said her name. ¨Rachel.¨ She hit the boy next to her with her elbow, murmuring his name.

¨Jason.¨ He said, ¨Is this your girlfriend Dick? Because she's pretty good looking for a guy like you. But yeah, what she's doing here anyways?¨

Oh. Yeah. Bird boy. He's here.

¨Yeah Grayson, what’s going on?¨ Completely ignoring the fact Dick was about to answer Jason’s question with furrowed brows and you obviously knowing why you're here since Dawn explained you. ¨And no, i'm not his girlfriend.¨ You looked at Jason with a smile which changed into a fake smile when your eyes returned to Dick. ¨He wishes.¨ You said, your head turning to the side, obviously trying to make him angry. At which he only scoffed, knowing you well enough to know what you were trying. ¨Yeah number two, maybe we can just pass at me explaining you why you´re here.¨

Number two? He WISHES.

¨I know why am I here. I don´t know if your little brain remembers you made Dawn bring me here to help you train this kids.¨ You got closer to him, not breaking eye contact. ¨And number two? pfft, If you were number one, maybe you wouldn't have been replaced by new Robin here.¨

That got him exactly where you wanted him. He might seem like a strong and rough guy, but behind all that image of big boy, there’s nothing else but trauma.

You couldn’t help but notice how his jaw clenched at the small giggle Jason let when you mentioned Dick being replaced. Side-eyeing him, Jason stopped. Dick sighed trying to calm himself down.

“First. I didn’t know Dawn brought you here, she just told me about bringing the perfect person to help me train them, I was not expecting you.” You could tell he was still angry at the remark, so he wanted to correct you. “Second. I didn’t got replaced. I left Wayne by choice of mine.”

“And third. I’m not longer Robin.”

It got into a really tense vibe between you and Dick trying to kill each-other with just your eyes, everyone in silence, clearly uncomfortable at this new encounter.

“Can both of you stop eye-fucking eachother and can we finally start the training?” Jason said, trying to bring both of you back to earth.

That clearly caught both of your attention to what Jason said, clearly annoyed at the wrong remark of how both of you were looking at each-other. “We’re not “eye-fucking” each-other Jason, stop getting into other’s people conversations.” With that, Dick started grabbing everything for the training of today, moving on. Jason just raised his arms at the air, (like when they’re showing they’re not armed), with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

That brought a hard, and big laugh to your face, how could Jason say that? This kids don’t even respect their “leader” This was going to be a funny training.

After what seemed like 1 hour of training, and getting to know the kids, you could get which were the flaws and weaknesses. Maybe you couldn’t understand quite well Rachel’s powers, but some time will do it.

You asked Gar where you could sleep the night, since it was already getting late and your most likely staying some days here, you'll also need some extra clothes at least for today.

Gar told you to stay in the spare room next's to Dick's, great, what a nice neighbor you have. He also gave you some clothes you could use tonight, tomorrow you could go back to your place and get some clothes, your skincare.... and I guess your super-hero suit.

When going out of the bathroom after a long shower (which you deserved), Dick was standing there, shirtless, all sweaty, and just with some grey sweatpants on... he looks.... nice, yeah. Obviously annoyed but when he saw you, his face turned into... panic?

He doesn't know what's happening to him right now, might be stress he needs to get relieved, yeah, sure, that's the reason he feels his pants getting tighter every-second he keeps looking at you right now.

¨Are you okay bird-boy why´re you just static over here, I know you have problems, but this a new one.¨ You looked up and down at Dick's figure, obviously checking him out, not like he needs to find out, noticing he´s quite handsome, not like you would tell him also, he's hot, and he knows it.

¨That´s... That´s my shirt¨ Was all that Dick could say, well, shit.

You knew the t-shirt had a distinct laundry soap scent which remind you of someone, and maybe a pint of perfume, but who could blame you?! Might be Gar's or Jason's!

¨And those... are my boxers.¨ double shit.

You could see he was obviously blushed and you're sure you are too, but what a coincide. It's like you could hear Rachel, Gar and Jason's laughing at the both of you.

¨Well... do want me to give them back at you?¨ You broke the tense silence, trying to take your, his, shirt-off, completely forgetting you're in front of him, you needed to find a way out of here.

¨No, no, no, stop! Leave it there, then you give it back to me.¨ He assured you, grabbing your hands and pulling them down with your, his? t-shirt. ¨And it looks better on you anyways.¨ That's all he said before speed entering to the bath-room.

¨Hey Dick!, Wait.¨ To say you couldn't feel the wetness of your pussy going out and asking for some relief, would be considered a crime. ¨What do you ne-¨ You cut him off by entering the bath-room closing the door in the process, both of your lips connecting in a perfect symphony like they were made for each-other. He left a sudden whine at the loss of the soft touch of your lips.

¨Oh.¨ Was all he could say, you don't understand what happened to you, it wasn't definitely a normal behavior between you two. ¨Oh my god. I'm so sorry Dick, I don't know what happened to me, i'm-¨ You couldn't finish the last sentence when you felt his lips in yous again. A little hesitant this time, he stops, unsure of his actions, but he lose it all. ¨Do it again.¨

That's all he needed to continue kissing you, hands caressing you neck, positioning them as a chocking posture, later going to trace your jaw as he continues kissing you.

He started giving you kisses trailing down your chin, making you moan at the specific spot that made your legs shake, he started leaving love bites between your chest, later going down on you, pulling your t-shirt upwards, getting between your breasts and marking them as his.

¨Please Dick... Please make me feel good.¨ It´s like something got into him when his hands started roaming your body like crazy, pulling your shirt off, your hand reaching his sweatpants, and later his cock, noticing he has no underwear under neat it. ¨It's like you were ready for this bird-boy, ah!-¨ Even when you try to tease him, he finds a way to tease you back even in a better way, his fingers playing with your nipple had you giddy and trembling. ¨Be a good girl if you want me to fuck you.¨

All you could do is nod and start stroking his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum which made the stroking easier, playing with the head had him as a moaning mess.

“Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” He left a whiny moan at the lose of your touch.

“Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” He man-handled you, turning you around, making you see yourself at the mirror.

“…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.”  He ripped apart the boxers you were wearing. ¨Don't worry, I have plenty more.¨ Fuck him and his fucking pretty smile.

With no more waiting, he positioned himself, and started thrusting into you. He fits just right, and could touch all the places you couldn't reach.

“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” Even when he's fucking your brains out, he finds a way to be that kind and nice guy he is.

“O-Okay.”  Was all you could tell him, before & after some moans and whines from both of you, one specific thrust had you seeing stars.

His hand lingered down your tummy and he moaned at the bump he could feel, when he was going in and out with his thrusts. ¨Oh baby, I'm going to make you mine, fill you up.¨

He started playing with your clit, it had you crazy all the feelings of his body, his thrusts, him.

¨´You´re so good for me, all for me... 'm gonna' fill you up with my babies, 'm gonna make you a mommy, full of my cum every-day just to make sure.¨

That was all you needed to cum, with just some last thrusts he came inside you too, fulfilling his promise of keeping you full of his cum. He waited for you to calm down, before he inserted two of his fingers, recollecting the cum that was falling out your hole, inserting it inside you again, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

He got the tub ready, and got you inside it, in front of him while he cleaned your sore body while kissing it.

¨I can't believe it took me all this years to realize how I feel about you.¨ Your heart was anxious at how your confession would be received.

¨Doesn't take an idiot to figure out. You couldn't tell I was and I am in love with you because you were too busy trying to beat all that rivalry. I was in love the moment you kicked my ass for the first time.¨

You chuckled at the confession, and laid your head on his shoulder where you could see his dumb smirk. ¨You have that stupid smirk on your face again, can't you have a serious conversation with me?, can we fight again?¨

He laughed at your comment ¨Not a possible thing for me when you look this cute all marked by me and confessing your feelings for me.¨ The small pecks he started leaving on your neck and back had you giggling.

¨I love you.¨

¨I love you too, bird-boy.¨

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Clownfall: Endgame - Hello December

I am late writing and posting this, because it's nearly the end of term and I am mega busy (I have leave in two days and I am counting the hours...) BUT some stuff happened last week so let's dig in!

Also quick note before we do: I would like to politely request that you stop tagging this with "England" or "English politics". This is about British politics, not just England, and I am not English. Please do not erase me it takes SO LONG to write these thank you all and goodnight anyway ON WITH THE SHOW

Saturday, 25 November

12.01am

We begin our tale with Oliver Wright of the Times, who reports that … no hang on, wait, I've fucked it, okay. To understand this story, you first need to understand Simon Case.

Simon Case is a civil servant, and current Cabinet Secretary and head of UK Civil Service

He was the highest ranking public official implicated in the Partygate scandal, though he didn’t resign nor was he fined

In the Telegraph’s published WhatsApp messages from Partygate in which Tories all chatted to each other (seriously HOW do those keep getting leaked), Case made fun of holidaymakers stuck in hotel rooms by Covid regulations

In the same messages he also described some opposition to Covid restrictions as “pure Conservative ideology”, which is. An Own Goal

He also described BlowJo as a “nationally distrusted figure” whose isolation rules the public were unlikely to follow, which is true but also the Quiet Part

This information is from Wikipedia, which I’m openly admitting here, so my esteemed colleague hbomberguy can stand down.

Why am I mentioning him! Well. Case was supposed to give evidence to the Covid inquiry in October this year, but didn’t because of medical leave (ironically). In November, he still wasn’t back (should have isolated better, eh, Si), and the inquiry was given private medical information relating to Case (presumably evidence that he’s not just faking it so he doesn't have to be shouted at by angry judges and MPs and that).

So! On Saturday the 25th, eighteen and a half hours before Beep the Meep’s spectacular TV debut, Oliver Wright of the Times reports that Simon Case – uh, before his medical leave - advised Prime Minister Rishi Sunak that he should authorise pre-election talks between the civil service and Labour. Sunak - I suspect obviously - ignored this suggestion, in case it signalled that an election is now imminent.

According to Wright, it’s now questionable whether Case will ever return to his role.

Shame.

Monday, 27 November

2.44pm

House of Commons time! Let's see what our elected representatives are up to.

Tory MP Jill Mortimer says international treaties written 70 years ago "are not fit for purpose" to tackle illegal immigration, so we need to return to the "Deport the browns to Rwanda" plan. Ugh.

2.50pm

The following was reported by Matt Dathan of the Times, so CALL OFF YOUR DOGS hbomberguy.

James Cleverly – the newest Home Secretary, chappie who described another MPs constituency as a shithole in the House of Commons in his second week on the job – says the Rwanda policy isn’t the “be all and end all”.

Robert Jenrick – the Minister of State for Immigration – says the policy is an "extremely important component" of the government's small boats policy.

So! James Cleverly and Robert Jenrick disagree on this matter! Exciting! Hey, Tumblrs, just for fun...

Let’s remember those two names.

2.58pm

Robert Jenrick says boat crossings have been reduced by more than a third in the last year, but that numbers are still unacceptably high.

FUN SELF-STUDY ACTIVITY: Take a moment to form an opinion of Robert Jenrick! It’ll be worth it.

Here is some information to get you started: Jenrick this year ordered some lovely murals of cartoon characters (Mickey Mouse, Tom and Jerry, etc) to be painted over at a children’s asylum centre in Kent. His explicit reason is because he thought they were "too welcoming" for lone refugee children arriving in the UK, and such children should not feel welcome here.

Have you formed your opinion yet? Then I'll continue.

8.13pm

Rishi Sunak cancels a meeting with the Greek Prime Minister in a row over the Elgin Marbles.

Uh, there's a lot going on here - this is about the stolen marble frescoes that should be in the Parthenon in Athens, that gross British thief Lord Elgin stole decades ago and plonked into the British Museum. Greece has been asking for them back ever since, but a small handful of old white men who are in charge of the British Museum don't want to give them back and keep stating that Greece wouldn't look after them properly, which is a hell of a claim given that Elgin literally broke one when he nicked them, and also, he fucking stole them. Anyway, it turns out to the surprise of no one that Sunak also doesn't think we should give them back, and so when the matter was raised in an Anglo-Greek meeting recently Sunak literally walked out of it, even though the meeting was actually about something else.

So HERE HE IS refusing to do any diplomacy with Greece now i.e. his actual fucking job.

This is a big deal for the immigration-obsessed though! According to a Labour source, Greece is an essential ally for any agreement on illegal migration.

And even the Prime Minister’s supporters think he’s got this one wrong.

Wednesday, 29 November

Prime Minister’s Questions!

This is the (televised) point in the week where the PM has to appear in the Commons and be grilled by anyone who wants to put the boot in about anything at all. Keir Starmer decides today is the day to do some actual opposition, pushes Sunak on several fronts, and pretty much everyone reckons this is Starmer’s best ever performance at PMQs. People especially enjoy Starmer calling Rishi the “man with the reverse Midas touch”.

This is not, strictly speaking, actually funny. But it's political humour, which is like office humour. It doesn't actually have to be.

12.22pm

A former cabinet member tells the press that the Greek government are furious at Sunak’s snub. Uh oh!

Thursday, 30 November

Disgraced former Secretary of State for Health and all round human 1950s meat blancmange Matt Hancock talks to the Covid inquiry today. Specifically, to explain why he, the then-Secretary of State for Health, led the government so badly in the pandemic that we developed the second highest death rate in the world. To hear him tell it, he was an underdog hero doing his best to fight a toxic culture at Whitehall to get the pandemic handled responsibly.

The only problem with this is that it is contradicted by everyone else’s accounts.

He is called a “proven liar” who was “unfit for the job” by proven liar and unfit for his job Dominic Cummings. Former civil servant Helen MacNamara says Hancock displayed “nuclear levels” of overconfidence and said lots of things that later turned out to be untrue. Sadly for HandCock, he said these things to cameras that were recording him onto the telly, and so we do actually know.

Monday, 4 December

Keir Starmer talked about the economy today. He won’t rule out cutting public services, and it looks like he’s trying to tell disenfranchised Tory voters to jump ship to Labour.

Hope it’s a bluff! Very depressing if he’s serious. This is nowhere near as much fun as Tories being humiliated.

21.47pm

GOOD NEWS EVERYONE!

(This is from the Mirror, you can’t destory me on your YouTube.)

Labour MP Diana Johnson proposes an amendment to the Victims and Prisoners Bill to compensate thousands of patients infected with HIV and hepatitis C through contaminated blood products in the 70s and 80s, to the tune of billions of pounds.

And it WON!  Narrowly – 246 votes to 242.  A huge deal, because that includes 23 Tory backbenchers.  That is very bad for Rishi Sunak. He he he.

Tory MP Edward Argar had tried to sort this in adance, by saying the government would provide their own similar amendment to the bill.  Basically, he realised this was a controversial bill for the party, and wanted to present a version that could be a Tory victory rather than a Labour victory and Tory humiliation.

Didn’t work.

And neither did a THREE LINE WHIP for Tory MPs to vote against the Labour plan?!?? YES KIDS YOU READ THAT RIGHT Sunak didn't want people infected with HIV and hepatitis C through contaminated blood products in the 70s and 80s to receive compensation in case it made him look bad, so he imposed a three line whip to force Tories to vote against it.

And 23 of them rebelled.

And now he looks even worse.

Lol.

Tuesday, 5 December

Have you done your homework, Tumblrs? Have you remembered those names? Have you formed an opinion?

7.38am

Home Office minister and children's cartoon hater Robert Jenrick is interviewed on Sky News.  It’s ugly stuff.  He refers to small boats “[breaking] in” to the UK.  He insists asylum seekers WILL start being deported to Rwanda before the next General Election.  And generally does big talk about cutting immigration.

What a hero.

1.27pm

James Cleverly is in Rwandan capital Kigali, as the UK signs a new treaty designed to help score the Supreme Court’s approval for the Rwanda plan.

1.40pm

So!

Cleverly’s doing pretty much what he said he’d do.  He’s trying to legislate to make the Rwanda plan safer, rather than try to disapply human rights treaties. This, of course, is the Sensible Plan, if your plan is still to get people killed, but you want it to actually succeed.

But former Home Secretary Cruella Braverman is driving a load of Tories to push to disapply human rights obligations – and she’s joined in this by Robert Jenrick!!!!

That’s RIGHT!  Hope you remembered his name, because now he’s a VILLAIN!  Or, well, more of one, and in a more immediate way. After disagreeing with Cleverly in the commons on 27 November, he’s joined Team Suella.  Tonight he’ll be part of a meeting between three different right-wing groupings...

1.46pm

The new treaty guarantees that, if these plans go ahead, asylum seekers won’t be returned to countries where their lives or freedom are threatened, and creates a requirement for an independent monitoring committee.

This treaty would be great if we lived in a world where the Supreme Court trusted the Rwandan government to honour treaty obligations.  But we live in the world where NOT having this trust was part of the reason the Supreme Court ruled the plans unlawful.

Even if this wasn’t the case, we still need new legislation, and that’ll be way more controversial than this new treaty.  The legislation was said to be ready by Thursday, which is a very short turnaround that only a lunatic would believe, but in a SHOCK DISAPPOINTING U-TURN the government now refuses to commit to this.

In any case...

This is causing cracks in the Tory party.

10.33pm

The Parliament's Christmas tree lights are turned on! 

It goes as well as anything else in Parliament:

A visual representation of the Tory Party schism.

Wednesday, 6 December

8.21am

Boris Johnson arrives at the covid inquiry.  He will be questioned for two days.

He he he

10.26am

Johnson is asked why around 5,000 WhatsApp messages were lost on his phone from January to June 2020.

Steffan made this brilliant meme. Please do not grass me up to hbomberman.

11.33am

It’s clear by now that Johnson wasn’t alert to the danger of covid by February 2020.  Johnson says it wasn’t declared a pandemic by WTO yet, and he wasn’t asked about it in PMQs. Gosh! What a good point, maybe!

Until the KC points out a troubling fact: “You were the Prime Minister.”

Ah. Yes. PMQs are irrelevant, you see – the Prime Minister is allowed information that the opposition aren’t. 

And, indeed, he probably would have had, if he'd actually attended the five Cobra meetings about it that would have briefed him on it just as the virus was being discovered.

12.49pm

2.24pm

I’m skipping most of this stuff, since it’s normal lies and non-specific apologies from BJ.

But this one’s interesting.  Matt HandCock claimed he told Johnson on 13 March to call a lockdown.  There’s no written evidence of this happening.  Johnson outright contradicts it.

Lol

5.43pm

Cruella Braverman rejects Sunak’s Rwanda bill.  It fails the five tests she claimed his bill would need to pass.

These are tests she made up and published in a newspaper, I should stress, like they don't exist and she is not an authority. This is a bit like if I marched into your house, dear reader, and went "You are not allowed to celebrate the holidays this year because I personally said you have to pass my tests first and you haven't", and I'm pretty sure if I tried that you would drop me in a bin and laugh at me.

But, she has many supporters on the Tory right...

5.48pm

The Sun’s political correspondent says that if the Lords try to block emergency legislation, some Tory MPs reckon Sunak should call an election, fighting on Rwanda.

I desperately want this.  I DESPERATELY want this. They’ll lose that election so badly. SO badly. God, likes charge reblogs cast.

6.53pm

The villain Robert Jenrick … RESIGNS!

Oh no!  This is not good news if you’re the Prime Minister.

Fucking fantastic for the rest of us, though

7.26pm

Jenrick publishes his resignation letter on Twitter.  It’s two pages long, claiming the PM’s Rwanda plan basically won’t work.

Jenrick’s not wrong about that, but I speak as someone who doesn’t want any version of the Rwanda plan – not the monstrous Sunak one, and certainly not the hypermonstrous Braverman one. Good. Thanks for confirming, Darth Bell-end.

8.31pm

I enjoyed this tweet.

8.52pm

Sunak writes back to Jenrick, claiming the new plan WILL work.

Which is not normally what happens?!? Normally they yell about their current madness in a letter, publish it on Twitter because no one else cares or will agree, and get roundly ignored. But, desperate times! Here, Sunak’s challenge is to try to win over the Tories who don’t believe in his ability to deliver the plan.  It’s a big ask.

So what are we left with?

10.37pm

A senior figure on the Tory right is asked whether their side will kill Sunak’s bill. 

And they’re not sure! If it’s the only offer on the table, it seems sensible to vote for it. 

BUT the right wing of the Tories aren’t famously very sensible.  They’ll probably try and add amendments at the very least, but it’s genuinely possible they’ll reject it out of spite, because they are LUNATICS.  Or as a political move to weaken Sunak.

And that's what you missed in the Tory Civil War!

(Up to last week)

[fangweaver2099]

𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

PART 2

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.” 

You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.

You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.

His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.

The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.

His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine? 

You tab back into his chat.

“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM

 10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”  

“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”  

“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”

“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”  

“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”  

“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”  

“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”  

“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM

 10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if  I was preying on little girls.”

You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”  

“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”

“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM

 10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”

“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM

 10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either. 

“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM

 10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”  

“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”  

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “That’s not a joke.” 

You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap. 

“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM

 10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “What is your thing, Fawn?”

“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM

 10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”

“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:38 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”  

“Of course.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”  

“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:42PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”  

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”  

“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

 10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”  

“Okay.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:45 PM

You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.

“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:55 PM

 10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ” 

You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.

“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.” 

“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.

“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”

“I have. Aren’t those expensive?”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”

“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.” 

“Glad to hear that.” -   Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

“...So…”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”

For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces. 

“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”

“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” -  Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I can’t say I do.”

“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”

“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”

“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.

“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

 11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Not at all a wrong answer.”

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”

“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”

“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.”   - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

 11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.” 

“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”

“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:04 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”

“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.” 

“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”

“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”

“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.” 

“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth   - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You’re not hard to read.”

“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”  

“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”

“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”

“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Were they not interested in this?”

“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “And if you fall for me?”

“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”

“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” 

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.” 

With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.

“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”  

“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”

“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.” 

“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?” 

“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”

“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?” 

“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."  

You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears. 

You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god. 

Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good." 

Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username. 

Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ” 

You blush.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello again! I’m so glad my prompt inspired you! I really enjoyed the first part of “Admiring from Afar” and I look forward to seeing what happens next! 😊

Admiring from Afar Pt 2 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Author note: Thank you so much anon! I am so glad you enjoyed it! I hope everyone likes this part as much as the last one- I wasn't expecting the last one to get so many notes! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and shared Part 1- it truly means the world to me!!!

Tag-list: @hyperfixationwhore, @ophelias-flowerss, @support-local-bands, @kahelis

CW: Broken bones and reparing them, minor violence, angst (?)

Picture belongs to silverformymonsters on Tumblr.

*I have only proof read this once.

If you missed part one- find the link below:

Here's the link you little weirdo

Your screams of pain rattle through camp for what feels like hours. Halsin had told everyone that resetting your bones and putting them together again would not be a pleasant or easy process. Astarion is pacing outside his tent- fists clenching and unclenching as he watches Wyll talk to Karlach by the fire.

Shadowheart and Halsin had kicked Astarion out of your tent an hour ago when they began setting your compound fracture- you had woken up with your mouth open in a silent scream and tears pouring down your face. Astarion regrets threatening Halsin’s life- he wants to be in there with you. He knows he would still feel helpless, but at least he could try to comfort you. It would be more than what Wyll is doing anyway.

 Astarion’s head snaps towards the campfire when Wyll lets out a bellowing laugh at something Karlach has said. Astarion walks up to Wyll and Karlach mindlessly- only one goal in mind.

 Karlach notices him and gives him a sad smile, “Hey fangs-”

  Karlach’s sentence starts as fast as it stops.

 Astarion’s fist collides with Wyll’s face- making the other man fall flat on his back from the force of the punch. Astarion is feeling borderline feral and based on the fearful, angry look in Wyll’s good eye, Wyll knows he is about to snap too.

  Astarion goes to punch him again, but is abruptly pulled backwards by Karlach.

 “Wow there,” Karlach says with a nervous chuckle, “I know tensions are high right now- but I’m going to have to call a party foul on you, Fangs.” 

 “Let me continue spoiling the party then,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Wyll stands back up and holds the tip of his short sword to Astarion’s throat.

"Hells Wyll, is that really necessary," Karlach groans.

Wyll ignores her- his eyes peering menacingly back into Astarion's.

  “What in the hells did I even do to you, Spawn?” Wyll asks hotly, fire burning behind his eyes.

 “Me!?” Astarion scoffs,” It’s what you didn’t do for Tav! Do you make a point of letting every person you bed get nearly slaughtered, almighty Blade of Frontiers?”

 Wyll’s anger turns to confusion and then his face lights up with clarity.

 “Astarion,” Wyll says slowly, “I didn’t bed Tav. In fact, they rejected me because, and I quote, ‘I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.’” 

   Astarion feels all the strength and anger leave his body after Wyll’s statement. Karlach lets him go and he wordlessy walks back to his tent. 

  He sits down amongst the pile of pillows and pulls out your broken glasses from his pocket. He thumbs the crooked metal as he starts to connect the dots. 

  He had only seen the kiss, but he hadn’t stayed for the aftermath of the kiss. If he had just waited five more seconds, maybe, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now. His jealousy and insecurities had won out over everything the two of you had together.

He isn’t just a body to you- someone to appease your sexual appetite while you romance every person in camp.

You weren’t upset because you had been caught.

 You had genuinely been on the verge of tears due to him unceremoniously dumping you. Astarion didn’t even give you a chance to speak-to defend yourself. Instead, he specifically stole the words right out of your mouth which was something he makes a point of not doing. He packed up all of your belongings faster than he’s ever done anything before. He told you to leave. Leave- in the coldest voice he could have used. He rendered you heartbroken and speechless all in one conversation. Right after you had so sweetly called him “Star” and just rejected a man who was a far more appropriate option for you than him.

  Astarion had assumed you were as tired as you were because you had stayed up all night with Wyll. He buries his face in his hands as more realizations come to the forefront of his mind. 

  You were tired because you had spent the whole night terrified, alone, and in the cold. Heartbroken and Homesick in that horrible tent of yours that you never ended up replacing because you didn’t have to. Would never need to again. 

  He was your protector, your piece of happiness in this scary place, and he turned on you. 

  Astarion begins to feel ill and tears prick his eyes as another tearful scream rips through the air. He had inadvertently left you out for the slaughter and your misery right now is his fault alone. 

  A knock on the wood of his tent jolts him from his thoughts. He gets up and is shocked to see Karlach standing at the entrance of his tent. Astarion tries to hide the nervousness he’s feeling- he really is hoping that punch didn’t earn him a stake.

 “Don’t look so nervous Fangs,” she offers him an easy smile,” I just came to check on you. I know you guys are close and that was a hell of a shiner you left on Wyll.”

  Astarion looks away from Karlach’s friendly face and tries to blink away the tears threatening to spill down his face.

 “I appreciate you checking in one me, but I can assure you that-”

 “You’re fine? That you’re not suffering? Cause I sure am! Tav is like family to me and I regret not rushing over to help them” Karlach pauses and when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “It’s okay if you aren’t okay. It’s not some secret that you are in love with Tav or they you. We all can see how much you love each other.”

   “In love?” Astarion whispers

 Lae’zel pipes up from next door, “It’s disgustingly clear to everyone but you. You even bed them like you are in love with them. You humans have strange mating rituals. Added note- please keep it down. Some of us sleep.”

  Astarion stares at Lae’zel blankly- not sure what he’s supposed to take from that statement as Lae’zel turns to go to bed. Karlach coughs uncomfortably and chuckles.

   “After the tiefling party,” she smiles ruefully, "they showed me that necklace they made for you and I knew they were smitten.”

  Astarion stares at Karlach in confusion and Karlach’s eyes go wide with realization.

  “What Necklace?”

 “Necklace? Hm weird Astarion, why are you so hyperficated on necklaces SHEEESHH. If you want a necklace so bad, just go buy one. Better yet I’ll buy one for you. No, SIX!” 

   Astarion goes to protest when Karlach interrupts him again.

 “Anyway, I know you have their glasses and I was thinking about taking them to Dammon and seeing if he can fix them. I’ll get that necklace you are so worried about while I’m there too.”

  He rolls his eyes at the tiefling- it’s obvious that she is not willing to elaborate about the necklace and he’s sure this is news that he’d much rather hear from you anyway. Also, Astarion is well aware of Karlach’s massive, horny (She asked him for advice once, never again) crush on the blacksmith and he knows that she will take every opportunity she can to see him. The fact that she also gets to help you at the same time is probably a bonus for her. Astarion hands Karlach the glasses after making her promise to keep them safe. 

   Astarion sighs before making the trek over to your tent- each step feeling heavier than the other.  Shadowheart steps out of your tent right as he’s about to knock on the wooden beams that hold up your mediocre hovel. 

  “They are asking for you,” she says tiredly.

  “Shadowheart,” he pauses, “ I owe you one for helping them and being patient with… me when I yelled at you and Halsin before.”

  “Huh, that sounded dangerously close to a ‘Thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry’, Astarion,” Shadowheart teases as she walks by him, “love has made you soft.”

  There’s that word again. Maybe that is what he’s been feeling towards you this whole time, but he can’t be for sure. He would have to explore these feelings later when he is less stressed, tired, and desperate to be near you. 

  He crawls into your dimly lit tent and you are meekly sitting upright, looking at him expectantly. He immediately sits down in front of you and gently cups your face in his hands. He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, then he kisses your lips.

Astarion takes his time kissing you, pulling you into his lap so that he can support your weak, healing body. Warm tears are streaming down your checks by the time he pulls away. You let out a hiccup as you go to speak- effectively surprising both of you. Astarion chuckles as he traces circles with his fingers on your back.

  “Yo-uu like me aga-in?” you hiccup between tears.

   Well that broke him.

  “Darling, I never stopped,” he states matter-of-factly while he wipes away your tears.

 “Then why?” 

  Astarion takes a deep breath before starting.

  “I saw Wyll kiss you, but I didn’t stay to get the whole picture,” his voice coming out sheepishly, “I didn’t think I was capable of experiencing so many uncomfortable feelings at one time; Well, until that happened.”

  Astarion feels his own tears begin to go down his cheeks, “I didn’t want you to hurt me so I hurt you first. I am so sorry, my Love. I understand if you wish for me to go.” 

    Your hands make their way into his hair, gently detangling it and then you move to his tear stained face and kiss the tears away. Lovingly, you use your hands to bring his eyes to yours and Astarion leans into your touch. 

  “It’s okay my Star, I understand. However, I will never forgive you if you leave me.," you pause," Again.”

      He barks out a laugh, “then I guess I can never leave your side?”

   “Silvanus, no,” you wrinkle your nose in the most endearing way, “I have no desire to have the ever loving crap kicked out of me again.”

 “And I share that sentiment- I would prefer you never have the ‘ever loving crap kicked out’ of you again.”

  You slap his arm softly at his mpression of you and you erupt in giggles. Astarion can’t help but smile up at you. The warmth in his chest is absolutely undeniable. You, the bewitchingly good-natured thing that you are, have taken up all the space in his cold, dead heart. You have stood by him through everything and now you have forgiven him as easily as you had walked away from him when he told you to. He doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. As incredible as you. 

  Astarion knows in his gut that he is going to have to talk to you about his initial intentions, then he will give you his feelings served up on a silver platter. If you reject him, he definitely deserves it. But by the Gods does he want you to return his feelings and be able to look past his previous motives.

  For now though, he’s going to pretend like none of that is around the corner. He'll pretend that he does deserve this- deserve you.

  Astarion is going to just let himself bask in your grandeur and shower you with all the affections his actions had stolen from you both over the last 24 hours. 

  You are smiling at him and then a flash of remembrance crosses your face- prompting you to pop up out of his lap and ungracefully crawl towards your pack. Astarion watches you with curiosity and amusement as you throw items out of the bag, cursing, and grumbling “whereeee areee youuuuu????” 

          ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  You look back at him awkwardly, “The whole not having my glasses thing is a real bummer, but I promise you that this neuroticism has purpose.” 

 “Oh don’t worry about that Darling, if your neuroticism hasn’t scared me off yet, it certainly won’t now.”

 You roll your eyes at him and return to digging through your pack until you feel the pouch at the very bottom of the bag.  With an “Aha!” you twist around and crawl back to Astarion and sit in front of him(in criss-cross applesauce obviously). Astarion pouts as you push his arms away when he tries to pull you back on to his lap. 

  “I will sit on your lap all night and never leave if that is what you desire, but I insist that you must open this first.” 

 You hand him the black pouch with the necklace inside. You are practically bouncing in anticipation as he unfolds the silk handkerchief, revealing the necklace. 

  Astarion looks up at you with an unreadable expression (you literally can't fucking see) and then down at the necklace. You anxiously play with your hands.

  “It’s a- uh, well. You had been upset about Gale and the invisibility necklace so I made you one out of Oxen bone,” you ramble, “I know it’s not really your style, but I tried to make it a little bit shiny. It allows you to become invisible- I tested it out myself. Oh and I picked Cadaith for the design because the rune’s meaning reminds me of you- grace, power, and music of the stars….”

  You are blue in the face from your spiel and Astarion still hasn’t looked up from the necklace.

  Gods he must really hate it. 

   Astarion clears his throat and wipes his eyes. He grabs one of your hands, gently sliding his thumb over your knuckles before planting a soft kiss on each of them.

 “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he puts the necklace on and then continues, “thank you my love, it’s the most wonderful thing I own.”

   You beam and lean forward to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, due to not having your glasses, you miss abysmally and kiss his nose- both of you chuckling as he guides your lips to his. As you pull back, a gust of bone chilling wind comes in through one of the holes in your tarp. You shiver involuntarily and  Astarion glares at you, unamused, as you scratch the back of your head while adorning an awkward smile.

 “Speaking of things that I own,” Astarion’s now teasing grin giving away his irritated facade, “I would be honored if you would move back into my tent with me.” 

  You feel your grin stretch from ear to ear and you quickly roll up your bed roll. You follow Astarion out of your tent and take his hand when he offers it to you. You walk with him across the clearing- Karlach whoops, whistles, and cheers as you walk by the fire. You stifle your laughter as Astarion pulls you into his tent. He grabs your bedroll and throws it to the side.

Astarion lifts you up and puts you lying flat on his bed roll. Astarion kisses you deeply, coaxing a moan from your lips. He pulls back and looks at you- you huff in frustration. Astarion begins to kiss along your jawline and down your neck. You can see his eyes to some extent, but the rest of him is a no go.

 “You didn’t happen to recover my glasses did you?”

You feel Astarion freeze before slowly bringing his face back up to yours.

  “Don’t worry my dear, it’s already being taken care of," he says, then whispers, "by Dammon.”

  Your stomach drops all the way to your ass. Your ears grow hot with rage and Astarion begins to kiss your face relentlessly- trying to unfurl the fury settling into your features. You can tell he is trying to hold back his laughter at your painfully cute, but angry expression.

 “What do you mean the blacksmith is taking care of my glasses?”

[dear-ao3]

the 2024 formula 1 silly season and drama master post, part 2 (part 1 here)

Hello and welcome to ah fucking fuck auto caps fuck fuck fuck how do i turn off auto caps AHA there we go okay. take 2

hello and welcome to the great and very insane formula 1 2024 season drama post, part 2. if you are new here or are just looking for part one (which contains the previous 16 (?) races, the off season, pre season testing and everything else, that can be found HERE. (a word to the wise: open it in a browser, not the app, and preferably on a computer to avoid crashing. its fucking long). 

what the hell is formula 1? car go fast. fastest cars in the world zoom around tracks at top speeds of over 300kph, piloted by the top 20 drivers in the world. it might not sound dramatic, but oh man. you will Not be disappointed. this post focuses on the drama, the insanity, the sheer what the hell how is this a serious sport. no legitimately. we've just about seen it all this year. grindr, dogs, watersports, ice cream brands, its all here.

the point of this post? to educate, to catalog the insane drama, and to just have a good time. people like to gatekeep this sport, there is also a lot happening. i try to make it easy to understand. again, probably best to start at the beginning of the post because it does a pretty good job of explaining things, which i began way back in january, and can be found HERE (again, shes long, be careful)

and, as usual, if you do not want to see this post EVER AGAIN, block the tag #saph explains silly season 2024

and a second caution, i assume this post will be getting long as well. including this one we have minimum 9 updates left!

anyway, those of you who have been following along the whole time, welcome back! i know we got a little delayed. and i know we’re on a new post, so lets just briefly take a second for me to explain what the fuck happened. first i had an anatomy test, second i work 2 jobs with fuck ass hours, third tumblr decided to stop letting me look at any of my drafts, fourth tumblr support ghosted me about the drafts issue and the post was half saving half not so i just decided fuck it, were going with post 2, electric boogaloo, and fifth, i decided to start typing this instead in a google docs so. many changes. if you're new here i am usually more on top of this.

but here we are. were back on street circuits. we’re in baku, azerbaijan, for the start of the last third of the season. 8 races remain, world championship titles are still within grasp of multiple people. the drama is dramaing. and today is september 22, 2024 and lets fucking go. 

first and foremost, on account of the fact that this post is late (again, see above), were going to have to do a bit of a speed run. if you're new here, i promise that this is not representative of my normal dedication to the update post. and for those asking, yeah, ill probably compile it somewhere better than a tumblr post after its all said and done, but we don't have time for that now. 

what we do have time for is the Off Week (and like some of the media stuff). and it was filled with silliness: 

george russell decided to wear what can only be described as slightly ugly yellow short shorts with his taylor swift shirt that he got at the eras tour. this was baffling for several reasons, the main reason being that i don't think the internet knew that he was capable of wearing a graphic t shirt

fernando alonso got his aston martin valkyrie finally. in case you are unfamiliar, a valkyrie i think is the worlds fastest street legal car. he posted tweets about this that made it seem like he wanted to fuck the car. hilariously, the car broke down an hour later.

we also had the very thrilling conclusion to grill the grid. oscar won and he somehow managed to look more pleased about his grill the grid win than his first race victory. 

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nico rosberg went to the green awards and he wore a fantastically insane teal blue suit. yes i know hes not a current driver. but you all like hearing about him so ask and you shall receive. unfornunately i cant find a picture of it though

and also not a current driver is mick schumacher, but my roommate asked me to include that he was seen on his girlfriends instagram being bad at golf. like. exceptionally bad at golf. like he hit a tree 20 feet in front of him.

also playing golf was lando norris. except he managed to look like try bolton from high school musical 2.

he also talked about the world driver championship with his friend max fewtrell while they were playing golf. unfortunately i lost this link in the sea of technical difficulties, but the gist of it was that he was saying that there is still hope for him to beat max in the championship (hes about 60 points behind right now). lando doesnt usually talk about the championship because he doesnt want news outlets to paint him as “desperate” so this was interesting

charles leclerc had an insane off week. first he rear ended someone in monaco. then he spoke at a yacht conference. he was not scheduled to speak at said yacht conference, he was there doing something else and they were like hey you're cool people know you, heres a microphone. he alsp ended up on a weather channel while promoting a karting event he was doing for the jules bianchi foundation (his god father, the one who died during the f1 race in japan 2014). he also changed his instagram pop and re centered it because some random tiktoker told him it matched his aesthetic better.

oscar piastri posted a photo of himself sitting in the cockpit of a plane and then promptly deleted it. because he posted it on 9/11. for anyone who doesnt know what that is, that was when some terrorists hijacked commercial planes and few them into the world trade centers in nyc and the pentagon in washington dc

max verstappen also posted a plane pic with himself and lando norris, but he did not delete it.

we also had the return of daniel ricciardo’s jpg instagram account, which is kinda like a finsta for photos that hes taken. i think lando started this a few years ago. 

heading into the race week we certainly got a weird ass batch of pr. including but not limited to:

lewis hamilton was back on top and slaying in the fit game. as was yuki. 

lewis hamilton also exposed george russell as listening to katy perry pre race. katy perry and taylor swift (this was after he claimed that he liked listening to old school rap music.) though, lewis then started singing wrecking ball???? confusing vibes all around

george was not off the hook yet tho because some intern definitely make him say skidibidi toilet or whatever the thing is idk, i might be gen z but im not insufferable, okay? actually george in baku was just all kinds of unhinged

george and alex also got up to something, what it is no one knows but it is clearly something

max pulled up to the paddock de aged about 10 years. picture one is of him in baku in 2015 (i believe he was 17) and picture 2 is this year. no i am not kidding. 

and franco walked into the paddock telling everyone about argentinian mate (which is a drink, not a friend)

and max shoved a microphone out of the way so everyone could gossip

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then of course, we had some slightly more relevant drama

haas announced that ollie would be replacing kevin at baku. in case you forgot, kevin magnussen received a total of 12 penalty points over the season so far, which means he gets one race ban. how did he get the points? well he was mostly wreaking havoc on everyone else so that his teammate, nico hulkenberg, could drag his car into the points. lets all remember the time in saudi arabia where he managed to get 20 seconds of penalties by basically driving like a mad man just to make sure that nico could keep his position after he pit stopped. anyway, nico was kind of pissed about the race ban situation and said “maybe the guidelines for F1 penalties need to be reviewed as the stewards ‘want to get involved’ no matter the contact.”

in any case though, k mags was out. and ollie was in. we’ve seen ollie before. notably he subbed in for carlos sainz at the saudi arabia gp when carlos had appendicitis. he managed to get points as well. since then, he has been announced as a haas driver for 2025 and is now subbing in for k mags (haas, later in the week called him a super sub. clearly no gen z person read that over.) he can do this because ferrari has a haas engine so they share reserve drivers.

adrian newey finally got employed. i know! i can hardly believe it either! but he did! and youll never guess where! 

ferrari? no that would be too obvious. 

mercedes? nah

williams? no too much of a shit show

aston martin? ding ding ding! just the right amount of shit show! 

that is right. newey is going to aston for 2025. 

apparently he was offered a “good package” according to himself, which i assume means pay and also the fact that lawrence stroll made him a shareholder? stakeholder? whatever its called. in the team itself. basically he has a lot of power. 

he said that he always wanted to work with fernando and lewis. and he couldn't do both. and aston had a better package than ferrari. 

fernando looked positively evil during all the announcement pictures. and called the team "definitely the team of the future" and for those of you who don't know, fernando is positively evil. hes just been stuck in a shit box and we havent seen very much of him, but man does he know how to evilly slut it up. so that will be fun to see.

by contrast, people said that lance was not excited enough. and well. lance 1. has resting bitch face and 2. never really looks excited about anything. also he lives in a world where take your child to work day somehow became his job. (his dad owns the team).

lewis hamilton was asked what he thought about adrian not going to ferrari, and here's what he had to say:

"i feel like, while I have mentioned before that it would be an honor to work with adrian, i have been privileged to work with two championship winning teams that didnt have adrian."

mclaren announced pato o ward would do FP1 in mexico. who is pato o ward? hes one of mclaren’s indycar drivers and one of the f1 reserve drivers. he is incredibly charming and definitely runs his own social media as seen here:

mclaren Also claim they figured out who their number 2 driver is and they claim its oscar. i say they claim because the statements were a lot more complex than that. essentially, according to andrea stella, the priority is to the team first, then lando and then oscar. so they didn't outright say that oscar is the number 2 driver and i am willing to bet real money that this is because mr mark webber, oscars manager, has something in oscars contract that prevents him from being a number 2 driver. this is of course because mark webber was one of the most infamous number 2 drivers in f1 history to none other than menace war criminal sebastian vettel, who in their time as teammates, managed to win 4 back to back world champions. or, top to bottom if you're mrs darbus from high school musical. 

lando was asked about this and he said that yes, the team does support him. though he would not expect oscar to give up a win for him and that it is more complex behind the scenes. i suppose we will see if there are any papaya rules coming out this weekend….

and oscar said "i think the main point is its not purely just going to be me pulling over for lando every single race, because thats how none of us, including lando, wont want to go racing, if we feel that someone has done a much better job on a weekend, whichever way it is, we want that person to be rewarded."

max verstappen commented on the mclaren situation as well. which was funny mostly because red bull has one of the most defined number 1 and number 2 drivers of any team. he said "you look at it form oscar's perspective, he is closer to lando than lando to me. they have to deal with that."

and allow me to put on a tin foil hat as we are about to talk about the future of the red bull seat. because all i have to offer here is a baseball hat and a red bull can. 

a long time ago we talked about the red bull cans. the ones that red bull makes to promote f1. at the end of last season red bull put max and checo on the red bull can. this season at the start it was just max on the red bull can. well. now checo has reappeared on the cans too. and i will tell you what i think this means. it means that checo is not getting swapped this season, which was a possibility for awhile. 

but! there is more! 

daniel ricciardo made an instagram post this week. and it was very interesting. but most interestingly he was wearing a red bull hat.

which he does occasionally, no big deal really. he did race for the for several years, he technically does currently. BUT then he showed up TO THE PADDOCK wearing the red bull hat.

which is Big Interesting. usually you show up in a statement outfit or wearing the team kit. and daniel is not a red bull racing driver. he is a visa cashapp racing bulls driver. they might be owned by red bull but they are Not the same team. so why the red bull hat. in the paddock. well, the rumor is that hes taking checos seat for 2025. and the rumor is that this will be announced before mexico. so checo can have a proper send off. 

and with that. the baku lore. 

theres a lot that has happened at baku. as i said its a street circuit. and i think its the fastest street circuit. but over the years theres been some notable events. 

such as the great kimi raikkonen radio for gloves and steering wheel:

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they gave mini kimi this week gloves and steering wheel in honor of that

the max and daniel crash in 2018 when they were running p1 and p2 respectfully

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and of course. how could we forget. charles’s infamous “i am stupid” radio.

speaking of charles, he crashed again in fp1. not quite in the same spot, but nearly. he took a picture with the marshalls. 

then in fp2 he rage quit, basically saying that the car sucks. 

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but he was back and better than ever in practice three because he managed to top the time charts. welcome back fuck ass ferrari.

some other teams definitely experienced the lows but not really the highs of baku during practice. like lance stroll who came on the radio to say “this is not a car” (good thing they have adrian newey now, right? 

franco colapinto also cut his ear before practice on the neck strengthener stretcher thing that they all use and the team wanted to give him stitches but he was like no no no i need to be in the car in about 5 minutes im not doing that. so he jammed on his helmet and jumped in the car. he also crashed and when he went to the medical center he took off his helmet and there was blood everywhere and they were like no no no you cannot race! and he was like no! this is not from the crash! and then explained it and they let him do qualifying. 

also im pretty sure? ollie bearman crashed? in practice? but frankly i don't have time to google it so whos to say. 

but alas. qualifying. 

i know i know this is kind of a shitty update. i promise ill go all out in singapore. i PROMISE. 

so as i said. its a street circuit. high speed. 90 degree corners. and also windy as hell. we also had the dynamic duo of karun and harry in the commentary box. 

max led the first practice, george led the second and i think charles led the third. or some order like that. 

slipstream here is almost essential (slipstream: going behind another car to reduce the wind drag so you can go faster) 

charles has the last three pole positions (first in qualifying) here in baku, but he has never won. by comparison, red bull have never had pole here but they have won. 

and franco has never been to baku before. 

i think that's all the exposition that we need here. 

q1 started with max complaining about his car. “the car is jumping around like crazy on the rear axle” he said. despite this he was sitting in p3. 

the mid field battle though….the mid field battle was heating the hell up. mostly because none other than franco colapinto, who if you will remember, has never been to baku before, had split the two ferraris. he was in third for the moment, .109 seconds behind carlos sainz and .159 seconds ahead of charles leclerc. we still had a lot of qualifying left to go, so this was probably not going to stay, but it was still insane. he was pushing insanely hard, nearly kissing the walls. clearly he had learned from his crash in practice. 

the two mclarens waited until the very end of q1 to do their final flying push lap, and oscar made it through, but tragedy struck for lando. 

lando was in the middle of his last flying lap, time was ticking down, and there was a Very Brief yellow flag on the track. now, according to rules, you cannot complete your flying lap if there is a yellow flag. so lando pitted and was stuck down in 17th and out of qualifying. this would be the first time that he was out in q1 since vegas last year (which if i remember correctly was also not his fault) 

now though, of course nothing is ever that cut and dry. people thought that there had been a mis showing of a flag. yellow flag means that a car is stopped on track, white flag means that a car is going slowly on the track. and people thought that there had been a yellow flag shown when it was actually supposed to be a white flag (if there had been a white flag then lando would have been able to keep doing his flying lap) lando himself said that he had no idea what people were talking about because there is a light on the steering wheel that lights up when flags are called and he had a big yellow light. so it was clearly a yellow flag. 

if you're concerned about lando being able to pull it out of the bag, id like to point you in the direction of the mexican gp last year where lando qualified 17th and finished 5th. on a track that was hard to overtake on. he can be absolutely insane when he wants to be. worry not gentle reader. 

in any case. also out in q1 was daniel ricciardo, valtteri bottas, zhou guanyu and esteban ocon.

and notably, williams, who was on fucking fire this weekend as we already saw, finished q1 with alex albon in second (ahead of oscar) and franco colapinto in 8th. pierre gasly had somehow managed to also get into 4th. and nico hulkenberg was in 7th with ollie bearman in 13th. i told you the mid field battle was heating the hell up. 

q2. everyone zoomed straight out of the gate. they didn't want to get lando norris’d. but, speaking of that, if lando managed to get no points in the race and charles managed to win, charles would overtake lando in the drivers championship. mark webber himself told this to charles, who was absolutely baffled. 

in any case, charles was kinda suffering right now and that was because he was not getting slipstream from carlos to make his lap faster. meanwhile, carlos seemed to be actively trying to give charles the slipstream because he came on radio to say “he keeps missing the tow” 

and amazingly, franco colapinto was 4 tenths AHEAD of alex albon. alex albon who had not been unqualified by his teammate once since the start of 2023. ex red bull driver alex albon. that alex albon. 

max topped the times in q2, followed immediately by charles. insanely, fernando alonso managed to drag the aston martin to fifth. and franco was right behind him in 6th. by comparison alex albon was in 10th. 

and from q2 we lost ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda (who has never qualified lower than 8th in baku), pierre gasly, nico hulkenberg and lance stroll. so yes, ollie bearman managed to outqualify nico hulkenberg. this is ollies second ever f1 race. 

steaming on forward to q3. 

we had, for review, in q3 the following: 

both ferraris, both red bulls, both mercedes, both WILLIAMS (has not happened since vegas 2023), plus fernando alonso and oscar piastri. 

right out the gate it was wild. 

“red bull! theyve re found their mojo! or have they!” karun said. red bull were in 5th and 6th and not entirely sucking for the moment. 

everyone did one flyer and then came out at the end for a second flyer. 

here were the standings: 

charles, carlos, oscar, george, checo, max, lewis, alex, franco, fernando

and everyone was making it to the line and all was going smooth until-

wait a second what is that

could it be! alex albon! with the air box fan still on his car! surely not!!!

oh but it was! and harry and karun were like oh wow so unfortunate for williams tisk tisk

meanwhile ted jumped on the radio to Loudly announce to everyone that this was insane and if i have time here i will put the rant he ranted cause it was Fantastic.

and what do you know i have time

so we had 3 minutes left qualifying and everyone was pulling out of the pits for their last flyer when oscar hopped on the radio to say

"the williams still has the air box fan in"

"oh what an error! disaster for williams!" karun and harry said. they speculated if the marshalls could get it or if the session needed to be red flagged. but alex threw the fan off the car.

and then they asked "ted have you ever seen that before?" and ted did not hold back:

"ITS A MASSIVE YELLOW FAN HOW COULD YOU MISS IT???!!! HOW COULD THE MECHANICS MISS IT???? I CANT BELIVE THEY WOULD MAKE SUCH A MISTAKE DOWN AT WILLIAMS! SUCH AN EXPERIENCED BUNCH OF GUYS AND GIRLS! WHAT IS GOING ON AT WILLIAMS OPERATIONALLY? HOW COULD YOU SEND A CAR OUT LIKE THAT?"

alex, obviously, got fined for an unsafe release 5k euros. he also had to throw the fan off to the side and got slightly covered in dry ice. he did not get to the a second flying lap. 

franco did tho!

and here were out qualifying results: 

p1: charles p2: oscar p3: carlos p4: checo p5: george p6: max p7: lewis p8: fernando p9: franco p10: alex  p11: ollie p12: yuki p13: pierre p14: nico p15: lance p16: daniel  p17: lando p18: valtteri p19: zhou p20: esteban 

oh ho ho but we werent done yet. because pierre gasly got disqualified from qualifying. for failing fuel flow regulations. and lewis was going to have to start from the pit lane for changing his power unit. 

everyone, and by everyone i mean oscar max and checo, pretty much said that charles was going to get pole no matter what, they knew this coming in and the best they were trying for was second

onto the race. 

notably, this is considered a checo track. this was one of the three races that max did not win last year. because checo won it. its a track that he does well on, evidenced by the fact that he qualified above max in qualifying. so people were expecting big things from him.

and so, we head into lap 1.

charles managed to hang onto the lead. checo passed carlos straight out of the gate for third and max managed to pass george to take fifth. lando had managed to get ahead of nico and up into 13th. notably, franco held onto 8th and ollie was able to hold onto tenth. 

someone who was not doing well was lance stroll, who came on the radio saying that he had a puncture. this was from contact with yuki. lance had to pit for fresh tires and was pretty immediately thrown to the back of the grid. 

by lap 2 lando had managed to get past daniel and was in 12th, he was trying to get past yuki next, which he managed by lap 3. yuki also lost a  spot to nico. 

also slaying in the mclaren was oscar, who took fastest lap. then charles took fastest lap.

and lewis hamilton, who had started from the pit lane, was up to 16th. already. somehow. though he was displeased with the tires, sayig that “this tire is pretty bad” over the radio. 

yuki meanwhile was clearly having a problem because he had started going very very slowly. thought the pit wall said that he had no problems. this would later turn out to be false but we will indulge them for the time being. 

franco was STILL ahead of alex albon on lap 6. STILL. 

lando on lap 8 managed to push his way into points positions, overtaking ollie bearman for 10th. though this was where things were about to slow down for him because in front of him were alex, franco and fernando, who were all very close together and would be hard to get past. 

george was back in bad luck hell as a plastic bag entered his airbox. will he ever catch a break. 

on lap 11 nico hulkenberg finally caught up with ollie bearman and passed him for 11th. 

and max’s car was not working. to potentially no one’s surprise. “i have zero bite in the car” he said. and this was probably true because checo was a whole 6.5 seconds ahead of him. insane gap. 

several pit stops later that i will not detail out because we simply do not have the time, alex albon ended up in 4th and lando ended up in fifth. and oscar was about to get undercut by checo. 

“mojo seems to be back for checo perez” harry said, correctly. 

mojo was back for him indeed. and now he was right behind lando. 

and if you will recall, according to mclaren themselves, priority at mclaren is the team first, then oscar, then lando. but oscar was ahead of lando. so what did mclaren do? 

they asked lando do hold up perez, but not compromise his own race. 

remever a long time ago when i said mclaren wouldn't have any internal drama this season? man how i was wrong.

lando managed to hold up perez for around a lap or two before he got past. this was crucial because this was during when oscar was in the pits. 

thanks to lando and the power of the papaya rules teamwork, oscar ended up coming out in 4th, only .706s ahead of checo. 

mclaren are working together everyone! mclaren are working together!

meanwhile, turns out that yuki did indeed have problems because he retired on lap 17 with a hole in his sidepod from the contact with lance on lap 1. this was now two races in a row where he had had to retire for reasons out of his control. 

several more people pitted. and eventually charles was back out in front, oscar was in p2. until he wasn't. no, he didn't dnf. he overtook charles! he was in p1! he popped out of nowhere! nowhere being 2 car lengths back and just flooring it to spring around charles like a little silly slinky! karun called it a “good, fair and robust defense,” which sounds like its descibing notes in wine. but this was not wine. this was the baku gp. and we were only half done. 

ollie bearman was defending against lewis hamilton, holding on tightly to 14th place. 

charles was still behind oscar and he could not get past, despite the fact that he was still very much in spitting distance. “they are pushing like crazy or they have more grip than us” he said. 

carlos got past both lando and alex albon and was up into 4th

this brought max up behind lando. max was on 11 lap old tires and lando was on 24 lap old tires. but lando still defended like hell and managed to hold onto sixth. max was 0.632 seconds behind lando on lap 25 when he said that “my brakes are not working.” this was hardly a surprise. max has hated the car since china.

also experiencing technical difficulties was sir lewis hamilton. he was stuck down in 14th and was first told to do “everything you can do to get the surface temp down” of the tires. he said “im trying” then several laps later on lap 29 he came on the radio to say “are you seeing how i have to drive this thing?” “yes,” bono, his engineer said. “quite effective though.” 

max was still half a second behind lando. mclaren faked a pit stop call over the radio to get max to pit. he did not. 

but, george russell did manage to pass him. which was “not good for max’s world champion aspirations.”

this was also when ted very bafflingly said that “if i had a sofa in the pit lane i would be jumping up and down on it” im not sure what that was in response to. 

meanwhile, ollie was still holding off sir lewis hamilton. and charles was trying to get oscar to pit again by lying over the radio. it was not working. 

lando did a pit stop finally and came out a whole 15 second behind max. he was hoping to catch max by the end of the race. but it might be tight. lets go last lap lando. 

“lando, imagine andrea on your shoulder saying ‘zero wheel spin’ in every exit,” lando’s race engineer said. if you're confused, everyone else was too. 

10 laps to go and here were the order of affairs:

oscar

+.449s charles +1.865s checo +2.989s carlos +16.530s george  +1.909s max +11.535s lando +9.715s fernando +2.589s alex +2.451s nico +4.667s franco +1.590s lewis +1.261s ollie +1.791s pierre +9.205s daniel +23.919s esteban  +.789s lance +3.862s valtteri +3.631s guanyu 

lando was determined. he took fastest lap on lap 43 and was 8.8s behind max

at this point, the leaders were starting to lap the cars in the back. “the back markers are starting to come up,” checo’s engineer said to him. “its going to get messy.”

“hold onto your hats and if you don't have one go get one and hold onto it” harry said. harry would turn out to be correct. 

we had the top 3 all running very close to eachother, that was oscar, charles and checo and “welcome to the party carlos sainz!” who was now 1.2 seconds behind checo in the four way battle for the lead.

definitely not leading was lance stroll, who retired on lap 47 with a brake problem. 

oscar managed to pull ahead of charles by 1.5 seconds, finally knocking him out of DRS range. so now it was a three way battle for second. and charles had “no rear tires. no rear tires at all.” 

and, just like i said he would, lando managed to pass max on lap 49. he was closing the gap slowly in the championship. 

“verstappen’s day goes from bad to worse,” harry said. because lando still had fastest lap, so he would score 3 more points than max. which is important if lando wants to beat max in the championship (though i think hes still like 60 points behind)

meanwhile! franco managed to pass nico hulkenberg for 10th! he was in the points!!!! at his second race!!! 

but this was short lived because there was a crash! a big smackeroo! between carlos and checo!! checo was mad, carlos didn't know what happened. 

what happened was that carlos was trying to pass checo but checo did not move over. it was deemed an equal fault accident. both of them were utterly confused at what happened and apparently spent 20 minutes in the medical center being utterly lost and aparently saying that sometimes this sport sucks. and! contrary to what several people said! checo did not bang on carlos’s helmet after the crash. 

the crash actually caused chef's dad to have a heart attack. he is stable now.

and well. this clip of george from the post qualifying interviews definitely didnt age well:

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but! since we were a matter of a few laps from the end, this meant that the rest of the race was finished under a virtual safety car. 

which meant 

OSCAR PIASTRI WINS THE AZERBAIJAN GP

and george inherited p3! 

and on his own merit too! no safety cars, no team orders, no weird shit! 

“yes!” he whispered over the radio. 

he almost fell getting out of the car, then gave us all the “one moment” hand gesture before properly celebrating. 

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he also got driver of the day! 

(this was marginally better than george russell, who said over the radio “i cant get any rubber (to pick up on his tires) all im getting is leaves”)

gunther steiner also hosted the post race interviews. which was interesting. 

george said that the most difficult part of the race was “driving full gas into a wall of carbon fiber on the penultimate lap…the vsc should have come out sooner” 

charles bashed ferrari because they didn't do any high fuel runs in practice. 

oscar was entirely pleased. “i managed to overtake and hold onto it for the next 35 laps..one of the better races of my career.” and honestly, oscar winning a race straight after mclaren basically announcing that he was their number 2 driver is nothing short of hilarious.

and! mclaren was now leading the constructors championship by 20 points! for the first time in ten years!!!!

the top three had a moment outside of the car that was filled with baffled: 

and oscar's engineer tom got to stand on the podium with him. he usually takes a selfie with oscar after each race he podiums at, but he was too excited to so george took this picture for them

(george also aparently demomished oscar in a game of uno on the plane, immediately humbling him)

george also shielded himself from the champagne on the podium

the cooldown room reacted to the crash in a very straight forward manner:

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and very quickly cause its midnight and the singapore gp starts in 8 hours, the post race, speed ran: 

-mark webber told off laura winter for thinking that oscar didn't have good tire management

-alex albon was “super happy, that's a lot of points for us” (williams finished in 7th and 8th). he cut his own interview short when ollie bearman arrived, saying “I can go, im happy to go” and then waving comically. 

-williams was so pleased with this result they blasted everyone with champagne. and they overtook alpine in the constructors championship! this was also their best race finish all season

-(and a quick note, if youre going to really blame logan for being that shit of a driver here, please remember that the car he was driving was several rounds of upgrades behind alex's pretty much the entire time he was driving it)

-ollie became the first driver to ever score points in his first two races for two different constructors because the double dnf pushed him up to 10th place. he said that there was not much difference between the haas and the ferrari, the ferrari was just red

-franco continued to charm everyone and flirt with the reporters. 

-they interviewed george and lewis and the camera had to be adjusted for george's height. it was comical and resulted in my favorite edit so far of the season (sound on)

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-lando looked pleased and happy for once. he said about holding off checo that “i didn't hold him up i just had to cool my tires a little.” he was delighted to be leading the constructors for the first time in ten years and he defended alex albon saying “i struggled to get past alex for a while, which is common, alex doesnt make mistakes.” he also ratted on max for going to fast during the VSC and said “i didn't complain, facts were stated.” and to sum it all up he said that “im executing things well, i’m very quick…i’m not going to be the happiest guy, but i am never the happiest guy….car is performing well everywhere…some red cars behind us seem to be our biggest competitors right now” 

-by comparison george insulted all of pirelli. the tire people. “pretty infuriating that it (the pace) changes this so much….its black magic, people who make the tires don't understand the tires…..for 20 laps we had a car not worthy of points and for 20 laps we had a car fighting for victory and the only difference is the tires.” 

-lewis was notably upset after the race and walked through the paddock with his helmet on, not wanting to talk to anyone. but he did talk to franco and ollie and congratulate them on a job well done defending against him and racing against him. franco even fangirled over this on his instagram. 

-charles was clearly upset with ferrari. he was so upset he posted a thirst trap.

-and oscar. oscar was very happy this afternoon. and his mom was there! she doesnt usually come cause it scares her, but nicole was there today! 

-mclaren celebrated with a hell of a lot of champagne. both oscar’s wina and lando’s insane recovery, and the fact that they were leading the championship. red bull have been dethroned, at least for now. 

-there was so much champagne that lando took off his socks to spray it. all seems well at mclaren. 

-at least one thing is for sure, oscar had a better time here this weekend than last year when he got food poisoning and only ate four pieces of toast

and with that. we head into singapore. quite literally as it is starting in a few hours. again, i apologixe about this post. its a little sad, but the next one will be better. pinkly promise. 

see you all soon!!!

[critterbitter]

HELLO HI ID LIKE TO ASK WHAT PROGRAM AND BRUSHES YOU USE CUZ IM LITTERALY EXPLODING EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR ART

actually actually... *pulls out whole stack of paper*...I have. a FEW,, a good few,, questions to ask. they are not many I swear 😇

OK SO FIRST OF ALL HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST???? everyday I log onto Tumblr I always see something new from you and I get very very happy. But then I start to question my own existence because not even I CAN SPEED RUN ART LIKE THAT. AND SO SPECTACULARLY TOO

Last question! how do you color and make it look so well?? just. How. I need to know. This is a CRY FOR HE-

anyway thank you for being one of my favorite artists that always feed my brain rot, pls keep making amazing art because like a little yamper I will follow behind and stay updated.

(Stands there)

Response and thoughts under cut!

First question! What art program I use!

Mostly procreate, along with a handful of brushes! (Specifically the Jing Set and some custom stuff, which is really just a circle brush with the shape changed to a square.)

Second question! How do i draw so much!

Okay so. I am. Ahhah. Unemployed,,,,? No, I do freelance illustration, but hmm. A studio job would be nice.

i graduated college last year and I’m very used to eight hour art shifts. The body sort of remembers to keep working, even though I no longer have storyboards or visdev homework to do.

Also. The hyperfixation is a deep vast tunnel I STILL have not seen the end of the light to, good golly. (I have dreams now about the kids committing shenanigan crimes. I wake up in cold sweat and write them down in a journal. It’s like being the mouthpiece to an angry god.)

So the overall gist is: I was trained to be a storyboard artist with a visdev background, and I’m using that higher education to draw funny muppets because my brain’s funny.

I also DO have a queue, and I’ve been treating this as a sort of inktober project. I am definitely going to slow down soon though! Maybe. Hopefully. Ah… (sheepishly drops my kofi here)

Third question! How do i color!

I. I, uh. I dont know man the coloring demons have a grip on my soul and i just go along for the ride. But also, if it helps, i prefer to limit my pallets to only a few colors at a time. Lighting is king, so if you can figure out if you want to focus on either on your lights or shadows, you’ll have a much easier time composing. That, and symbolic colors— idk, something hits different about art drenched in gold with a tiny hint of a man staring into the blinding horizon, or a green leafy environment with a single dot of artificial red. I also like using blue and purple for shadows, and I’m a big fan of muting colors with only one or two that pop— one of the reasons why I was so attracted to submas in the first place is because from a design aesthetic, they’re both super funny muppet men AND really cool train guys that have a limited pallet and thematic apparel.

Overall response! THANK YOU SO MUCH. This goes out to a BUNCH of people who sent me inbox queries— sorry for not responding, it’s a tad overwhelming because some of them are story questions even I don’t really know will go yet, and others are words of praise and I’m selfish and like scrolling through the inbox to look at them when I feel down. I am more of an artist who sits in the corner and sprouts like a potato rather then a branching vine who socializes, but I really do see people’s responses and they make me go :)))))

Okay ramble over. Thanks for coming to the soapbox, and good luck on creating!

[many-gay-magpies]

hello dead boy detectives fandom and bbc merlin fandom. i know there is a decent overlap between the two out there because i am either followed by or have followed several blogs myself that post about both merlin and dead boy detectives, so hopefully this finds its target audience. anyway a little while ago i became obsessed with the idea of merlin and kashi being besties, so i started writing a thing, and i don’t know if or WHEN i’ll finish the thing but i don’t want it to stay hidden until then so i am posting the incomplete and very unpolished version to tumblr. and who knows maybe if people like it that will give me the motivation to rewatch some merlin and actually finish it

anyways without further ado. here’s 1000 words of merlin engaging in (fairly mild) shenanigans in port townsend

—

There was a cat sitting on a rock.

Port Townsend had quite a lot of cats, Merlin had discovered. There had been at least one in sight at all times since he’d arrived in the small coastal town. This cat was regarding him with an expression that might have been called scrutinizing, had it been made by any face other than a cat’s. That is to say, it looked rather like cats typically do, which is scrutinizing as it is.

“Hello,” said Merlin, just to be polite. He had a bit of time before Kashi’s host—Angie, he’d said her name was—came to the surface, after all, and he was in the mood for a spot of conversation.

“Oh, great, it’s another o’ you English twats,” said the cat. “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“I’m visiting an old friend,” said Merlin. “We meet for tea every so often, to catch up. This’ll be my first time seeing his new place. I won’t be staying long.”

The cat settled further onto the rock, folding all four of its legs underneath its body. Its tail flicked lightly before curling around its haunches.

“Good,” it said. “Hopefully you won’t cause as much trouble as those two dead little shits from a couple months back. Brits, I tell ya—ain’t good for nothin’. The Cat King’s still hung up on the stuffy little asshole.”

Merlin hummed. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve met a king of cats before. What’s he like?” He’d met a number of kings in his times, including, quite recently, the King of Dreams—but that number had never included a king of Cats.

“None o’ your fuckin’ business,” said the cat. “Hold on—who are you, anyway? You don’t smell human, and you’re not dead.”

“I’m Merlin,” said Merlin. He thought it sticking his hand out for a shake, then thought better of it. “Pleased to meet you.”

The cat snorted. “What, like the wizard?”

“Warlock, actually,” said Merlin. “But yes.”

The cat opened its mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a whispered voice floating up from the shore.

Arthur’s voice.

“Merlin,” he called, his voice sounding exactly as it always had when Merlin did something far too stupid and risky for a servant, and he had to hide his worry under blankets of annoyance. “Merlin, are you there?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, again?” The cat grumbled. “There wadn’t even no storm last night!”

Merlin cleared his throat, shaking loose the small lump that had grown there at the sound. Kashi had warned him about Angie’s hunting techniques, so he’d known what to expect, but it was still something of a shock to hear in person.

“I think that’s my ride,” Merlin said. He turned to the cat and gave a little wave. “I’ll be off, then. Thanks for chatting with me!”

“Wha—hey!!” The cat exclaimed as Merlin turned and headed for the cliff. “No—Oi, stop that! Don’t—oh, brother…”

Merlin leaned over the stone barrier to peer down into the water, where a large light was pulsing visibly just below the surface. As he watched, his phone began to ring in his jeans pocket. He was still watching when he brought it up to his ear to answer.

“Hello, my friend!” Crackled Kashi’s enthusiastic voice from the end of the line.

Merlin squinted against the rays of sunlight lancing off the water.

“Is that you down there, Kashi?”

“Yes, it is me. And this is Angie! Say, hello, Angie!”

A loud, almost thunderous roar shook the sound, sending waves clawing at the sandy shore below.

“Hi, Angie,” Merlin shouted down to the creature. Then he waved. He doubted she could see him, but it didn’t hurt to be polite.

To Kashi, he asked, “How should I get in? Should I teleport?”

“Best not,” said Kashi. “Your style of teleportation might upset her stomach. Just jump down! She will catch you. Being swallowed is not the most pleasant feeling, but I’ve asked her not to chew on you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been swallowed before,” said Merlin, thinking back to a very particular instance with a giant snake in the Andes mountains. That was the time he discovered he could bounce back from being fully digested—although digging himself out of a pellet of giant snake dung after his body reformed inside it had not been fun.

“Are you there, Merlin?”

Merlin shuddered and shook his head to clear it of the discomfiting deja vu. “Yeah—yep. I’ll be right down. I just jump in?”

“Exactly, yes,” said Kashi. “It is not a far drop, so you should be fine.”

“Right,” said Merlin. “Well, see you in a minute, then.”

“Looking forward to it!”

Merlin hung up and deftly tucked the phone back into his pocket. Then, he climbed up onto the stone wall, and—after ensuring there was no one around to be traumatized by what it would seem like he was doing—performed an exquisite swan dive into the water.

Being swallowed was about as pleasant a feeling as Merlin remembered it being. That is to say, he felt rather how he imagined toothpaste being squeezed out of the tube might feel, had it possessed any of the five senses or been in any way alive. This time, though, he did not have to endure the process of being digested—which had taken nearly a month, given that Merlin’s first time being swallowed had been by a gigantic snake—and was instead spat out onto the floor of a large, warmly-lit cavern, drenched to the bone and coated in fish mucus.

A step up from being digested by a snake, all things considered.

“Eugh,” said Merlin.

It was then, of course, that Kashi appeared, stooping down and offering Merlin a hand to pull himself up with. Merlin took it and thanked him.

“Welcome in, welcome in!” Kashi said, grinning widely. “Sorry about the mess. I tried to clean up a bit before you came, but things got thrown around in the journey to the surface. Speaking of—“ he raised a finger, and the ground beneath Merlin’s feet—which was disturbingly hard and dry for being the stomach of a fish—began to shake. “—she seems to be going back to the bottom now. Come, sit, so you don’t lose your feet!”

“Nice place you’ve got,” Merlin said, allowing Kashi to lead him across the quaking floor to a small table near the back. “Definitely the best-furnished stomach I’ve ever been in.”

“Yes, it’s very nice,” Kashi agreed.

[madisonshoneybun]

Hello! I was wondering if you still are continuing to take fanfic request if you could possibly do one where newt and the reader are childhood friends and newt really likes the reader and is going to their house to confess his feeling to them but he is sad because they moved to New York to find a Job and after a few years newt sees the reader sitting on a bench at a park in New York but doesn’t know if that’s them because they are sitting with their back away from him so he isn’t sure if that’s really them, and they finally reunited and he confesses his feeling when the reading is working a late night shift at the department store in the first film and is about to go home oh btw if you could possibly add a bit of jealous Tina let’s say newt has kept the same necklace which he wanted to give to the reader when he wanted to confess his feeling to them when he was younger and then Tina goes into Newt’s case and finds the necklace and assumes Newt wants to give it to her so she puts it on anyway and Newt says it is not for her and she has to give the necklace back to him but at the end when she sees how happy Newt and the reader are together she is happy and accepts the fact that newt likes someone else and finds someone else to love. Omg if you do this I will be so so so happy I have just had this idea for a really long time now but honestly probably couldn’t actually write it thank you so much!

Found

Warning - none

Pairing - Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary - Newt left you and you had no idea why. He was someone you could never stop thinking about but as luck would have it, he found you. Will he leave you again? Will he be honest about how he truly feels? Or will he hurt you all over again?

A/N - Jezz it's been a long time. I remember when I was in high school, and my only hobby was writing fanfiction. I never told a soul. But here I am, now 22 and still wanting to come back and write from time to time. Though I didn't start this Tumblr account when I was in high school. I hope you like what I've written and keep sending requests and I just might write some. Might even right a few then hop off the face of the planet again. I don't know, but enjoy :)

Words - 3555

______________________________________________________________

Your most fond memories were running round the halls of Hogwarts with Newt not far behind. Sometimes you were skipping class to be with his creatures, sometimes one would escape, and you were both trying to catch it and other times, your favorite times, it was just so you could both be alone. There was a spot, under the east stairwell, where you'd hide. Newt was never one for affection but for some reason, here, with you, he'd hold your hand. Tracing his fingers over the lines on your palm almost like he was trying to read your future. You always hoped he'd be reading them to see if your futures aligned. Maybe if the maps on your palm were identical to his, it meant you were meant to be together. Like it was destiny. He'd never let you read his though, only allowing you to wrap your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect puzzle pieces. You'd lean you head on his shoulder, and he'd mumble creature facts to you, describe their beauty with hints of passion. Unicorns and fairies were in muggle stories, always the good guys and the most beautiful creatures to them. But Newt could tell you anything about any creature in the world, and you'd fall for them without caring what they looked like. Newt loved magical beasts and you loved them too.

You sat on a bench, the cold New York air biting at your skin. You didn't mind though. It reminded you of home. You'd picked up knitting a few years after graduating from Hogwarts. Both your muggle and wizard friends teased you, saying it was so boring and it was something only old people did. You liked it though, and it was always a high when you finished a piece, whether it be gloves, a hat or a scarf, it always made you so happy. Right now you were working on a scarf. You'd come up with idea of making your own version of the house scarfs at Hogwarts. You had started with your house, seeing as it was obviously superior, and worked your way through the others. Right now, you were working on the finally one. Hufflepuff. It was bittersweet. It was almost like you were pushing it off as much as you could. Every time you saw that shade of yellow, you'd be brought back to Hogwarts. To that boy with the most beautiful green eyes. To his crocked smile and its cute fluffy hair.

You smiled gently at the half-made scarf. God did you miss him. You wondered what he was doing, if he was okay, and if he still loved beast. You laughed quietly and shook your head. Of course, he does, dead or alive, he would never not love them. Even if one were to kill him, he wouldn't blame them. You heard someone chuckled behind you. It made you jump to your feet, dropping everything you were doing on the ground. Your hand flew to your back pocket, where you keep your wand, as you spun around.

Your hands fell to my sides upon seeing him. Both beautiful eyes and that fluffy hair. "Newt?"

He looked just as surprised to see you as you were of seeing him. Almost like he wasn't expecting it at all. What did he expect laughing at a random woman in the cold? A heavy sigh left your lips. "Were you just laughing at me Mr. Scamander?" You thought, seeing as you were both adults, it might be better to address him properly. You didn't have any idea on how he felt about you, if he had moved on from your friendship from school. It only felt polite to call him by his last name. He stilled and opened his mouth to speak. You could almost visually see the sweat form on his face and the color leave his eyes. "Uh no- I wasn't" He stuttered, waving his hands in the air.

You put your hands on your hips and titled your head to the side. "I jumped so hard cause I heard you laugh. Don't try to fool me." The flustered look on his face was so cute, you almost felt bad for teasing him. You weren't the same girl you were back then, growing more confident as the days went by. You wouldn't be so easily flustered by him like when you were little, but you doubt he'd even remember though moments. Or tell you about them at that. He looked just as flustered, maybe even more as he listened to you speak. It started to make you laugh and you waved a hand at him. "It's alright Scamander, I'm just teasing you. Can't handle a bit of teasing from an old friend?" His shoulders dropped, relaxing finally. For a moment, he still said nothing. Looking you up and down for a moment before finally opening his mouth to speak properly to you. "I heard you laugh and I couldn't help it. Yours is contagious." A blush crept up your neck.

He looked the same but also so different. He was taller than you now, more built, leaner. His jaw sharp, a bit longer hair, and this aura about him. He still felt a bit shy but exuded this confidence that you've never seen in him before. What had changed? How did he still feel like that kid from so long ago but I feel so mature? How stupid could I be? He's a grown man. You looked down at your items on the floor and crouched to get them. He crouched too but soon stood back up. "What are you doing here?" You sat back down, and he took a seat next to you. "I'm passing through. On my way to Arizona to release a Thunderbird I rescued from Egypt... though..." He looked down at his hands like he was ashamed. "It appears some other creatures escaped my case, so I have to find them before anything bad happens to them."

You could feel his sadness wrap around you. It felt cold and seeing him after not seeing him so long didn't erase your memories of him. His love for all magical creatures. You took his hand, like he had done to you all those times under that stairwell, and squeezed tightly. "Let me help you." His eyes moved to yours and for a moment they looked like there were stars in them. Like hearing you say that made him the happiest in the world. Like you weren't afraid or anger at him for leaving all those years ago but it soon faded. Knowing what little he knew about what was going on in this city, he never wanted to put you in danger so, like all those years ago. He pushed you away. He pulled his hand away and rose to his feet. He refused to look at you as he picked up his case. "I've got it. I know these creatures like the back of hand. Don't worry yourself with it." and without giving you even a second to respond, he began to walk away.

Seeing his back to you, slowly getting farther and farther away, you had no idea what to do. When he left you tried to stop him, but he wouldn't open up to you about why. You could never understand it all. But you did understand was how much he hurt you. How much it hurt to have him lie to your face. And how much it hurt begging him to be honest with you, begging you to stay, and having him still leave you behind. You weren't going to do again. Not this time. You were going to let him go.

____________________

Newt had been keeping himself occupied in his case all night. The others had no idea what to do. Something must've happened but none of them were close enough to him to ask. Jacob was the first to try, but all he got was one-word responses. Queenie tried to but Newt didn't even bare her a glance. Tina was the only one absent from this whole ordeal. She was inside the shed, while Newt was taking care of his creatures and Jacob followed him like a lost puppy. She was looking through his things, trying to find anything about him. They had gotten close, and had bonded through this while ordeal, even though it wasn't entirely over yet. She could feel her feelings growing for him the more they interacted with him. When Newt saved her, looked her in the eyes and promised her that'd he'd catch her, she felt something. She had felt so safe and cared for. She had a slight worry that he might leave her. Save himself and then go save his case. But he stayed and the look in his eyes felt like a silent promise that he wasn't going to leave her.

She opened up drawer after drawer. Not really rummaging through, just moving a few things around. She eventually came across and small velvet box. It was a beautiful royal blue. It was so soft and light. When she opened it, a soft glow illuminated her face. She took it out of the box, setting it aside and hold a beautiful silver necklace. It was short, like it would rest perfectly in-between a person's collarbones. These last few days, maybe he felt the same way? It felt too soon for something like this but everyone knew how awkward, yet charming Newt was. He was never very good with words. There was this tiny whisper in the back of her mind that said to ask him who this was for. Confirm with him first before she thought it belonged to her but the love she felt for him drowned out that voice. Slowly, as to not make a sound, she put it around her neck. Clasping it in place. She felt silly for being so quiet. No human on this ear could hear the sound if a necklace clamping in place but her nerves got the better of her. She closed the box, setting it back inside the drawer, and left the shed.

_____________________

You couldn't believe your boss called you in so late. You weren't a security guard; this wasn't in your job description. You were reading about everything going on, and you can't lie and say it didn't make you nervous. There was no denying it wasn't something more than normal muggle things. It had to be something you'd read about in school. Or some witch or wizard who was after something. You knew all this but could do nothing. You weren't with the Macusa, like you'd ever want to do anything like that, you were just a normal witch. The best you were good at was making positions and remembering wizard history. And of course, a butt load of creature facts. You also felt confident that the Macusa were handling it.

Never mind that. You had to be "keeping an eye out" as your boss had told you to do. This store had never been broken into at night, you never understood why. Shoplifters though? That has happened a few times. Since you didn't think anyone would dare try to break in, you brought you scarf to finish. It was almost done. Just a few more rows to go. Glancing down at the fabric in your hands, you remembered the park. How you were literally just looking at this stupid thing and thinking about him. Then he popped into thin air. Almost like you were granted a wish from the gods but now? Just looking at it stung. What did you do to deserve this treatment from him? Did he figure out your feelings and just had no clue on how to turn you down? If he didn't like you back you would've respected that decision, but he didn't even respect you enough to tell you why he was leaving. Before you could get too into your head you heard something fall to the ground. Luck truly wasn't on your side huh? First you wished for him and now you somehow jinxed this whole break in thing.

You stood, making slow, gentle movements around the front desk. Making your way over to what had dropped, you felt like there were eyes on you. And in an instant, you were grabbed from behind, a hand over your mouth. You went to scream but once your back met the person's chest you stared ahead. You saw Newt, holding a finger to his lips. Just looking at him made you anger. How could he treat you the way he did and then randomly show up here and have whoever was holding you touch you like this? What would he even need here? Then it hit you. His creatures.

You nodded and the person behind you let you go. You turned to face them and saw a man, he quickly whispered an apology to you, and two women. Then women were like polar opposites of each other, visually speaking. Nothing to do with their beauty, no, they were both probably the prettiest women you had ever met. They just looked different. Once blonde wearing pinks and a cute face of makeup, the other a brunette wearing darker clothes. After scanning the group your eyes fall back to Newt. "What's here?" he pointed past me, a floating purse making its way through the store. "Dougal, my Demiguise." You nodded slowly. You've heard a lot about those creatures. Newt always thought they were the most difficult to catch, or save even.

"Demiguise are fundamentally peaceful, but-" "they can give a nasty nip though." You shrugged. The room fell silent. You looked up at the other, who you still hadn't gotten the name of. They looked at you like you were crazy but Newt had this slight smirk on his face. "I learned from the master himself." You whispered and gently nudged Newts arm. After the interruption Newt was giving out orders. "You two, head that way. And try very hard not to be predictable. Y/n?" You hummed softly. "Stay with them?" You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was worried for them. These people obviously knew little to nothing. But you knew everything, you knew what to do and what not to do. You keep these people safe. And Newt trusted you so deeply with that task. You smiled and nodded, leading the way.

We were in some kind of attic and Newt was describing the beast to everyone in the room. Once you realized it was babysitting and that Newt "must have miscounted" you knew we were in for it. A huge and beautiful Occamy came forward. Staring straight into Newt's eyes. You felt a smile creep onto your face, you'd never seen one before but like you'd always thought, no matter the creature, it was a wonderful thing to see. Seeing how gently Newt was, you thought for sure he had it, that was until the blonde walked forward, almost like she was in awe, and accidently kicked a Christmas ordainment. It rang and the poor thing got spooked. Its body got moved around the room, almost snake like. Your first immediate thought was to get Dougal, something so big could easily kill him while it was startled like this. But once you made your way towards him, he made his way towards the other man and blondie. Now in the center of the room, Newt was gone, riding on top of it. Before you could even think to start looking around for something small or an insect, one of its wings came flying towards you. Hitting you square in the chest and making you slam into the floor. You head hurt the most, and you blacked out while gasping for air.

_____________________

We had just gotten the Occamy in the tea pot and for a spilt second everything left so calm. It felt like the weight he had been keeping on his shoulders had vanished, but it all faded when he saw you, the literal light of his light, laid limp on the floor. Tina had both hands on the tea pot and the lip so Newt ran to your side. "Y/n? Hey, wake up!" He shook you gently and then realized that was probably the worst thing he could be doing to you right now. His only other thought in mind was to take you into his arms and bring you into his case. He had put a cot in the shed, right by the entrance. Sometimes he just preferred to be asleep near his creatures. The sounds they made throughout the night were like little lullabies. He brought you down, the other following close behind, and laid you gently on it. Taking off his coat and laying that on top of you too. It was particularly cold but he still worried.

"Can you put my Occamy back and Dougal on his tree?" He didn't spare anyone a glance. But Jacob nodded, leading Queenie out of the room. But Tina stayed. She took a seat next to you, looking you over. It seemed she didn't snoop enough, or she was just blind as a bat because once she looked up towards Newt, she was a photo. A moving picture, of you, smiling so bright. Her hand slowly went to the necklace. She felt this ping in her chest. Over these past few days she thought her and Newt were becoming closer. Like they could be something more. Maybe not this soon, but over time, maybe something. It genuinely hurt more than she thought it would. While Newt was still distracted, making something to help you, she took off the necklace and gently placed it around your neck. Seeing it on you, it felt like it just belonged there.

She stood to her feet and gave Newt a gently pat on the back and left the room. Leaving the two of you alone.

______________________________

You slowly opened your eyes, your head heavy and throbbing. Your back also just completely bruised. You sat up slowly, touching your hand to your head. It was wrapped in gauze and a foreign cream over your collarbones, along with a necklace. You knew you weren't wearing it before but besides that, you were in so much pain. You glanced around the room and saw Newt, setting on the floor beside you, holding your free hand. You squeezed it and he opened his eyes, standing so quickly to his feet that he fell back a bit, leaning fully on the work bench behind him. "Are you alright?" you asked him with a chuckled. "Are you alright?" he made his way back to your side. His hand finding its way to the back of your head. He leaned down a bit, giving you a once over. You nodded. "I'm fine, though I will say that hurt more than when we tried to ride that Hippogriff we found in the forest." He moved away and went back to his work bench, grabbing something that must've been sitting there, waiting for you. He handed it to you and drank it without a second thought. Your body felt cool all of a sudden and like the pain was fading away.

He sat beside you, fiddling with his fingers. You grabbed his hands, like you'd done all those years ago but for the first time, he flipped his hand, allowing you to see the maps on his palm. He glanced at him, but his eyes were laser focused on your fingers as you ran them over the lines. Your eyes went back to his hands, much larger than yours. As you traced the lines they felt familiar. It felt like the same pattern he would trace onto you. Your heart was beating so fast. All this time you wondered why he was so fascinated by it, but he knew all along that you futures were aligned. You continued to stare and trace with a smile permanently etched on your face. "I love you."

Your eyes shot up. "I love you, y/n. I've loved you for so long and I've been terrified to tell you but..." He clenched his jaw. "When I saw you there, I was more terrified than ever. The thought of you not loving me back couldn't compare to the thought of you dying. So I knew I had to tell you. I'm sorry I never told you, and I'm sorry I left." Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His beautiful green meeting your calm (y/e/c). His hand went to your cheek, thumbing rubbing your tears away. You hand went over his, and gently rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. A chuckle left your lips as the tears fell completely. "I love you too. I always have."

He smirked and you could see his shoulders relax. He was looking at you so intently and then down at your lips. Your eyes met again and he leaned forward, ever so slightly, then stopped. It was a silent way to ask permission. Then you leaned forward to, inviting him in. He took the invitation and slowly kissed you. It was soft, gentle and the best thing you've ever felt in your life. The happiness you both felt filled the room. This might be your new, fondest, moment.

Masterlist

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

update on the good omens grieving process

Hello hi yes maggots your mascot sacrificial goat here, none of your ominous bloody warnings prepared me for this. On the advice of one of you I took a break from tumblr today so I thought ah, yes, I shall not think about Good Omens during this time. Hahahaha bet. This is a long post, about a series of disturbing good omens moments that haunted me anyway. Proceed with caution.

It was nine hours away, out of which I slept through four.

During the first nap, it became clear how tumblr brainwashed me. You'll never guess what I dreamed of. If you said Good Omens the answer is no.

I dreamed that someone on the television was reading out an audiobook of a nature arts and crafts book I had as a kid. And there were six pages dedicated to praising Neil Gaiman.

So then in the dream I wrote a tumblr post about it saying, "I thought y'all were kidding about the whole Neil being in our falafel thing but goddamn he really is everywhere".

Then, still in the dream, I remembered I wasn't supposed to be on tumblr, so I tried to delete the Neil Gaiman falafel post. Instead tumblr fucking glitched and set the post to 'lo-fi mode'. I kept trying to delete it.

At this point my screen was covered with pop-ups of tumblr yelling at me and a goddamn timer counting down from 41,000 minutes. Tumblr informed me that their 'delete post' function is actually run by BitCoin.

Currently due to their skeleton staff and the fact that this hellsite is held together with washi-tape and queer trauma, they were having negotiations with BitCoin and so I could not delete my post. I tried again anyway and the entire site hung. Then I woke up. This is some @one-time-i-dreamt shit.

The only social interactions I had were with the two irl good omens fans I know, whom I informed that I had finished Good Omens.

One of them sent me an audio clip of him screeching about trauma and six months and children of divorce at the top of his voice.

The other one texted ASMIIII YOU'RE A CHILD OF DIVORCE HOW ARE YOU COPING WITH THE PAIN. Two hours into my tumblr break I was already facing withdrawal and I wanted to sob that's what the maggots call me but that would have led to them saying BECAUSE THAT'S YOUR FUCKING NAME and I didn't wanna descend there yet.

I then went on Amazon and tracked my good omens book package like a creep. I then went on the US Amazon to cry over all the Good Omens merch that I cannot buy and isn't available here.

I then went on Pinterest to look at Good Omens tumblr screenshots. It was all going well until I found a stupid fucking post that said the duration of the song playing in the Bentley during the final fifteen and the duration of the kiss are the same. So he was replaying the kiss in his head before stopping the music.

Naturally, this then made me cry over Crowley. Painfully.

I looked up Good Omens ambiences on Youtube and cleaned a whole half of my desk while an Aziraphale's bookshop ambience played with rain and shit and when the lockdown audio came I smiled again.

And now here I am. Back. In pain.

[arcielee]

Hello my Tumblr kindred spirits. I apologize for being mostly MIA [still]. Our move was stressful, but our new home is amazing and my new job is everything I have ever wanted, which is such a relief 😅

Right now, we took a trip up north so my husband could work on his project. I am dealing with hotel wifi and it is spotty at best.

If you posted a story or tagged me in something, I apologized if I missed it. Feel free to DM me, or just deal with my snail's pace as I try to comb through my notifications.

Anyway, here are some edits of stillshots you guys keep sending me. I have my hotspot on to crack open Canva, cackling like a loon as I lovingly sprinkle hearts all over our babygirls:

Feel free to reblog if you want to reuse these 🥰

I love you all!

[chernabogs]

Hello! I rise from my tumblr slumber to humbly ask if you’d be interested in writing for Malleus, based on the prompt ‘I didn’t feel like I’d step into another world, but like it’d stepped into me. I knew I was there and forgot I’d left anything behind.’ from the prompt list you’d reblogged? I am…sensing much Malleus related angst potential here.

Hehe yes... sort of angst, sort of spooky

RUINS

Inc: Malleus, a fisherman, one ghost (maybe?) WC: 3.1k Warnings: Bleak LMAO. Drug use (smoking, alcohol, and tobacco thanks to the fisherman), ocean horror mention, supernatural horror mention. Summary: A boy looking for his mother visits the last place she was before her passing.

“It’ll be a few hours down the path just beyond the tree line. Impossible to miss if you ask me.” The man pauses to chew on his cigar, his dark gaze narrowing, before grabbing for his pint again. “Why’re you interested ‘n that place anyway? Right rotten, it is.” 

The Red Rabbit is a place renowned for information gathering and sharing—so long as you allow the bartender to continue pouring the mead. Malleus’ fingers reach up to brush along the hood of his travelling cloak as he pulls his own pint glass close. He’s used glamour to conceal most of his obvious features. If anyone saw the crown prince sitting in a dingy pub asking for directions, it would most certainly cause a stir. 

“Right rotten, is it?” Malleus raises the pint to his lips and allows the burning liquid to slide down his throat. Fae mead is noxious, only in that it can get you intoxicated in the first few sips—if you’re a human. The man who sits before Malleus has taken more than a few at this rate. “Perhaps it would be best to let me be the judge of that myself.”

His companion snorts before setting his cigar aside. He’s a fisherman; the scent of the ocean lingers on his person, and his hands are calloused from tossing and hauling nets into an ungiving depth. The shores of lands that had once been Briar Nations have been deprived of fish ever since they became isolated. The village’s landscapes, once vibrant, have now become jagged rocks and dead trees. The villagers are no different. “Go where y’want, see what y’wish. So long as yer not on the rob. That’ll get you killed.” 

This is another thing that Malleus has noticed regarding the village and its denizens—people mind their own business. This is uncommon for small villages, where most would be itching to get in everyone’s affairs, and only further emphasizes the economic faults of the borderlands. It unsettles him.

He didn’t come here on a whim. The thought of this journey had sat in his mind ever since he found out the origins of his birth, and the deception under which he was raised. Perhaps this is why when he slipped out of the palace through the servant’s entrance and into the forest late at night, he did not feel threatened by the burning gaze he felt on his back.

His grandmother owed him. This, she seemed to know, and so she let him go without protest. 

Still, the villagers final comment piques Malleus’ attention. “Get me killed, hm? And what could be there to kill me if it’s just a rotten, desolate place?” 

“Dire beasts’ nests are in there. Few of the guys have seen ‘em—big, hungry things lumbering past the stained-glass windows and down the corridors. Lots’ve people who try goin’ there end up goin’ missing instead because they underestimate how vicious a defensive mother can get.” The fisherman picks up his cigar again and chews on the end. “Anyone who’s lived here long enough knows.” 

Malleus’ nails tap against the pint before pushing it aside and setting a coin pouch on the table. The fisherman raises an eyebrow, his beady dark gaze darting from Malleus to the pouch in interest. There’s enough to pay for Malleus’ drink, the fisherman’s drink, and probably tide the man over for the wintertime as well. A saccharine smile pulls on Malleus’ lips—the part of him that isn’t shadowed by the hood he wears over his head. “Take me there yourself, and I’ll give you more.” 

The fisherman chews on his cigar, staring at Malleus as he does. A thoughtful look crosses his face before it ends in him shaking his head. “Fuckin’ rich ‘uns…” 

His grumbling doesn’t stop him from grabbing the pouch and opening it up. He drops a few madol on the table before shoving the rest of the pouch in his pocket and tossing his cigar aside. A foul, hacking sound comes from his lips before he spits on the floor—which Malleus tries politely not to make a face over—and grabs his raincoat. “Come off it, then. I’ll take it the ocean way. It’s a lot faster and safer than tryin’ ta move through the woods. Bad season for that.” 

“Bad season?” Malleus asks as he rises to his feet. The fisherman shuffles past the other patrons in the crowded space before shouldering the door open to step back in the bleak outdoors. He mutters under his breath as he digs around his pockets before pulling out a small container and popping something into his mouth. The pungent smell of chewing tobacco notifies Malleus quickly of what it is. 

“S’breeding season. Everything in those woods is all riled up and starving in their energy. You’d make a fine morsel for somethin’.” The fisherman glances back at him and grimaces. “Tall n’ scrawny.” 

Well, Malleus tries not to take too much offence to that as he follows the fisherman down the path towards the docks. In his transformed appearance, his physique did look different than usual—leaner, less ‘victim of countless years of training.’ 

“Tragic,” is all he sighs instead before adjusting his hood once more. 

_______________

There’s something humbling about sitting on a cramped boat next to a net full of dead fish that you don’t really realize until you experience it. For Malleus, who sits with his knees to his chest and his body leaning as far away from the net as possible, it’s an experience he doesn’t want to go through again. The fisherman seems utterly unbothered as he stands at the end of the boat, looking out at the murky waters beyond while still chewing on the same tobacco lump. The vessel putters slowly with its magic-powered engine into the night. 

“Gotta go at this pace in case we run into rocks below.” The fisherman shouts over his shoulder as he looks down to the waters again. “Or anythin’ else for that matter.” 

“Anything—” Malleus recoils as a slimy fish corpse brushes against his hand. His expression twists and he swats it away. “Eugh. Anything else?” 

“Merfolk, sea creatures, indiscernible entities. Y’know—no man’s land specialties.” The fisherman’s foot kicks against the engine as the boat is guided to swerve around a rock in question. “Merfolk especially have been comin’ up and around these parts. Which is strange, considerin’ they usually mind themselves down in the Coral Sea.” 

“Perhaps they are vacationing.” Malleus prompts. He knows this is a stupid idea as soon as the words leave his lips, and the fisherman’s bark of a laugh reassures him of such. No one is vacationing to these no man lands. 

The two of them fall back into silence as Malleus looks out to the sea. The lamp on their boat hardly cuts through the darkness that shrouds around them, churning and twisting like the waters they drift upon. He can see why stories of sailors going mad in the night are so prevalent in these parts. The world around them, which seems to hold no beginning or end in this moment, is a prime canvas for delusions. 

“Try not to look out too long. Focus on the lamp instead.” The fisherman’s voice draws him once more as the boat sails along a cliffside now. Black stones loom over them in a daunting stance. It’s the same stone that was used to create Black Scale Palace—carved from the body of Briar Nation itself, back when the body still had a lot to give and belonged to his family. He can see faintly where fae-made chips reside and where nature itself has taken course. “It’s a fool's role to try and see out there. You’ll start seein’ shit that isn’t.”  

Malleus sinks back down in the boat with a sigh. The fisherman is weathered enough to have done this for a long time now if his grey hair and sun-wrinkled skin had anything to say. If he can survive to this age, then it’s for a good reason. 

“How much longer?” He asks. The fisherman scratches his chin before stepping off the bow and sitting against the side of the boat. Fish corpses, a fisherman, and the void-like world around him—Malleus is beginning to doubt the journey’s worth. 

“Five minutes, give’r take. Best just get comfortable.” 

Comfort is impossible with the pungent scent around them, but Malleus pulls his cloak tighter regardless and looks back to the lamp. A few insects bump against the glass in a foolish bid to reach the light, and he busies himself by counting how many burn up in their efforts. 

_______________

When they finally arrive, he pays the fisherman enough madol to wait for him at the bottom of the cliffs before beginning the steep ascent up the hills. His mother had an apparent idea that building a palace near the edge of the nation’s lands was a brilliant one. Perhaps in the forgiving summer months the view of the ocean was tranquil and pleasing. Right now, it’s the most loathsome thing in his existence. 

Making it to the top of the cliff offers no reprieve, either. He’s greeted abruptly with an excess of thorns twisting and writhing their way across the earth. Brambles, starving for something, shudder and groan as he inches past them. The only reason they refuse to sink into his supple flesh is perhaps because they can smell the magic of their creator imbued within him. His mother apparently did have brilliant ideas—one of them being to give him a healthy dose of magic before her departure. 

“Gods,” he hisses as he burns away another bramble. The sudden light seems to make the patch shudder and retract with an angry sound. The movement enables Malleus to notice a different aspect of the palace that he neglected—the scent of diurnal fae magic. He can feel it clashing with his mothers in a power-struggle for control, the two essences entwining and biting like starving dogs. The diurnal fae likely wished to keep humans away—Malleus wagers his mother wished for the opposite. 

His lip curls in disgust as he makes his way down the stone path leading to the decrepit white structure beyond. The closer he gets, the more he begins to see the truth in the fisherman’s warnings. Stained glass windows are either blown out or breaking along the palace’s walls. The stones themselves are chipping and beginning to crumble, crushed under the weight of the thorns that still twist and move subtly. The musky scent of animals also begins to appear alongside the earlier magic. This is what draws him to a stop as he reaches the front door. 

It may have been heavily fortified once. Now, it looks as though one door was violently kicked in, lying broken on its hinges and giving just enough room for Malleus to wiggle inside. He nips his finger on a thorn, causing a curse to slip past his lips as he presses his wound to his tongue before his feet finally meet stone again. 

There’s no chuffing of dire beasts from within like the fisherman warned. There’s also no indication of any sort of haunting present, which Malleus has also heard rumours of. 

No. Upon entering Wild Rose Palace for the first time in his life, Malleus is greeted with silence—anticlimactic, and brutally honest. 

“... hm.” He shoves his hood off his head and waves a hand to dispel the transformation glamour he’s been wearing. Once that’s in order, he begins to move down the hall to his right, his eyes narrowing with intent swimming in their green depths. If the layout of this palace is the same as Black Scale, then the throne room is likely down this hall, past a few more turns, and then through another set of double doors—nestled right in the heart of the building. 

As he moves, he does begin to track similarities to his grandmother's home. It didn’t feel like he had stepped into another world—rather, that it had stepped into him. He knows he’s here and yet feels like he forgot he left to arrive. It’s unnerving. His fingers trace along the wall to his left as he passes by suits of armour, portraits either torn up or faded from age, and tapestries that display tales with which he isn’t familiar. His grandmother had tried hard to shield him from a lot of things. This apparently includes censoring literature that may have once existed. 

The brambles continue to part for him as he makes turn, after turn, after turn in the labyrinthian design that was formed in his mother’s mind. His breath hitches a few times in panic when he hears a sound from behind him in the hall, causing his pace to pick up, only to level out again when the sounds fade. It feels as though he’s been walking for eons when another set of doors finally appear. 

Carved of black oak and adorned with two dragons curled on their frame, he reckons that they can only lead to one place as his hands grasps the cold, metal knobs. With a jerking motion, he pulls them open to a cacophony of deafening shrieks, and steps inside. 

_______________

Glass. 

The sight of his body takes him aback for a second as his expression becomes almost comical. The wall behind the throne that sits at the end of the large room is glass, polished and untarnished despite nearly 400 years of neglect. His hands fall from the knobs as he slowly makes his way inside. There are stained glass windows lining the one wall while the other is white stone, which is decorated with brambles crawling to the rafters above. Malleus steps over them deftly, frowning as he does before coming to a stop in the middle of the room. Once he reaches this point, he pauses, before closing his eyes and trying to think. 

He wants to see if he can feel her. Even a slight lingering wisp of her presence would be enough to please him. He wants to know if he can experience what it’s like: a mother’s touch, a mother’s voice. His grandmother had tried hard to shield him from a lot of things, with maternal affection also being one—not that he can blame her. He used to, but experiencing loss first-hand had taught him that not everyone heals the same way. A few remain more fractured than others even in the years after. 

“Mother?” He tries the term on his tongue, tastes it, rolls it over to see what that’s like as well. It’s foreign. His mouth struggles to form it and his voice warbles as his eyes open and he grimaces. Sour and strange—that’s how it tastes. His feet drag him closer to the throne before he kneels upon it to peer at the glass wall. 

It looks like it was covered by fabric once. Scraps of violet remain pooled on the floor, which he passes a sparing glance at before looking up again. He feels like a child as he peers over the thrones edge to his curious reflection. He used to do this with his grandmother when he was little—play on her throne, try to get her attention for even a moment. He’s always been somewhat of a needy child. 

“Mother?” He prompts again. Maybe saying it twice will do something. Instead, the only thing he receives is his own voice echoing back as he looks over his shoulder to the darkened hallways beyond. 

Silence—anticlimactic, and brutally honest. 

His nails dig into the metal of the throne as he slumps down, temporarily dejected. It’s a stupid thing to get dejected over, he reasons to himself. It isn’t like he expected to hear what her voice sounded like anyway. All he has are a few nagging memories of it from his time within his egg. His head turns to the side to look in the glass again. His expression is less curious and more frustrated now as he stares into his own green eyes. 

And then, a flash. 

It’s so subtle that he might have missed it had he not been looking in the glass at the right moment. It makes him sit up straighter as his breath stutters to a pause. There’s nothing for another few seconds before another flash, and another. A few lost green fireflies seem to have found their way into the palace and are now floating by his head in interest. Malleus’ lips crack into a faint smile as his hand goes up to brush against one, which lights up bright before floating just out of reach. 

He can see them in the mirror. The fireflies, the stained glass, the tapestries, the shadow—

Shadow. 

He thinks for a moment—just one, foolish moment—that he can see standing behind him in that glass, something tall, with horns like his own and a flash of green that isn’t a firefly. Malleus twists around rapidly in the throne, his body tense and ready for conflict, only to look upon a room devoid of anything but him and the insects. The silence of all but his own breath is becoming oppressive, weighted, like he’s starting to no longer be welcomed in this place. He hears something low rumble from somewhere else within the palace as he waves a hand to conceal his appearance. 

He rises from the throne, shaken but not put off as he steps down to the stone floor once more. A thought crosses his mind that he can’t help but find amusement in—it’s utterly her. From the stories he’s heard through Lilia, and Baul, and even his grandmother on the odd night, it’s utterly her to give him a fright before vanishing into the ether once more. 

It thrills him. It vindicates him. 

“Thank you, mother.” There’s a dry bit of humour in his tone as he casts one last glance to the throne before turning away. 

Does he feel as though a part of himself is satisfied now? Does he feel whole? He isn’t sure. Perhaps the realization will come to him on the boat ride back to the bleak, miserable village he came from. Perhaps the realization will come to him in his bed, when he’s wrapped in sheets of black silk and staring at the stars beyond. Perhaps the realization will never come at all because it never existed to begin with. 

Anticlimactic, and brutally honest.

[thehatchetfieldpocketsquirrel]

hello tumblr

I was just at Starkid Innit and apparently there's a bunch of Starkid fans on here these days so HIIII. I've mostly been engaging with with fandom on Reddit and Youtube but I was a tumblrite in Ye Olden Days and this is probably a better venue for posting random musings than Reddit. ANYWAY have some post-gig thoughts written on my phone on the train:

Corey Dorris was incredible. Give that man a lead role yesterday. He absolutely slayed Showstoppin' Number and now I kinda want to see him as Hidgens. He's so damn charismatic and his voice is amazing and HE DESERVES THE WORLD

"Those books, which were written by nobody" - thank you Joey, A+ allyship

MEREDIIIIITH ❤ I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. So delighted that they got to do a load of Firebringer stuff and that they got SUCH big cheers from everyone, I feel like Firebringer is often underrated

Getting to hear Jeff singing Max Jagerman's part in the NPMD title number, YES THANK YOU VERY GOOD

Obvs I knew Lauren had range but seeing her perform bits from so many different roles in one evening really cemented it, wow what a voice, AND she's fucking hilarious

"Where'd you get your shirt!?"

Jaime Lyn's voice and mannerisms and unhinged facial expressions and THOSE BOOTS and AAAA I'm so glad she's having off-Broadway success in Five but also it's wonderful that she's still performing with SK! "Thank you for 15 years" 🤩😭

"I'm a Starkid founding member, I really should have a super solo number" - we love you anyway Brian

Super tired but maybe more thoughts later?? Mostly I am just so delighted to have finally seen these glorious nerds live ❤

[cherryc1nnam0n]

I'm bored and I don't wanna write something so have this rant about the (fictional) men I love and why

Hello people

This is Cherry speaking and today I am presenting top men that I love and why are (most of them) them all serial killers who wear masks and are dead? We'll find out here

1. Brahms Heelshire

I mean just look at him, skrunkily wall boi who has never showered, the man with a mask that makes him look so fuckable and submissive and he fucking whines?! Ngh, so hot

I need to lick those man titties with all my might and ride him until his legs give out

But unlucky for me he's dead as fuck so yikes, he's not dead in my mind or in my blog

2. Billy Loomis

Crazy Ghostface boi who can rearrange my guts any time he wants and breed me all he wants mhm mhm

I fucking love Billy because look at him, he's a psychopath but he looks so hot while being it

Who wouldn't love this man??

But again, another one dead, killed by Sydney (fuck you Sydney), but not before leaving his offspring but we won't talk about that now

3. Eddie Munson

The exception to being a killer because he was framed it's my beautiful boi Eddie <3

I love this boi with all my heart and he can touch it with his dick all he wants <3

I fell in love with him when I saw him on Stranger Things 4 and I haven't since then <3

But my boi was eaten alive by a swarm of feral bats and bleed to death in Dustin's arms but he's still alive in my mind, and Tumblr's mind <3

4. Mark Hoffman

My crush from Saw since I watched the movies when I was 6

I have always loved older men for some reason so yeah (daddy issues)

He's not a good apprentice from John because he kills people and doesn't give them the chance of survival but I still love him <3

But as all of them, he was tied up on the original room from Saw and left to die there

It's presumed he's dead because people only survive 3 days without food so he's probably dead as fuck like all of them bois in this list

Still, he's still alive for me so he can breed me all he wants <3

5. Ethan Landry

Another Ghostface crazy boi who died a virgin (not in my mind if you know what I mean)

He was killed in an awful way but he's still hot and submissive and breedable and oh my gosh he's so hot

I am literally obsessed with him and you'll see my latest likes are all Ethan so yeah, fuck me (Ethan) I guess

6. Billy Hargrove

My asshole of a boyfriend who was too weak in spirit to fight off Vecna and died thanks to it

I love him <3

He's my favorite boi that can hit me and fuck me all he wants until I fry and he won't even stop by then so mmmmmhmmm

But again, ded as fuck lol

7. Hannibal Lecter

Cannibal daddy can eat me alive whenever he wants, I have excess skin so he can have all he wants mmmm

He's so pretty and sophisticated and so mmmm

I love him and he can eat me all he wants and breed me too

(I don't remember what happened to him if he died of not but yeah)

8. C!Technoblade

My pig boi who is a genocidal and an anarchist will always live rent free on my mind

(Along with his creator Alex, RIP Techno, we miss you a lot)

But on the DSMP I headcanon he had a lovely wife and two kids who loved him a lot and now they're alone and sad </3

But he's alive in my own AU so it's fine

I love my pig boi

9. Jim Hopper

I mean look at him, he screams DADDY in all his forms

I love hunks for some reason and he's one of them

He can have me whenever he wants

Only exception to being dead lol

Man titties

But anyways. That's everyone I can name off the top of my head so if you until here have a nice day and I love you <3

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

[u10como]

Some time ago, i released this picture on my DA with a caption, later suppplemented by a short story expanding on the theme, followed by personal afterword regarding my background and themes of the story, which i now decided to present here on tumblr, all joined into one text. Once again, english isn't my first language, it was one of the first longer pieces i wrote and i'm by no means a writer, but i hope some of you might enjoy it nonetheless.

Hope you don't mind

You met her on an online forum about your favourite band and you've been messaging for a month now. She was just perfect: Funny, smart and as far as you were aware she was really interested in you, but everytime you suggested meeting somewhere, she said she's either busy or just changed the subject. Not wanting to push her, you gave her some time to think about it.

One morning a message from her, accompanied by a photo landed in your inbox:

"So...this isn't easy for me, but you seem like genuinely good person and i'd hate myself if i passed that opportunity  because i was insecure. Anyway, this is me. I had an accident with high voltage  power lines six months ago and i'm still insecure about meeting new people or going in public in general.

If you feel weird about it i completely understand and won't bother you any more, but if you still want to meet, i know a nice little pizzeria just around corner from where i live. The owner is an old family friend and could arrange a small room in the back for us so people won't stare."

Why should i mind?

As you read the message over and over, your mind is racing, filled with mixed emotions. On one hand, you're relieved – she really wants to meet you after all. On the other hand you can't help but feel sad – such a beautiful, smart girl, full of life, suffering from such horrible injury. Of course, you never for a second consider saying no to her proposition – she is still the great girl you messaged with the past month. You immediately write your reply:

„Hey! Of course i still want to meet you - i've been asking to meet you for some time now and nothing changed about that! Today, 4 in the afternoon works for you? Just tell me where the pizzeria is and i'll wait for you there.“

In few minutes she replied:

„Oh, you can't believe how relieved i am – thank you for not being weird about it! Yes, 4 will be perfect time. The pizzeria is Giovanni's on the corner of Oak and Harbor st – just tell the owner you're Jana's friend, he'll seat you in the back.“

„Well… I have a date!“ you think to yourself. Rummaging through your wardrobe you struggle to find anything you'll be satisfied with – going all dressed up like to prom seems like overkill, but you don't want to come all casual either – after all, you really care for her and you want to show it. In the end you settle for your least worn cargo pants with a T-shirt of your favorite band – you know she likes them too, so you hope this might outweigh your otherwise way too casual look. You set off early, intending to buy flowers for her. After careful consideration, you buy a nice bouquet of seven pink carnations and set off to Giovanni's.

As you step inside ten minutes before 4, the owner – a rather short, somewhat overweight yet muscular man with large hands and a bushy mustache above his friendly smile greets you. „Welcome to Giovanni's, what can i do for you?“ „Uhm, hello, i am Friend of Jana…“ „Oh, Wonderful, wonderful!“ the owner interrupts you with a big warm smile, A friend of our little Jana is my friend too! Right this way, have a seat, i'll bring you a vase for these beautiful flowers. Care for a drink in the mean time?“ „Yes, i saw you serve a homemade lemonade, please.“ you answer. „A wonderful choice! Comming right up!“ says the owner with a wide smile.

With that, the owner runs back front, returning in half a minute with your lemonade served in beautiful tall glass with pieces of lemon, lime and mint leaves, toped with a bright red straw. „Here you go! When Jana arrives i'll send her right away. Now, if i may ask, when did you two met? Pardon me for asking what might be a personal question, but you see, being friends with her parents ever since i moved here, Jana is like niece to me.“ "Oh, don't apologise, i understand.“, you reply, “To be frank, we haven't met in person yet, we were just chatting over internet and i really liked her – and the feeling was mutual, dare i presume.“ „I see“, says the owner, „So you know about…?“, He struggles to put his thoughts to words, instead just shrugs his shoulders one by one.

„Oh? Oh! Yes, i do. In fact, she told me just this morning.“ „I was just asking.“, nods the owner, „You see, our poor little Jana suffered enough. I just don't want her to leave today with a broken heart, so i wanted to make sure you won't freak out or something.“ „Oh no, don't worry, sir. I was asking her for a meetup for two weeks before i knew about it. I liked her before i knew about it and i don't see why it should change anything.“ The owner nods his head „I see. You're good in my books then, kid. I'm glad Jana found someone so understanding.“ He pats your shoulder as he says that.

There is a ring from the little bell above entrance and a young woman's voice calls:

„Uncle Tigran, are you there?“ „That's her.“ Says the owner and rushes off to the front. „My little Jana, it's so nice to see you again! Your friend is in the back, go, have some fun, and when you're ready, call me and i'll be right back to take your order.“

You stand up to greet her. In few seconds, she peeks inside the room with a shy, almost affraid look on her face. As your eyes meet, she smiles at you and you smile back. Despite the smile, her green eyes show a hint of timid apprehension. As she steps in, you notice her motionless hands, convincing at first glance, but knowing her condition, obviously artificial.

"Hi, nice to finally meet you", you say, holding the bouquet of carnations forward. "Oh, these are beautiful, thank you, she says, leaning in to smell them. Looking into her beautiful green eyes, your heart flutters with happiness.

„I'm really so glad to finally meet you in person“ you say. „You're even more beautiful than on the photo .“

„Oh, thank you. Nobody said such thing to me since…“ she pauses, looking into distance. After few seconds she breaks off, shyly attempting to smile on you. „Anyway, would you mind helping me with my coat?“ „Of course, right away“, you say as you move in to unbutton it. As you remove her coat, the prosthetic arms slip off her shoulders, staying firmly inside the coat's sleeves, letting her little arm stumps show. „Oh, sorry, i didn't mean to, let me…“ you stammer an apology.

„No, that's allright. They were meant to come off. I should have told you. I wear them on the street to avoid the stares, but they are so uncomfortable, so since here i am among people who know about me, i just hooked them to the coat so i don't have to wear them all the time.“

As you sit on the opposite sides of the table, you suddenly don't know what to say. You see she is uncomfortable, so you try to steer the conversation a different way.

„So… This pizzeria – It's named Giovanni's, but i heard you call the owner a different name?“

„Oh yes, uncle Tigran gave this establishment italian sounding name as marketing trick. He is great, though, one of the best pizza chefs around. He says he spent five years in Naples learning about local cuisine, actually. I understand you already talked with him?“

„Oh yes, he seems like really nice, but no-nonsense kind of guy. Told me you're like a niece to him and warned me not to break your heart. Not that i intended to, anyway.“, you add with a smile.

„Yeah, uncle Tigran was always nice to me. He visited me in the hospital almost daily when i…“ once again, Jana's gaze slides into distance.

„You don't have to talk about it, i'm sorry if i reminded you in any way.“ You say hastily.

„Oh? No, don't apologize, you did nothing wrong, it's just… Everything reminds me, you know? Wherever i go, whatever i do, every single thing reminds me i no longer…“ she pauses and sighs, lifting her stumps to illustrate her point before continuing „…have arms. Waking up in the morning, i try to lift my blanket and these useless things just flap about helplessly. Reaching for things, trying to do any simple task, even steadying myself when i trip – everything i do i must remind myself i can't do it the normal way anymore. If it was just one i could deal with it, but like this? I feel so helpless sometimes. The first few weeks in the hospital i had to bother the nurses everytime my nose got itchy, not to mention i had to be showered by them, just standing there, leting them clean me off. Tt felt so dehumanising... I'm sorry i spilled all this on you, it's my problem and i should deal with it myself, you don't have to think about it.“ She averts her eyes, looking down into the table.

„Jana,“, you say, „If i wanted not to think about it i wouldn't be here with you – and that would make me quite a bad person, don't you think? I came because i liked you from the moment we started chatting, long before i ever saw you. If there is anything i can do to help you – even if it would be just to stand by your side to always be able to remind you how great person you are whenever should you doubt yourself – i want to be there and help you.“

With tears welling in her eyes, Jana lifts her head „Really? You would do that for me?“

„Of course i would. You are smart, funny and stunningly beautiful. If i can help it, i wish for you never to be sad again“, you reach over the table with a tissue to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

„Thank you,“ she says, suppressing tears, visibly moved. „I never thought i would hear anybody say that to me. Come on - let's order some food, i'm starving.“

As if waiting for his cue, the owner comes in with a big smile „So, what would you want, my dears? We have excellent Margherita Napoletana, but if you're not into traditional pizza, i might do a regular New York style. Most people prefer that, anyway – beats me why, though, there's nothing better than proper traditional italian pie.“

„I think i could go for your Napoletana, Jana told me you're one of the best pizza chefs around, mister… uhh…“ „Tigran Manukyan, at your service.“, he replies with maybe a little too deep bow, „I presume our little Jana here told you about my little trick already, so why should i hide it anymore? Anyway, what can i offer you, my darling?“ says mister Manukyan turning to Jana. „I'll take the Napoletana too, uncle Tigran. And might i ask you for a glass of that lemonade too? It looks so refreshing.“ „Comming right up, my dears“, says mister Manukyan and rushes off.

„So… Where were we?“ asks Jana. „Well,“ you say, „I just told you you're beautiful and i wish to be always there for you.“

„Oh…“ she pauses, but smiles, finally seeming to be at ease, „I mean… Thank you. I'm sorry, I've became quite bad at taking compliments lately – not that i ever was any good to begin with, but now… i mean, you know, with my…“ she says, wiggling her arm stumps.

„You don't have to explain yourself, i understand“, you calm her, „Jusk know you are beautiful to me and nothing can ever change that. In fact, you were beautiful to me long before i knew how you even look, when we were still just chatting.“

Mister Manukyan comes with Jana's glass of lemonade and a pitcher „I brought you two some more for refills – on the house of course. The pizzas will be done in few minutes.“ Almost unisono, you and Jana reply „Thank you, mister Manukyan /Thank you, uncle Tigran“ and with a smile, he leaves.

„Anyway,“ says Jana, „I know you're telling me that just to make me feel better. Why would somebody as cute as you consider someone ‚beautiful‘ just from an online chat?“ she says, leaning forward for the straw and taking a sip from her drink.

„Maybe because i found a great person to talk to and spend time with.“ You reply, looking directly into Jana's eyes. „Maybe i don't care about looks that much. Maybe i think beauty is not only based on somebody's looks. And maybe, or not as much maybe as quite undeniably surely, you are actually beautiful even if i would step so low as to judge you just by your looks. You have pretty face, beautiful hair and the most captivating emerald eyes i've ever seen. But even without that, you are above all the brave, smart girl i came to know and love – and nothing can change that.“

„Brave? How am i brave? I spent half a year hiding from world, almost never leaving my room unless i had to.“ Replied Jana.

„Yet you came here and invited me.“, you say, “You overcame your anxiety and reached out. That alone was braver than most people would ever hope to be. All i ask of you is to believe in yourself as i believe in you. You are the bravest girl in know and i love you for that.“

„I love you too“, she says, hint of tears in her eyes once again as she shifts closer to you with her arm stumps outstretched. Understanding the hint, you hug her, gently stroking her hair with your hand.

„Oh, young love, what a beautiful sight!“ says mister Manukyan as he comes in with your pizzas in each hand „Here is your food, my dears, Bari Akhorzhak to you both!“

„Uncle Tigran,“ says Jana, lifting her head from your shoulders, „this was the first time ever i heard you speaking Armenian in your pizzeria.“

„Well, i figured i might as well drop the act, my dear.“ said mister Manukyan with a smile. „Pizza is my passion and my living, but i'm no Italian and never will be. Maybe it's time for me to fly my true colors with pride. People come here for good food, not for fake Italian. Of course, a name change would be required, then, but i hope people would come nonetheless. After all ‚Uncle Tigran's‘ has a nice ring to it, no? And i might as well put some of my old family recipes on the menu. Next time you come, i'll make you the best Lahmajoun you ever had, i promise!“

„That would be really great, mister Manukyan“, you say with enthusiasm, „I'm looking forward to it.“

As mister Manukyan leaves with a big, warm smile, you and Jana sit to your pizzas. "Do you need any help?" you ask. "No." says Jana almost too quickly. "Well yes, probably, but i shouldn't. I need to do this on my own - i mean, there won't always be somebody around to help me, but i will be always armless, you know?" You notice her suddenly easing up, as if adressing her condition out loud, without euphemisms or hesitating helped her finally come to terms with it. "Would you mind helping me taking off my shoes, though?"

"Of course", you say as you kneel and gently lift her right foot in your hand, taking off her shoe and sock, then doing the same with her left foot. "Thank you. You're a real sweetheart" she says, lifting her feet up to the tabletop, awkwardly picking the fork with her left foot and knife with the right. As you sit on the opposite side of table, you can't take your eyes off her while she cuts a small piece of her pizza and using the fork in her left food brings it to her mouth with a great effort.

"Oooh!" she smiles with pleasure as she savors the food in her mouth, "I almost forgot how great uncle Tigran's pizzas are! You should eat too while it's hot." Taking a bite from your own pizza, you must agree - this is certainly the best pizza you ever had. As you both eat, you notice Jana's movements becoming ever so slightly more fluent and relaxed with each bite. you can't help but stop and look at her, smiling.

"What? Is something on my face?" she asks as she starts rubbing her nose with her right stump. "No, it's just... When you came you were all tense and apprehensive, but now you seem to ease up." "I just know i'm in a good company", she says, shrugging her shoulders, "I mean, yeah, i knew you are funny and kind from the first time we started chatting, but now, you made me feel... appreciated, normal. Like i matter. I... probably just needed to hear that, you know? Like... from somebody outside of my family." "I see," you say, "But how come you weren't so shy when we were chatting on the forum?"

"I don't know, i guess the anonymity played a part, you know?" she ponders, "Like - on the internet, nobody sees me. Nobody knows. There's no way to tell whether the person on the other side is beautiful, ugly, thin, fat or uses toes to write. That probably helped me there."

"Tell me about it," you say. "Sometimes i feel anxious even making a phonecall, let alone talking to strange people in person!" "You?" she smiles "No way! You seem so cool and confident. After all, you asked me out first, i would have never had the guts to do it myself without you."

"The same magic of the anonymous internet as in your case" you reply, "And if i somehow seem confident now, it's only because i feel like we known each other for ages. It's hard to describe, but i feel like we were meant to be together, you know?"

setting down the knife, she extends her right foor over the table towards you, gently stroking your face with her big toe. Smiling, you take her foot in your hands, planting a soft kiss on her ankle. She giggles "That tickles! But... it feels nice." Kising her foot once again, you let go of it, looking deep into her green eyes with a warm smile. "So, are you up for a little stroll after we finish our pizzas?", you ask her. "Gladly!", she replies as she puts another piece i her mouth. "Do you have any specific place in mind?" "Well," you say, "I was thinking of just going for a walk, but if you want, we might go to the gazebo on the cliff above the city and watch the sunset together?" "Oh, romantic!" she exclaims with excitement. "I like that."

When you finish your pizzas, mister Manukyan comes in to clean up, almost as if he was waiting for his cue. "Enjoyed your food, my dears?" he asks, "Everything was up to your liking? "Of yourse, uncle Tigran," responds Jana with a smile, "I always loved your cooking."

As you leave Jana in the back to pay for the food, mister Manukyan says:

"Thank you for everything, kid. Jana really needed someone to just be there for her. She used to visit me every week, but since her accident she just moved back to her parent's house and stoped going out. I knew what she was going through, but i had no idea how to help. Turns out, all she really needed was for someone outside of her family to just treat her with love and respect and you did just that. I won't lie to you - i doubt if stuff would be just *poof* and everything is okay now, people just don't work like that and i am sure there is still a lot ahead of Jana before she's back to the cheerful self i remember from before her accident, but i feel like you really helped her make a big progress today. Once again, thank you for that."

"It was my pleasure, mister Manukyan." you replied, "She is great girl and i fell for her ever since we started chatting." "I'm glad to hear that. And please, you can call me Tigran", he says with a smile, "Or Uncle Tigran, whole town will know me like that anyway soon, at least i hope."

After shaking hands with mister Manukyan, you return to Jana, who is almost prepared to leave. As you help her tie her shoes loose enough so she can slip them on and off at will, you go fetch her coat.

"No, you can leave that here,", she says, "i'll talk with uncle Tigran and ask him to hide it somewhere so i can pick it up later."

"Are you sure? Your arms are in there, don't you want to put them on?"

"Not really. As i said, they are heavy and uncomfortable. Also, they are purely cosmetic, so aside from keeping people from staring, they are pretty much useless.", she said. "And if that means people will stare, then so be it. I need to get used to showing in public and i thought why not now, when i have you by my side?" "As you wish," you reply. "Shall we go, then?"

"Okay. I hope you don't mind being seen in public with a disabled girl"

"Being seen with beautiful smart girl i love? Why shuld i mind?"

A little afterword is due.

This story, while obviously coming from place of my attraction to women with, let's say, non-standard physique, in this particular case bilateral arm amputees, is a departure from my usual style. My usual character background snippets revolve around happier circumstances - my characters usualy lose their limbs voluntarily, non-permanently or in some obscure magic way, which, while it can't be assured to be temporary, has the peculiar side effect of making them weirdly okay with the changes.

This is not the case. In reality, a limb loss is a powerful traumatic experience to vast majority of people. Overcoming such trauma might take weeks, months, years even, and some people may never recover mentally. I felt like this point was worth mentioning and keeping in mind.

As for overall themes of this story, the main themes are hope, acceptance and dealing with adversity. In that sense, Jana's condition is a stand-in for number of problems which might cause a person to lose their sense of self-worth and shut themselves off from the world. If you are suffering from any condition causing you to feel that way, remember this: You Matter. You are loved. And while in real life, recovery will certainly not come as quickly as for Jana in my story, the point illustrated still stands: Some battles are not meant to be fought alone. Sometimes all you need is to find someone who will help you carrying your burden. Remember, that leaning on your friends in hard times isn't weakness. On the contrary, knowing when to ask for help is major strength. And if you do not suffer from any such problems, then please, be mindful of those who do. Be kind, accepting and unconditionally loving as our unnamed protagonist. After all, the protagonist is reffered as You, because they are supposed to represent the best in every single one of us. Man, woman, trans or non-binary, if you're reading this, i hope you will always be as unconditionally accepting as the protagonist is to Jana.

Some elements of the setting sort of come from my own experience. The overall setting of my stories is this usual culturally neutral americano-european mishmash, made for easier accesibility for wider audience, but certain characters or places might carry something from my personal experience. As some of you might know, i am Czech, so i decided to write Jana as one too - even though this might not be really apparent from anything beside her name, that is her intended nationality. Whether you imagine her as local, thinking of this story's setting as somewhere in Czechia or as immigrant to a foreign country of your choice is up to you. Also, the character of Tigran Manukyan is losely based on my own experience: Where i'm from, a lot of pizzerias are actually owned by people from Armenia, Georgia or Turkey and a lot of their owners are very similar to "uncle Tigran" both in their appearance and in their cheerful, friendly way of greeting their customers. Uncle Tigran's character arc is also about acceptance: Accepting own cultural heritage, because every culture is worth preserving.

So, this is the end of my little PSA. Respect each other, be tolerant to one another and try to help those whose life dealt them the worse hand.