#but i think i do have a really lovely group of folks surrounding me here & i will never ever take that for granted

[userastarion]

i am extremely grateful for my lil tumblr community (those i follow and those who follow me) and i love them all and tbh it seems really stressful to have a larger following bc the more people you have, the freer they feel to say whatever they want to you, and i am incredibly grateful to (i hope) have fostered an environment of kindness

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 10!!

Part 10 whaaaaaat??

Alright, so idk if any of you have actually been to NYC, so I played it safe on that end. But I have been (just once), and if you haven't ever heard of Ellen's Stardust Diner, I highly recommend you run (not walk) to Youtube or TikTok or something and search it up. Those folks are amazing, and I had to give the place a nod. Because come on, Aziraphale would LOVE to be served by singing waitstaff.

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*********************

You had all gone downstairs for dinner that night (you were not dressed fancily enough, but no one noticed so you pretended you weren’t feeling inadequate the whole time). Aziraphale ate, Crowley watched, you watched them while you ate, Anathema just ate because she’s the only rational one in the group here, let’s be honest. The second you got back into the room apartment suite, you crashed and were dead to the world until morning.

And so, you wake up, yawning and needing coffee, but otherwise alright. You make your way out of your bedroom, and find Anathema sitting at the large dining room table surrounded by papers, tarot cards, rune stones, crystals, a pendulum, and books. She’s frantically writing on a piece of paper.

“Good morning!” You say as you approach her. She looks up from her work.

“Oh, good morning. How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright thanks. What time is it?”

“Um...about 12:30.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. A lot happened yesterday and you needed to recoup,” she replies with a shrug. You are so grateful for her understanding, but decide to put the effort into not dwelling on it.

“How’s it been?” You ask, nodding at her papers. Anathema sighs.

“Well, I haven’t made any headway yet.”

“Anything I can do?”

The doorbell rings. There’s a doorbell?? Of course there is.

“Oh!” You hear Aziraphale call from one of the living rooms. “That will be the crepes! ENTAAH!” You snort a laugh through your nose. From here you can’t tell if there’s a feather boa, but you can practically hear a feather boa in his voice – you don’t need to see one. Anathema sighs.

“I need...I NEED for you to get one of them out of my hair for a bit. If one isn’t ordering room service, the other one is prank calling the front desk. There’s a mountain of toiletries in the living room, and the doorbell won’t stop ringing. It’s driving me crazy.”

As if on cue, you hear Aziraphale calling from the door: “Crowley! We have enough shampoo!”

Well, babysitting supernatural entities wasn’t exactly the way you thought this would be going, but who are you to argue with Anathema? You nod.

“Any preference which one?”

“No. Just...one of them.”

“Yeah, okay. Give me five minutes.”

“Thank you.” She puts her head in her hands for a moment while you go to get yourself ready.

---------

You and Aziraphale walk down the sidewalk towards Times Square, sipping on frappucinos. Aziraphale had been skeptical about the drink until he saw the mountain of whipped cream and the caramel drizzled on top.

“Have you been here before?” He asks you casually. You shake your head.

“No, but I spend a lot of time on the internet. So I’ve heard things. You can learn a lot just by lurking.” You swirl your straw around the frozen coffee to mix in the last of the whipped cream. “Have you? I mean you and Crowley have been practically everywhere, right?”

“I’ve been once. But it was a very long time ago now. I came for the World’s Fair in 1939. Marvelous, really, the technology at the time. Not nearly as fascinating as how technology ended up evolving of course.”

“Technology isn’t your thing, though,” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“I prefer to admire it from a distance, but I can appreciate it all the same.”

You think about how he has a driver’s license, and the ancient computer in his bookshop. Besides, how would he make tea without a kettle. It makes sense.

“So,” Aziraphale begins, “What is this venture that you need me to accompany you for?”

“Oh I think you’ll like it,” You say with a smile. Aziraphale raises his eyebrows quizzically.

“Oh?” He asks, intrigued, as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Broadway,” You say. Aziraphale’s face lights up.

“Oh!”

“I figure,” You say, “What a shame it would be to spend time in New York City without seeing a show on Broadway. And I’m not sure I trust Crowley’s theatre manners.”

“I understand why you would have that opinion. He can be rather a handful,” Aziraphale says thoughtfully, as though he hadn’t been driving Anathema to insanity himself. “But I assure you, I’ve seen nothing less than exceptional behaviour from him when the two of us have gone together.”

“Well yeah, but that’s with you. There’s a difference,” You tilt your drink towards the angel to emphasize your point. He hums thoughtfully. “So,” You continue, “I figure you and I go see a couple shows. I think we have time for two of them so how about I pick one, then you pick one?”

“I think that sounds like a rather splendid day, in fact,” he says, finishing off his drink and disposing of it in the nearest recycling can.

“Great,” You say, “My pick first.” You dispose of your empty drink container as well, and pause to let the suspense build. “And I choose The Lion King.”

Aziraphale’s face scrunches up.

“Is it bebop?”

---------

Dear Reader, Aziraphale likes Lion King. He does not, however, like I Just Can’t Wait to Be King, or anything to do with Timon and Pumbaa. He is an angel that can forgive many things, but apparently he draws the line at “bebop” and fart jokes.

“I just don’t understand why it was necessary,” he says with a wince afterwards, “And in an adaptation of Hamlet of all things!”

“You say that like your friend Will didn’t write a thousand dick jokes.”

“I suppose,” Aziraphale doesn’t sound convinced. “The rest of it was lovely though,” he adds in a brighter tone, “Breathtakingly artistic, in fact.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” You say with a sigh. In your hand you hold a bag full of merchandise from the show’s gift shop. Aziraphale bought an artbook. “Do you have a choice lined up?”

“I do indeed,” Aziraphale smiles and waves his hands in a rainbow-motion, “The Phantom of the Opera.” His face has so much joy in it.

Watching Aziraphale experience things is mesmerizing. The ways his face moves, the way his voice shifts around when he gets all excited, the way he gasps so audibly when the performance surprises him. It’s an incredible thing to behold, and you absolutely understand why Crowley spends so much time doing it.

“Well before we go see Phantom, I need some food.”

“Oh! Do you have any ideas where to go?” He leans towards you conspiratorially. “Any secrets you heard while Lurking?”

“Well,” You reply, playing into his game, “I have heard stories of a place called Ellen’s Stardust Diner, and I think you’ll like it.”

“And what makes you think that?” His eyes are sparkling with intrigue. Damn. You have to try and keep your knees from buckling, it’s so intense.

“Two words,” You say, “Singing. Waitstaff.” You hadn’t thought Aziraphale’s face could get brighter, but it does, and so you add the cherry on top, the trump card, the finishing blow: “And they take requests.”

-----------

Dinner was great, dessert was fabulous, Aziraphale was willing to put up with the bebop. Especially after you suggested he request a ballad, and they not only took it, but did a wonderful job of it. Phantom was long, but you both enjoyed yourselves.

Why am I suddenly speeding through this, dear Reader? I’m glad you asked.

When the both of you finally return to the hotel, it’s late. Anathema is still hard at work and you notice a definite...lack of Toiletry Mountain. Crowley is sat demurely at the kitchen table with a glass of whiskey.

“Are you okay?” You ask him carefully.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Crowley replies. You look at Aziraphale and shrug. The angel shrugs back before going to grab himself a drink, and you go see Anathema.

“Hey,” You say, “How’s it going?”

“Oh, much better!” She says, looking up at you brightly, “I managed to get things under control, and I got some very promising readings from the top of the Empire State Building.”

“I’m sorry, you went where? How??”

Anathema smirks and glances over at Crowley, then back at you.

“A witch has her ways.”

“And what happened to all the shampoo?”

“I made him give it back and apologize.”

“I...what….” You sputter. It takes all you have to sit down in a chair instead of just fall over. “How do you do this?” You ask, impressed.

“What do you mean?”

“In every fanfiction, in every alternate universe, how do you do this?” You gesture at the kitchen where you know Crowley is still quietly sat, listening to Aziraphale recount your day. Anathema smiles broadly and slides her glasses back up her nose.

“You can’t expect me to give away all my secrets, now.”

Have you ever before been in a room where you so intensely love everyone in it? If not, you have now.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[hibischush]

Dancing headcannons for the bachelors/bachelorettes? Like how good they are, how much they enjoy it etc? I love love love your writing and seriously can't wait for Aug 5th

So sorry for such a late reply! Life & work caught up to me. Who knew that preparing for college took a lot of time, money, and effort, amirite?

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm glad you all enjoy my writing and I'm so excited for August 5th 🌺💗

Bachelors;

Balor

I don't think that Balor would seek out dancing himself or dancing alone

He liked being with groups of people where their focus isn't entirely on him

He's not bad at dancing but not great either, but he's aware of that and still enjoys dancing with others despite mistakes being made

Once in a romantic relationship, he starts to seek out dancing with you during quiet moments

Like think at night in the kitchen, lights are off and the only noise is the sound of the stove heating up a kettle of water for night tea

And Balor slowly rocks the two of you back and forth tenderly and deliberately, not having to say a word to express how much he loves you

March

March is the only person on here that explicitly dislikes dancing

He's never liked it, mainly because he isn't that great at it

He can never match a tempo, he steps on others feet, and he feels like people watch him and make fun of him silently

If you wanted March to dance with you, it couldn't be in public

Being friends with him, its nearly impossible to convince him that you'd teach him

And being romantically involved isn't that much easier

He just gets super nervous of messing up or looking stupid in front of anyone, especially you

Hayden

If you look at Hayden you already know what style of dance he enjoys best

It's gonna be the honky-tonky country dances of western American

This man can throw a hoedown

Hayden is loud and enjoys company, and square-dancing is a wonderful opportunity for him to be himself

He loves the community feeling surrounding it

He's been doing it for years and is a master at it, and willing to teach anyone the dance

Ryis

Ryis enjoys dancing at social outings if he's somehow roped into it

Not to say that he would avoid the dancefloor, but he only wants to dance if someone else wants him to be there

He also knows folk dance styles like square dancing

But I know that he would enjoy jiving the best, especially with a romantic partner

He loves the energy and playfulness behind it

Eiland

Just as his sister had, Eiland was raised with the expectation to know ballroom dances as the son of nobility

Growing up he found the lessons as a drag, and would much rather be out in the field digging than tripping over his own feet for an hour

He was good at dancing, but clearly didn't put in a lot of passion into his movements and his dance partners would be able to tell that he really didn't want to be there

He only really started to enjoy dancing once he met his s/o

that way he had a dance partner he enjoyed, not one that was set up to court him

He'd be showing you off while dancing

Eiland was only taught waltz and variations like the viennese waltz for public usage

But he would definitely enjoy slower and more tender styles like the tango in privacy

Bachelorettes;

Celine

Celine knows how to do most folk style of dancing

She's going to drag you into a hoedown once you're friends you cannot escape it

Reina will make sure you can't escape too lmao

Celine really likes dancing! She doesn't do it often but when the occasion calls for it, she'll do it

She also gives me a lot of irish vibes for some reason, and I can easily see her adapting irish dances like the irish step dance or céilí dance

Celine prefers the excitement and joy found in group dances and likely won't dance alone or in private

Juniper

Juniper would def eat up belly dancing

I feel like its a daily ritual for her

Pop a record in and dance her heart away for 10 mins with Dozy

But other than singular dance styles, she would like partner based styles that are sensual like the Argentine tango

Its slow and requires her to read her partners movements

Idk its going to be the sweetest you've been treated by her because she's so focused on your movements and your reactions to hers

She's good at her 'safe' dances, but she cannot do fast tempos with partners

She will be tripping over you or herself

Reina

Of course Reina likes dancing are you kidding me

She comes from a musical family after all, she'll have some experience

I think she'd know how to do most folk dances by heart, similar to Celine

Like she's been in a hoedown alr

Reina loves to drag her siblings onto the dance floor and likes to improvise her dances to their uncoordinated ones

But if I had to say specific styles that are her favorite...

I would say mambo or west coast swing for ballroom dancing and just general improv for her dancing on her own

Reina looves the WCS because you can work off of your dance partner

Valen

I don't think Valen is one to dance for fun

The most she'd know how to do is just the generic slow dance (think prom dances lol)

I also think that she wouldn't dance by herself for the fun of it, and wouldn't dance in social areas if not required

However, if she had a partner who enjoyed dancing then I'm sure she'd love to dance with you

Valen isn't the greatest at dancing--she's a bit stiff and loses her tempo occasionally-- but she likes to show that she isn't perfect at everything to her partner, and enjoys the closeness

Adeline

I've talked about this before, but Adeline definitely has experience with ballroom dancing

Particularly the waltz/viennese waltz

Any dance with wide, sweeping steps

As a rank of nobility, both she and Eiland were required to learn it

But I believe that she genuinely enjoys it and its one of her only hobbies that can make time for

I think it would be cute if she would teach lessons for the kids in Mistria

She obviously prefers to have a dancing partner, and she'll enjoy having a friend or a romantic partner to dance with

Since she dances often and has years of practice, she is quite good at it

I could see her being interested in ballet (esp pointe)

I hoped y'all liked this. Also apologies for any mistakes on the names of/styles of dances are incorrect! I do not dance on the daily lol

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Motherlode

And here I find myself again, circling back to the same basic thoughts about this arc that really only stretched itself out to about double what I and most others predicted. You get my angle right? While the world's watching, while the fandom's watching someone not named Nico Robin give a little nuggie of Void Century lore...200 chapters after Bakura Town, 100 after Kiku's fall, in a chapter after one with a folk lore allusion title. Stussy breaks the seal. Speaking more or less the same trauma. It's even the same central idea of Wano; ensuring the Straw Hat's escape was Stella's final command. It all runs on that old school Japanese take on ideal feminity; "A woman's happiness is taking care of those she loves." Self-sacrifice to repay kindness towards you.

Bonney has so much to compare and contrast, you're a solid candidate for someone who could kinda fuse Kiku & Yamato, but Stussy? You're our Tamataebako buddy with the same eyes. A trans woman and a clone, can't say it isn't relatable and they both have a demonic facade without an ounce of action girl tomboy tropes. Stussy can nab that torch now just like Bonney could have. But you still exist in that space. Why are we doing you now, after the others? We still have cards unplayed from Wano. When their theme is subtlety one should expect waiting until the final phase.

This chapter gives me a lot that has me excited.

We have a whole theme this chapter of people responding again and doubling down on the idea these different faces we know are reacting differently to Vegapunk's speech. Things different fans are reacting to. Wano the Joyboy lore, Carrot the weaponry, but it's one of those simple tricks that fuel a big deception. None of it is really that much deeper than clarifying what we as readers sorta knew. Of course, for Wano...it isn't the full group but we see a group. It'd make perfect sense for Kiku to be smiling and holding a tray with the implication she brought the dango, she could appear any example of this cover serial...but this is how you have to look at things when strategic absence is an established motif. Oh, and I guess Shino just got to stay youthful. Rock on mature woman, enjoy it.

The world is merely learning more or less what we know. The real story is still playing out. Stussy, the escape, this time we aren't breaking away. It's almost like a good rap track where the first two verses are smooth and melodic leading into a rapid-fire third verse to really hammer the message. I think we'll stick with that as the message unfolds. But this arc has just enough gas it's the opening act not the final point in and of itself. What makes me feel confident this time? Glad you asked:

Nojiko caring more about the farm bolsters this and her alone would have me freaking the fuck out but...bruh. Miss Goldenweek? Goldie!? Marianne and her hilarious in hindsight apple hat? Peep the suitcase, they're leaving to find Cross Guild. But yeah! Miss Friggin Goldenweek and Nojiko have an interesting response to this worldwide message. I love it too. They don't really seem to care much. Nami's big sister and a mellow girl that was one of Luffy's most vexing opponents. She got a cover serial, this little lady was always an oddball waiting to surprise us. For now though this is dope. Don't let her demeanor fool you, she was clearly a top agent for a reason and the reasons really aren't that different than the archetype I see out of Kiku.

What specifically does it though is how she's paired with the reaction focusing on the common people killed as collateral damage. Now let's take it altogether. Because something else going on under the message brings us back to where this felt most powerful:

Uh-oh. The big cloud layer is under attack. The Elbaf ship is getting surrounded. What if they weren't enough? For all the talk about other stuff that could happen if the Giants are the penultimate surprise addition...is it just gonna be the Grand Fleet after all? They make so much sense big picture. Robonosuke is still hanging around at the edge of all this too. Because things are getting dire on Egghead underneath the lore dump.

All in all...I love this shit right now because it's exactly what I've been on about since Wano ended. Wall to wall this chapter. 1115 is a straight banger.

[evolutionsvoid]

As you can imagine, there are some species out there that almost everyone loves. Then there are species that most people absolutely hate (don't lump me in with them, though). And of course there are many that people are mostly neutral on, not having much to say about it really. No emotional opinions, no crazy stories or tangents to be found. A large amount of creatures land on this option, as they don't really do much to sway one's thoughts, be it good or bad. Of course, there will always be the few folk who are very vocal of their thoughts, but that doesn't do much to dent the public's mental image of a certain species. But sometimes there are particular creatures who garner incredibly polarizing opinions, where people either really like them or furiously despise them. Hardly any in between! Each person you ask will have their own loud thoughts about it, jumping from "oh they are wonderful!" to "KILL EM ALL, I SAY!" in a single group of people. It's crazy! To have such wildly different opinions on one single species! You wouldn't think it possible, as how can a creature evoke such array of feelings? Well, if you ever met a harpy, I think you would quickly see why. 

I feel that harpies are a species that don't need much of an introduction. They are a rather famous species and tales surrounding them have spread far and wide. But to make sure everyone is well aware, harpies are a species of bird that are found in a wide variety of ecosystems. They are highly adaptable and ever so clever, so as long as the climate isn't too extreme, they tend to find a way to make it all work. Obviously, one cannot talk about the harpy without bringing up their appearance, as that is one of the big reasons why this species is so well known. Overall, they have a somewhat owl-like build and appearance to them, but with some differences here and there. They do not have zygodactyl feet, rather more anisodactyl but the back toe is very flexible and capable of rotating. Compared to most other birds, they are actually very dexterous, capable of gripping, twisting and a variety of other things! The other feature they have are the clawed thumbs on their wings. While some see sharp pointy bits and immediately assume weapon, often these digits are for grooming or helping clamber through cluttered branches and tight spaces. And, of course, there is their face. Honestly, I imagine some people think I am stalling since I didn't bring this up first. The face of a harpy looks rather flat compared to other birds, and the feathers atop their heads are very thin long and fine. They hang limply down from their skulls, giving the impression of a flowing mane of hair. Their beaks seem quite small, despite a wide mouth hidden beneath their feathers. And with big eyes like that and easy to see nostrils, some folk see a human face upon these birds. And some other features, of course...

Yes indeed, the harpy has often been seen as a human bird hybrid, with some folk believing that they are some strange mammal bird mix or the result of some terrible curse. Furthering the point are the prominent "breasts" upon their chests, two features that humans cannot seem to tear their eyes away from. Unfortunately, I think they are a big reason why some folk and stories paint harpies in a very....seductive light. Flowing hair, bright lively eyes and large plump breasts, things that drive human males wild (supposedly)! I guess me being a dryad makes me ignorant to the appeal, as we lack the bulbous milk sacs that are so unique to mammals (though some human artists and storytellers may say differently on that). In truth, the two bulbs upon their chests are actually air sacs, used in boosting their calls and songs. Males of the species have much larger ones than the females, which causes endless confusion in humans. These sacs are why harpies are often believed to be an all female species, despite that making no sense (and before you point at dryads, remember we are a species whose majority identify as female). And even when you get someone to remember that there are male and female harpies, they will point to the ones with the biggest pair and say that one is the female. No, the males are the ones with the notably large "bosoms," but believe me that is a battle we will never win. Regardless, the males have larger air sacs to make their songs louder and to puff them up nice and big when it is time for courtship. I am sure there are some humans getting a real kick out of all of this...

When it comes to diet, harpies are opportunistic omnivores that are open to eating....well...anything. Fruit, bugs, nuts, small rodents and anything edible you leave lying around. Though their small beaks are not suitable for cracking open hard shells or tearing open carcasses, they usually find a work around. One is their wide mouths and stretching throats, which allow them to straight up swallow a lot of their food. A harpy doesn't need the cutlery to chop up a dead rabbit, they just throw their heads back and choke the whole thing down in one go. Always kind of funny to put that image side by side with the seductive, beautiful bird maidens that people like to fantasize them as. Your lovely bird woman is downing a rotting pork bone right now. And good to bring up food like that, because harpies will absolutely pick stuff out of the garbage. In fact, it is why they tend to set up their nests near villages and cities, as there is always something edible being thrown away. And if it isn't being tossed out, they may figure out a way to get anyways.

One of the reasons harpies are so well known and can cause people to have wildly different opinions about them is their cleverness and trickery. They are incredibly smart birds, able to learn from watching others, memorize patterns, use tools and mimic behaviors. For example, their beaks are not well equipped for cracking tough nuts, so harpies have learned to dump these foods onto roads with heavy carriage and caravan traffic. The horses and wheels will do the job, and they will swoop down when all is clear to collect their reward. They can also learn schedules, like when a farmer goes to feed their livestock every day, and when best to sneak in to grab some grains for themselves. On top of this big brain is incredibly vocal mimicry, which allows them to regurgitate pretty much any sound they have ever heard. And this includes speech! Harpies can mimic the sounds of dogs barking, swords clashing, children playing, and phrases they have heard while sitting upon the roof tops. A harpy can replicate a voice so well, that they tend to fool people who cannot see them! If a harpy was in another room out of sight, and they called to you in the voice of your partner, you wouldn't suspect it came from a bird! You wouldn't think twice! With incredible memories and smarts, they can remember dozens of words and phrases, and spit them back out flawlessly. 

However, I must dampen the excitement for a moment. The thing I want to point out is that while harpies can mimic speech and sound like they can talk like any other dryad or human, they cannot actually talk. At least not in the way we interpret it. Harpies are not speaking or trying to convey the actual meaning of these words, they are simply spitting out noises that they have heard. They don't actually know the definition of these words, they just know the usual response to these sounds. Like if I were to say, "hey, can you hand me that key?" in front of a harpy enough times, they may start saying it too. But the thing is, they aren't asking if you would hand them an actual key. Most likely, they see you giving me a shiny object, and think this is the phrase that makes others hand over shiny things. They don't understand it as a request for a single, specific object, they don't even know it is a question. To them, there is no "yes or no" to come from this, they say the noise and the shiny toy is immediately handed over. If not, they get confused or agitated. So if you ever go to a circus or show where they present a fully "fluent" harpy who can sure talk and act like a real deal person, remember that it is the result of countless hours of training and a very tight and staged script. "But Chlora, they sometimes pick out random people in the crowd to talk to them, and they follow along without a hitch!" Yeah, "random." Do you seriously need to have a dryad tell you what a "plant" is?

This vocal mimicry is used for a variety of things, be it wooing mates with elaborate songs and performances, or scaring away predators. Harpies will memorize the sound of dangerous animals in the area, and use them accordingly to spook potential threats. If someone is getting too close for comfort, the rattle of a manticore's scales will certainly make them change their minds! They may even use the sounds of people to scare pests and problems, as a human voice startles quite a few critters! Combined with their wit, and you will find scenarios where harpies found that particular phrases or noises can lead to some interesting results. A good example came from a village that was thrown into a full blown panic when the horn from the watchtower sounded. This alarm was used for approaching dragons or armies, and the people were ready to start a full scale evacuation. Thankfully, before things got too out of hand, the folks in the watch tower spotted the harpies nearby and declared a false alarm. It turns out the birds learned that this big horn noise made all the little people scamper away and leave their valuable tasty things behind. 

Another case revolved around a trade route that was besieged by bandits. A nasty gang had set up shop in a wooded part of the road, where they could hide and ambush lone traders. Each time, they would loudly demand that the victim leave all their belongings behind and run, or face the consequences. If you emptied your pockets and fled, they would let you live. Refuse, and they would gut you. Many carts and traders were robbed, but eventually authorities tracked down the bandits and captured them. But days after the arrest, another robbery occurred. And then another, and another. People believed that the guards had taken the wrong men or missed a few of them. Only after thorough investigation did they find a group of harpies who had learned to mimic the loud demands of the bandits, and noticed that this noise made people drop their shinies and run. This revelation also brought to mind the cases where the "robbers" attacked fruit carts and other food laden travelers, despite these targets carrying very little coin. But when threatened with your life, a lot of folk don't stop to think if it is truly bloodthirsty criminals or a bird that is screwing with you to get some free apples. 

With this trickery and mimicry in mind, you can start to see why some people would like them or hate them. Harpies are very capable of mischief, and are always fans of easy food. If they can find a way to rob a fruit stand, or swipe a meal from a distracted customer, they will gladly do so. They also like shiny or colorful objects to decorate their nests with, so they will totally fly off with trinkets and coins if they see an opening. Then there is the fact that harpies are incredibly sociable and in need of enrichment, so they do a lot of things for fun or to strengthen bonds with their flock. Groups of harpies can come up with their own games and ideas of "play" which may or may not be fun for the people affected by them. Some games can seem like them just screwing with people, stealing things or being nasty little vandals. They grow close to other harpies and other creatures who are nice to them, and can absolutely hold a grudge if someone wrongs them. Their memory can be applied to faces, and they will totally remember your face if you do something to anger them. In a way, harpies are also mimics when it comes to behavior, as they will copy the way you treat them and do the same to you. Villages with good relations with local harpies typically are very kind to the birds and do not antagonize them, while places terrorized by furious birds are probably guilty of doing something heinous to them previously. So if you find someone who likes harpies, then the birds probably like them. If you see someone who hates them, know that the harpies hate them too.

As I mentioned previously, harpies grow close to the beings who are nice to them and join them in their socialization. This means that anyone can create a bond with a harpy, provided they put in the effort and give plenty of gifts. Offerings of food and trinkets can get their attention, as well as helping them when they are in a bind. Rewarding certain behaviors can even lead to things like trade, where harpies will bring you goodies that you like to get prizes in return. I have met many folk who have developed relations with the local harpies, and find them very good company. Joining in their games or even doing things for them to watch with amusement, there is plenty on can do to make harpies interested in you. However, before you get it in your head that you want a pet harpy, know this: harpies can live for over seventy years, need a lot of social interaction and are very easily stressed. These animals are not toys, they are not things you can push aside when you get bored with them. Harpies need to socialize, they need to play and they need to make sure their bonds are strong. Ignoring them, leaving them for long periods of time or not treating them right will agitate them, stress them and cause their health and mind to deteriorate. Cages are also a terrible thing for them, as they need lots of space. They also get jealous very easily if they really like you and can throw fits when they feel left out. So when it comes to harpies as pets: absolutely not! If you want harpy friends, look to your local flock of harpies and try to strike up relations with them. Harpies make good neighbors and friends, not pets!

Chlora Myron 

Dryad Natural Historian

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

"Harpy" (also why is the picture so dang big)

Harpies were inevitable, and I am sure some folk were expecting something more wild, but I absolutely adore this look. I find them very charming! Maybe you will get your more monstrous versions later!  

Also I am positive I forgot some things in this entry. But there is always a chance for further ones!      

[elliegoose]

got tagged by @annunakitty in a thing! yippee tag game!

now the tag game was to introduce yourself with:

one tv show

one movie

one album

one video game

however, i'm doing two for each category! why? because i'm cute and special and get to change the rules, of course! and also because i'm really enthusiastic about sharing my favorite things with people.

tv shows: adventure time & scavengers reign

not being able to pick between these two shows is the reason i'm doing two for each category. adventure time is my all-time favorite show hands down, but scavengers reign took second place (overtaking russian doll, which previously held that rank) when it absolutely blew me away earlier this year. i've watched it twice now and definitely plan on giving it a third watch sometime soon.

movies: i saw the tv glow (2024) & suspiria (2018)

as someone who repressed my gender really hard throughout most of college after flirting with transitioning in high school, this movie really spoke to me. i've seen it twice now and found a lot of value in the rewatch. i definitely want to watch it again at least one more time. this is an incredibly profound movie that has changed me as a person.

on the other hand, suspiria (2018) is an enduring favorite of mine for a very silly reason. it is a straight up good movie, but the actual reason it's my second pick for this post is that for like a year after first watching it, i kept seeing the mangled bodies of characters from it as sleep paralysis hallucinations. it was terrifying at the time but i find it incredibly funny to look back on, and think very fondly of this film in general. i got to rewatch parts of it for free irl! thanks, sleep paralysis demons!

albums: feather river canyon blues by pigeon pit & kudzu, devour everything! by levees

for two years now, feather river canyon blues has very unambiguously been my favorite album of all time. it's lomes oleander's bold, dense, imagery-filled lyricism at its best, backed by the full band that her voice deserves playing alt-country sounds that strike the perfect balance between gentle and energetic. it's simultaneously desperate and hopeful, joyous and melancholy, and at every moment filled to the brim with emotion and beauty. this album feels like watching every sunset at once surrounded by your best friends and loved ones. transgender folk music will save us. if you have to pick one song from this album to listen to, make it milk crates:

kudzu, devour everything! is the reason i started playing banjo. levees is a friend of a friend, and i was introduced to their music because said friend was praising this album in our friend group's discord server. i find levees' idiosyncratic manner of clawhammer playing--often very fast and full of non-traditional rhythms--to be absolutely magical. their songwriting is also excellent, full of vivid stories and characters sung about in prose that weaves effortlessly between the elegantly straightforward and beautifully dense. i also recommend listening to their album vultures, as well as quarantipilation volumes 1 & 2. it's actually not one of the songs that contains banjo, but if you have to pick one to listen to from this album, i recommend her/hymn/their, which won't embed for some reason but hey here's the link

(also, honorable mention to drink the sea by the glitch mob, which is the first album i ever really fell in love with, and which inspired little 13-year-old elise to grab a copy of ableton and learn how to make music myself. until feather river canyon blues came along, i would have probably picked drink the sea for this post.)

video games: signalis & mice tea

first off, i cried at the end of signalis! while streaming! it was really, really good!!! it has a delightfully dreadful atmosphere, great story, very interesting worldbuilding, phenomenal art style, and excellent character design. plus, it was great for practicing my german. i strongly recommend signalis to anyone who likes survival horror.

second off, yes, i am choosing mice tea, a transformation fetish visual novel, as my second pick here. judge me all you like. i stand by my choice. its story is fun! the characters are excellent! its humor and conceptual ridiculousness disarm you and make way for genuinely emotionally impactful storylines! it has a lot of interesting commentary on gender! it almost single-handedly turned me into furry! also, it's hot! go play mice tea!

now, finally, it is time to tag! don't feel pressured to pick multiple things or provide explanations like i did! i just enjoy doing more than is assigned lmao. tagging @rotten-spaceymage, @birras0, @citrusuprising, @roboticvenusian, @femboty2k, and anyone who sees this and wants to do it themselves!

[sugoiney-weaver]

A Guided Tour of the Fortress Blizzardpaddles

Starting from the top of the fortress, I have a mist generator on the roof

Above the entrance I have a public tavern and a small library. Archer towers surround my fort, though they've never been put to use.

Before the archer towers, I build this platform for my archers. Also never used. The platform in the center was originally just meant to keep snow and rain from falling into the fortress.

At ground level, we have corpse and refuse stockpiles, beehives, nest boxes, and a garden.

On the main floor, we have the trade depot right at the entrance. I separate my trade goods into two stockpiles: one for elves, and one for everyone else. I recently overhauled my military and relocated some of the barracks and archery ranges. at the south is my fishery, which is protected with iron grates in the river and glass blocks above. I'm not sure why but I have perpetual ice in the river. To the east are some new farms I'm building to scale up my dye and cloth production. I also have my surface hospital here, seed storage, and a mist generator.

Below I have archery ranges, soap making, my citizen's/residents tavern (recently rearranged) milling and pressing, farms, and farmer workshops. I'm proud of that tower sticking up out of the water. The river here freezes from mid-autumn to early spring but it was a race against the clock to get that watertight.

Here I have food & Drink storage for the tavern above. I also have a large library with hundreds of written works. Beneath the soapmakers workshops is a stockpile of lye, oil, and tallow. Below the farmers workshops is a stockpile for wool, milk, and processable plants.

Food and drink production, including butchers, ashery (supplying lye upwards), stills, and kitchens.

Storage and supplies for food & drink production, and block & brick storage. meltable objects are above the smelters for recycling.

Manufacturing level. I try to keep workshops grouped by supply chain, with stockpiles above and below in a way that makes sense. See below for an example.

Wood feeds the carpenters and the wood furnace. Fuel is near all the furnaces, kilns, and forges. Textile industry is grouped together. This requires quite a bit of planning, and learning from experience from previous forts.

TEMPLES! I started making quadruple-size temples for the faiths with ~100 followers, because the smaller ones were getting very crowded. Every temple has a bunch of instruments, and almost all of them have a dedicated performer. The large temples are built with steel block walls.

Nobles apartments, and museum.

Guildhalls. I'm starting to build more even if the guilds aren't established yet. As my economy grows more complex, there are a lot more job titles, so there are fewer guilds being established.

Residential quarter. This is my first time giving everyone a 4x4 bedroom. I used to do 1x3 bedrooms, which allowed me to fit 12 rooms per block. I think the dwarves prefer the extra space though. I spent several years renovating the bedrooms by replacing stone walls with porcelain brick, and they LOVE it!

Tombs. Too many tombs. Most of them are full, a lot of them are pets though. My dungeons is here, with my Cask of Amontillado'd werelizard in the northeast corner.

And finally, several layers below, is my cavern hospital. It's really nice to have a second hospital down below for when the Amphibian Folk come and fuck with us.

That's all for this fort. My FPS hovers between 8 and 15 so it takes about 15 hours to go through a single year. I don't want to be done with it, but it's getting unbearably slow.

[gyoobies]

Voila Magic!

Pairing: Kun x Fem Reader 

Genre: Smut, fluff, fated lovers, strangers to lovers

Warnings:  Minors DNI, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap folks!), first date sex. 

Summary: After You and your friends miss your flight back home you decide to spend your extra day in Vegas doing a little sight seeing, but when a peculiar stand attracts your attention you find yourself in a small magic show off the Vegas strip. (leave me alone I tried.  Y’all know I hate summaries lol!) I didn’t intend for this to be this long but Kun, I-  ...Dah welp!🤷🏾‍♀️ Word count: 5798

It’s kind of proofed but also I was a lil tipsy when I did it so.... yea.

     Oh come on! It's not that bad; so what we missed our flight, at least we were all able to book our rooms another night and we're in Vegas! Let's have one last hoorah before Tiffany jumps the broom next week!

You rolled your eyes at your friend, annoyance oozing from your pores at their statement. "Tiffany's not even here; she was able to make her flight unlike us."

"Sorry for enjoying sin city."

"Oh was that his name?” Your other friend laughed, breaking the tension.

You sighed, and laid back on your friend's bed. " I guess the silver lining is at least now I can see the things I wanted to."

"Uggghhh you mean the boring things don't you? Do we really have to waste our extra night in Vegas doing those kinds of things?"

You sat up with a smirk, "Absolutely not because You're not invited!" You got up to make your grand exit, dodging the pillow she chucked at you on your way out the door of her room.

Trying to make the most of your last day in Vegas you planned out your whole day, ALONE. It wasn't that you didn't love your friends but 4 days straight of partying was enough, today you had a mani-pedi booked, brunch at a tea house and a little shopping to do before picking what show you planned to see this evening. 

There was no shortage of entertaining messages in the group chat between you and your friends.

🎭: can you believe she ditched us to go to exhibits and shows?!!! It's Vegas! You're supposed to party!

👰: this is probably why she ditched you both.

🍒 : I like to believe that I had very little to do with her decision to fly solo today.

🎭: wooooow! Traitor.

🥱: lol!

🥱: da fuck?! Why is my cat emoji now the yawn emoji?

🎭: Because you're boring.

👰: 🤣

🍒: 💀 

🥱:  I would be upset if I wasn't enjoying my day so much ... you ass.

You shook your head, laughing to yourself, as you admired the shimmering rose gold color on your toes. You'd considered getting your  nails done in the same color but the wedding was only a week away so you decided to get French tips instead, as requested by the bride. As you exited the salon into the upscale surroundings of the shops inside the hotel, you took notice of a small stand, so small if it hadn't been for the colors you'd have easily overlooked it. Seemingly out of place with It's bold black color and red trim accompanied by pure white text that simply read "Voila!" Before you knew it your feet were moving in the direction of that oddly placed little stand almost on their own. Now standing before the little stand, you reached out to pick up the only thing displayed on it, a flyer.

"Voila Magic! shop & show."  You giggled a bit thinking about how there were promoters of every kind lining the streets of the strip and yet it was a simple stand, with a simple flyer that stood out in the oddest way amongst all the flashy, lavish shops surrounding it that captured your interest. You took the flyer with you folding it in half and tucking it in your purse before continuing on your way to do a little shopping.

As the day went on you didn't regret one second of your alone time especially when the "wish you were here" message came through your phone with a photo attached, and of course it was a photo of your wonderful friends in a pool with 2 attractive men, nothing shocking there. They had made it their goal to conquer any hot guy that crossed their path. You took a little while to send a reply, not because you had to think of what to say, but because someone in the background of their photo had caught your attention, much like the odd little stand had not too long ago. You couldn't see his face, but his vibrant red hair and well sculpted shoulders had garnered more of your attention from the background of a photo than anyone had since the trip began.

You typed a quick reply, “The strawberry in the back?” and hit send waiting briefly for a response. It didn’t take long to get one.

“HE’S SO HOT! But he’s not with our guys.” 🙁

You sent a simple response, “Unfortunate” before continuing on with your shopping. 

This was the way you preferred to enjoy “sin city”, spas, shopping and now a five star lunch. It wasn't at the Tea House like you had wanted, but you were in no mood to wait an hour to be seated and this place looked promising. You sipped your cocktail on the restaurant's patio while you waited for your food, the red umbrella sticking out of the drink sent your mind racing back to the handsome  stranger with the red hair in the background of the photo. Sure you'd never seen his face but you figured he had to be handsome, who would dye their hair such an attention grabbing color if they didn't have anything to show off? It also helped that your friend confirmed your suspicion. The voice of the waiter speaking to you as he placed your food on the table is what pulled you from your thoughts.  You quickly thanked him and began to eat, wondering why it seemed so hard for you to shake thoughts of a man whose face you couldn't see, and you'd never meet from your mind. The flyer you'd kept from the curious little stand fell to the table, once again grabbing your interest as you took out you wallet to pay for your meal.

"A magic show?!" Your friend yelled from the other end of the call you were currently on as you got ready to head out for the evening. 

"You're seriously not going to hang with us at all today?!"

"Well the two of you could always come with me."

"Pass" They replied in unison.

"Your show starts pretty early, just meet up with us after. I just sent you the address."

You groaned at the location but agreed to meet your friends at the club after your show was done anyway.  

You had no idea why but there was an almost electric feeling in the air as you made your way down the aisle of the small theater to locate your seat. Your heart raced wildly, adrenaline surging through your veins as the rest of the crowd filed in. You were almost overwhelmingly excited, although you weren't exactly sure why. Maybe it was all the time you'd spent as a child attempting to pull a rabbit out of a hat or master a card trick, whatever it was, you felt like it was meant for you to be there in that moment. 

The lights went dark and a booming voice came from the shadows of the stage. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement from the crowd as a spotlight illuminated the magician at the center. You, along with the rest of the audience were enthralled by the showmanship of the magician and you thought for a moment that if your friends had taken you up on your offer they'd have enjoyed the experience too. Oh well, their loss. All too soon the show was over, but not before the magician performed one last trick, seeming to make a door to the magic shop that was advertised on the flyer appear out of nowhere. Cautiously you followed the lights along the floor of the theater to the entrance of the shop.Inside, your curiosity was set free as you walked the aisles of the shop that was much bigger than the theater, your inner child was absolutely elated. You moved further to the back of the shop finding an area filled with books and miniature dioramas of magicians on stage performing different tricks. 

The warm lighting and the aesthetic of the shop called to you, begging you to indulge in a few well angled selfies for social media. You took a quick glance around to be sure there wasn't anyone around to see you be "that person", satisfied that you were alone in the area you snapped a couple selfies. Pleased with the outcome you continued to explore, stopping to admire the knickknacks and beginner friendly magic kits that filled the spaces of the bookshelves around you. You ran your fingers along the edge as you made your way through the aisles, only stopping when a book bearing a title that was almost exact to the name of the show caught your eye. "VOILA! And That's Magic" you felt the need to buy it, even if it was for nothing else but to have a physical reminder of tonight's enchantment. You reached out to remove the book and were startled when you were met with an eye looking back at you.

"Sorry, I  didn't mean to scare you." He laughed. 

"It's ok, I just wasn't expecting to move a book and see an eye."

"That's fair, the odds that two people would remove two different books, on opposite sides of a bookshelf, at almost the same time, from the same spot, have to be pretty low."

You laughed at his statement but agreed with his assumption.  

"Beautiful"

The single word caught you by surprise. 

"Huh?"

"Beautiful, you're beautiful." The first part of his statement comes out a lot more confident than the last.

You couldn't help but to laugh at his sudden admission.  "How would you know? You can just barely see half of my face."

You watched as he slowly tapped under his eye, reminding you of the gems you had used to add a little something extra to your eye makeup tonight. 

"Your makeup. I recognize the eye makeup of the woman that sat two rows down from me, that's how I know you're beautiful."

You stood there speechless at his words, trying to think of what to say in response. Clearly malfunctioning, your lack of a timely response made the stranger behind the bookshelf feel like he may have creeped you out.

"I'm  sorry I didn't mean to come off weird or anything. I'll let you continue."  And as he stepped away you caught a glimpse of bright red hair and felt your heart begin to race. 

"Wait!"

Almost immediately he was back at the narrow opening in the bookshelf. 

You narrowed your eye at him.

"Were you just waiting out of view?" 

He began to blush. " I- I didn't want to walk past your aisle after embarrassing myself."

Butterflies? Were you seriously getting Butterflies over a blushing eye?! 

"I'm not creeped out or uncomfortable, I was just surprised to know that I had an admirer, but it's not fair you know what I look like but I'm only acquainted with an eye." You said as you quickly glanced down at your phone screen to see a text from your friends, undoubtedly asking when you'd arrive at the club they gave you the address to earlier, when you looked back up he was gone.

"Hello! Are you there?" Nothing. Placing the book back on the shelf, you let out a sigh and began to make your way down the lengthy aisle to leave the shop. "Maybe he wasn't cute and didn't want me to know." You said to yourself as you stopped briefly to type a reply to your friend.

"Wow, did you just call me ugly?" 

You snapped your head up from your phone to see probably the most attractive man you'd seen this entire trip smiling down at you. That buzz, that electric feeling in the atmosphere was back and you could feel your heart thumping against your chest as he stared dreamily at you. 

"Where's your book?" 

"I- um, I wasn’t sure if I really needed it or if I just wanted it"

"Wants and needs, they’re basically the same thing. Wait here" he said as he made his way to retrieve the book. 

This was unlike you, how could someone you'd only just met have such an effect on you? Then again, he had this effect on you even before you'd met him. As he made his way back to you, you realized that there had been a magnetic feeling drawing you to him since you'd spotted him in the background of your friend's photo maybe even before then. You thought back to the way the stand advertising the "magic shop and show" you were now standing in the aisles of  seemed to pull you in, and just as you were finishing that thought he was back in front of you, book in hand.

"Thank you." You said as you reached for the book, only to have him pull away with it.

"Let me." he said, a beautiful smile beaming, dimples on full display.

You gave him a questioning look, confused by his actions.

"Let me buy it for you, this way when you look at it, you'll think of me."

"Wow! You are really taking it there and you haven't even told me your name."

His smile faltered and his face began to turn the softest shade of pink, as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry, I'm Kun and I'm horrible at flirting apparently"

"I don't think you're horrible at it, you're just .... yeah it's bad I can't even lie." You laughed.

"Well you're bad at it too because you haven't told me your name yet."

"But who said I was flirting?" You quipped.

"Oh, that's how you wanna play it?"

The moment your phone rang, you rolled your eyes and sighed. "One second I should answer this."

Of course it was your friend yelling your name at the top of their lungs.

"That was highly unnecessary." you responded.

"We have a VVIP booth! When will you be here?"

"Isn't 10pm a bit early for you two to be this drunk already? You whispered as you looked over to see a very amused Kun.

"So that's your name?" He asked as he stepped closer to you after noticing the way you let your eyes trail over him. There it was again that feeling, like this is where you should be, you wondered if he felt it too. 

"WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Your friend yelled.

You didn't immediately answer because he was now leaning so dangerously close to your face.

"You going to tell her or can I?"

You quirked your head curiously, wondering what exactly he'd tell her, so you handed him your phone. He introduced himself and immediately the shrieking voices of your friends could be heard through your phone. He quickly returned it to you.

"What's wrong?" You giggled.

"I think my eardrums are vibrating." 

"UM HELLO! WE'RE STILL HERE!"

You turned your attention back to your friends, offering a quick "I'll text you." and  ending the call.

It was silent as the two of you stood there just staring at each other, neither of you remembering where your original conversation left off before your call.

"Um, so what brought you to this show tonight?" He asked.

"Actually it's a bit of a long story."

"Well this is a big shop, I've still got plenty I want to see, and if you're willing, I'd love to hear it while we look around." 

The two of you spent the next hour chatting, well, you did most of the talking, filling him in on how you missed your flight and how you ended up at the show. You explored many areas of the shop together, until a voice rang out over the speakers. "Can two lovebirds kindly make their way to the front checkout at this time? We'll be closing up soon."

You looked at each other and laughed. 

"I guess we've overstayed our welcome." 

Kun laced his fingers through yours almost instinctively and pulled you along to the front. The two of you apologized to the man at the register as Kun placed the basket on the counter.

"Don't worry about it, this place is so full of magic people could get lost in here for hours."

 You looked over at Kun as he paid for all the items that made their way into the basket throughout the evening, and found yourself admiring his features; the curve of his lips, the way his dimples appeared and eyes scrunched up as he smiled. You took one last look before turning to the man behind the counter and giving him a thank you before the two of you left to exit.

"Ah I love this feeling!" The man said before you reached the door causing you to both turn at his peculiar statement, though you were certain you knew the feeling he was talking about, the same feeling you'd been feeling since entering the theater.

"The electric feeling?" 

You snapped your head in Kun's direction, he had felt it too. The old man waved his hands in a grand manner and the doors of the shop opened behind you.

"Last time I felt the air filled with this much energy was when I met the love of my life." And with one final wave he disappeared in a cloud of smoke, the final trick of the evening.

You missed the way Kun stole a glance at you after the old man's statement, but felt the gentle swipe of his thumb over the back of your hand as he led you out the exit of the shop, the doors closing by themselves behind you.

As if right on cue you received a text from your friends. 

“At least send us a photo of what he looks like and where you're going for safety reasons.”

You stared at the message for a moment unsure of how to respond. He hadn't asked you to go anywhere with him, so asking him for a photo might be a little presumptuous. 

"There's a Yakiniku place nearby, I forgot the name but you can tell her when we get there."  

You looked up from your phone with wide eyes.

"Wow! Do you know what privacy is?"

"Of course!" He said as he bit his bottom lip.

"Did you just undress me with your eyes?!"

"Well, you did it to me earlier so I figured I'd return the favor."

"I did not!"

"If you say so."

You watched him as he moved about. "What on earth are you doing?"

Trying to find the best lighting for the photo you need to send to them so we can finish our date."

"Date?" 

"It didn't start out as one but I'd say it's one now." He said as he put his arm around your waist pulling you close, and taking out his phone.

"Let's take one together" 

His scent was intoxicating, warm, inviting and you couldn't stop wondering if he'd taste as good as he smelled. You were obviously swimming in your thoughts because you hadn't even realized he'd already taken the picture.

"What were you thinking about so intensely?" He said as he showed you the photo of the two of you. It was pretty obvious your mind was elsewhere.

"Eww, delete that! Let's take another." 

He just laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist again, but this time you were determined to stay focused on taking a good photo and not on how delicious he smelled.

"Perfect!" He said as he examined the screen. "I'll send it to you. What's your number?" 

You scoffed at the realization of what had just happened. He had really just played that so smooth, you were almost annoyed at how easily you fell for it, especially when you noticed the smirk on his face as he waited expectantly. You took his phone and typed your number, rolling your eyes as you handed it back to him. 

"Thank you" he said as he grabbed your hand and began to lead you in the direction of the restaurant. Once you arrived you sent the name of the place along with the photo to your friends.

 The hostess escorted you to a booth in the corner of the restaurant at Kun's request. Just as you took your seat, your phone began to vibrate almost nonstop, and you were pretty sure you knew why. You excused yourself to the restroom where you quickly opened the messages from your friends.

🎭 : Biiiiiiiiiitch 

🍒: 😩 it's the guy from earlier

👰: I  opened this photo and almost got a divorce before I even got married 😅 

🎭: Omg it is him!

🥱: lmao you guys sent it to Tiffany?!

🎭: Fuck yes we did! Who would believe us if we said you met some sexy ass guy at some little magic show without receipts?

🍒: MOUNT HIM! He ignored so many advances from women at the pool today.

🎭: Seriously, he must have been waiting for the one.

👰: Not you finding a plus one for my wedding during my bachelorette trip!

🥱: we're done here. Bye! I can't stand y'all.

🍒: BYE! See you in the morning 😏

Little did you know Kun had also sent the photo to his friends and at the same time you were dealing with your friends, he was having a similar conversation with his.

Ten: Give her to me!

YangYang: I can't believe you actually found her!

Xiaojun: If he'd have approached her when he first saw her in the café that day, LIKE I SAID, he could have spent more than just tonight with her. You're just lucky she missed her flight.

YangYang: And of all places, a lame magic show. It must be fate.

Ten: I'm ok with sharing.

Kun: She was literally in the middle of a group of her friends giving the bride gifts, and magic shows aren't  lame!

Xiaojun: You act like it was the actual wedding. You literally spent almost everyday hoping to see her since.

Kun: I did not!

Ten: You did go to the pool hoping she'd be there when you saw her friends headed that way earlier.

Xiaojun: SIMP

"What's got your eyebrows all furrowed?" You giggled as you sat down, startling Kun a bit.

"Oh nothing! Just my friends being annoying as usual."

You hadn't realized until he said that, that you hadn't actually known why he was in Vegas and who he was there with. So, you decided to be as nosey as he had been. Kun was an open book, he told you about this being their annual friends trip and a little bit about each of them. You learned of each other's careers and hobbies, he was more than happy to show you a few magic tricks before your food came. He even taught you a card trick that you had wanted so badly to learn as a kid. 

Dinner now finished, you found yourself with a decision to make as the two of you made your way back to the hotel. Kun tipped the driver and got out first, extending his hand to help you out next. Hand in hand you entered the hotel lobby walking across the casino floor to make your way to the guest elevators. Just before reaching the guest checkpoint that leads to the hotel elevators, Kun stopped and turned to you.

"I know it's late, but do you want to go for a walk through the rooftop garden? I'm not ready to say goodbye just yet." 

That's when you made up your mind. You had been the responsible one this whole trip, made sure Tiffany’s itinerary was followed, kept watch over your friends when they got a little too drunk, made sure they stayed hydrated, not an easy task with a bunch of thirst buckets. Now you were going to do something a little out of the ordinary for you.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, fingers still intertwined with yours, and made your way through the guest checkpoint, scanning your key card to gain access. You didn't look in his direction as you waited for the elevator afraid you might not be so bold if you looked at him. The minute the elevator doors opened you pulled him inside, hit the number 7 and then the “close door” button. You had avoided looking at him since leading him to the elevators, but now inside one completely covered in mirrors you had no choice, and when you finally looked over to his reflection he was looking back at you. The elevator bell dinged signaling you had reached your floor, so you took a deep breath and finally turned to face him.

"You can say goodbye now or you can tell me in the morning."

It was dizzying the way he lifted you into a kiss so suddenly, as if he had been waiting for permission all night and once he got it, he let go of any restraint he had. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he carried you out of the elevator. You pulled away from the kiss to tell him your room number clumsily making your way down the hall as he carried you. You left a trail of kisses up his neck running your tongue across his Adam's apple indulging in your curiosity about the way he’d taste. Kun groaned at the feeling of your mouth on his skin, knees nearly giving out when you nipped at the spot beneath his ear. Finally reaching your room he pressed your back against the door and stole your breath away with kisses. Blindly you searched for your room key as he returned your love bites, hardening dick grinding against you through the fabric of your clothes. 

"We'll never make it inside if you keep doing that, I can't focus."

He let out a soft laugh and put you down. You took a deep breath to calm yourself enough to find your key, the minute the door was open you were all over each other again. There was no time for foreplay, no time for words, only needy kisses and soft moans as you walked him backwards towards the bed. When the back of his legs hit the edge you undid his pants and pushed them down just enough to let gravity handle the rest. You pulled away from the kiss to give him space to remove his shirt and once he had done so you took the opportunity to push him back onto the bed, watching as his body fell into the plush blankets and his bold red locks danced away from his forehead. Undoubtedly  this mental image would stay with you forever. 

You peeled your shirt off and shimmied out of your pants, revealing red lace panties and a matching bra almost the exact same red as his hair. Kun let out a groan at the sight of you practically naked and climbing onto the bed to straddle him. You weren't on top for long before he rolled you over so you were under him. He gently ran his thumb over your lips and when you parted them to take his thumb into your mouth he let out a soft sigh as he watched you. You looked up to him with pleading eyes as you pushed at the waistband of his underwear. Taking the hint he pulled his thumb from between your lips and quickly discarded his underwear, ridding you of yours soon after. Now completely naked Kun hovered over you kissing along your shoulder as he unclasped your bra and tossed it to the side.

You wrapped your legs around his back and pulled him closer to you, drawing out a chuckle from him. He lifted his face to look into your eyes. "So impatient" he said as he moved his hand between the two of you dropping his head to the crook of your neck with a sigh when he discovered how wet you were.  He lifted from you slightly to line himself up with your entrance, letting his head fall back to the crook of your neck as he pushed into you.

You gasped as he bottomed out, the electric feeling that had been in the air now surging through you from head to toe. Slowly he began to move, thrusting in and out of you. Moans of pleasure flowed freely from your mouth sending messages that only he could understand, messages urging him to move faster, harder, deeper, to make you his, to keep you by his side forever. And so he did, he thrusted faster, harder, deeper. Enjoying the way your breast bounced with each thrust, the way you moaned his name was music to his ears, the way your fingers gripped him as your nails dug into the flesh of his back. Xiaojun was right, this could have been the two of you all week but he missed his chance, now he was determined to make up for it. He'd  give you all he had even if it was just for one night but he hoped for so much more.  

He kissed you with a tenderness that set your heart ablaze, a stark contrast to his relentless thrusts that were threatening to break you at any moment. He wrapped one arm under your thigh, giving him a better angle to thrust even deeper into you. Your mouth hung open as you threw your head back, gasping out praises, and he watched with hungry eyes as your chest rose and fell with each panting breath.

"I- I'm  gonna cum" you barely managed to form the words between breaths.

" You're so wet I thought you came already." 

He smiled against your neck as you whimpered, partly from embarrassment but mostly because you really were about to cum. 

A few more deep thrusts and your walls began to flutter around his dick, causing him to moan your name in response, filling the room with praises for you as your pussy sucked him in even more, soaking his dick and dripping onto the sheets as you chanted his name.  

Kun quickly followed, pulling out and painting your stomach with his cum. Kun took a moment to catch his breath before going to retrieve a washcloth to clean up his mess.

"Where are you going?" You pouted.

"To wash this out, I'd feel bad knowing some poor housekeeper had to pick up a towel covered in my cum."

You laughed as you closed your eyes, he had a point. You didn't even want to think about all the cum covered everything they had to deal with on a daily basis. You soon felt the bed dip as Kun snuggled up to you, adjusting your position so that your face was tucked into his chest. There was so much he wanted to say, but you were already half asleep. He was sure you had felt the connection, felt the electrical charge in the air that only seemed to get more intense the closer you got to each other, but a small part of him worried that maybe he was being a hopeless romantic, that all the things that happened leading up to your meeting was just a coincidence, that this was going to end up being one of those "the one that got away" stories. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realized you were awake until he felt your lips against his.

 "What's wrong? You said barely above a whisper as you studied his features in the soft light provided by the reading lamp on the nightstand.  He looked at you with soft eyes and threw your leg over his hip, pulling you even closer.

 "Want to know a secret? I've been hoping to run into you for a few days now."

"What?"

"Our first day here, I saw you with your friends in the café. I wanted to approach you then." 

You thought back to that day, you remembered that day felt strange, like something was going to happen although it never did. Now having felt that same feeling today, and learning he was in the café that day, you were sure it was him that you were feeling. 

"Why didn't  you?"

"I didn't want to be rude."

You nodded in understanding. "So you've been hoping to run into me?"

"Yea, I even went to the pool today when I saw your friends headed that way, thinking you'd probably be there too." He gave a small but nervous laugh.

Your heart skipped a beat at how cute and honest he was being. You got out of the bed to get your phone and he worried for a moment that he had said too much until you climbed back into bed and snuggled in close to him again. 

"Haven't been looking for you, but since I saw you at the pool I was drawn to you."  You laughed at the confusion on his face until you showed him the picture of your friends, and pointed to him in the background.  

"I even asked if you were friends with the guys they were with." 

You watched as Kun's face lit up with amusement just before he leaned in to kiss you, a smile still playing on his lips.  YangYang had to be right, this had to be fate.

Morning goodbyes came too soon for either of your liking, but sweet kisses and promises to call, text & visit made them seem slightly less bitter. The flight home was filled with thoughts of the man who had possibly stolen your heart with dimples and cheesy magic tricks. You were sure that when you slept that night he'd be in your dreams too. Finally arriving back at your home after a short car ride from the airport with your friends, they made sure to remind you that once you had all settled in you'd have to tell them everything about Kun. 

As you made your way into your front door, you remembered you hadn't taken your phone off airplane mode. The moment you did it your phone buzzed with 3 new messages, all from Kun. You smiled to yourself as you opened the 1st message. A simple "have a safe flight" on your screen. The next message was a photo of him out at breakfast, a mountain of French toast in front of him, and a big smile adorning his face. The final message sent a wave of excitement through your body.

" I hope this doesn't seem too forward, but we leave Vegas tomorrow and if you don't mind I'd like to extend my vacation by a few days and spend it with you."

Before you had a chance to respond you received another message. 

"Thank you for visiting Voila Magic! We hope you enjoyed your evening.  If you did, please take a moment to leave a review."

You took this as a sign from the universe to accept Kun's offer. You quickly pulled up his message again to respond.

"I'd love that"

You two spent the next few days together and by the second day you started to believe maybe magic was real.

[quite-right-too]

Get To Know Me

I'm going to go ahead and tag @demdifferentstories-29 @thirdeyeblue and @deardiary17

What is your name? My name is Cody.

For how long have you had this account? I just hit 8 years yesterday!

Favourite food? I can't say I necessarily have a favorite but I do really love sushi.

Favourite drink? I am a simp for those VitaminWater drinks.

Do you have any siblings? I have three brothers and a sister (and I'm the youngest).

Do you have pets? I do! I currently have 4 dogs (Dante, Brekker, Zagreus, and Kavik) and 5 cats (Middie, Cricket, Basil, Sage, and McRib).

How old are you? 20, turning 21 in December.

How many languages do you know? I know English and have taken both Spanish and Japanese (but I'm awful at both).

What's your all time favourite movie/tv show? Doctor Who, obviously. But otherwise, it's Grey's Anatomy.

What are you enjoying to do in your free time? I play music mostly during my free time. Otherwise, I'm usually writing or working my dogs.

Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Extrovert all the way.

Your favourite music genres? Midwest emo, folk punk, and pop-punk.

Your dream place to visit? I have a lot of places I want to visit, but I think London is one of them.

Something you wish you were better at? I wish I was a bit more advanced in terms of my vocal ability, but it just takes practice.

How long do you take to respond to texts? I try to respond immediately, unless I'm asleep. Then you get a response as soon as I wake up.

Do you have any tattoos? If not, would like to? I have one for now. It's a quote that says "victory stands on the back of sacrifice", surrounded by a laurel wreath. I have some more in the works but tattoos are expensive.

What's your sexuality? I'm bisexual.

Do you like reading? If yes what's your favourite book? I don't have a favorite book but I'm working on reading Uprooted Americans, a book about Japanese Americans and the war relocation to internment camps during World War II. This is partly because my father was part of the group that was brought to Manzanar in California.

Have you ever been in love? I am currently in love with my wonderful wife.

What's your relationship status? Married!

Have you ever been heartbroken? Yes, many times. Not necessarily romantically but in many different contexts.

Best memory you could think of? So I have a brain injury, resulting in a significant amount of short-term and long-term memory loss. There are a lot, especially regarding my wife. If we choose my earliest memory, it would be when I was in preschool. It was during pickup time and I was waiting for my mom to come get me since it was getting late. My mom didn't walk in, but my older brother did. I didn't see him often since he lived with his dad so I ran up and hugged him since I was just so excited for him to be there.

Worst memory you can think of? Ah, there are also a lot here. Probably my parents' funerals. Sad, I know, but don't feel too bad about it. They were a while ago and I've worked through the trauma.

Do you have any fears? Without getting into deep psychological fears, I really don't like spiders. Too many legs.

Are you a morning or a night person? I'm a whenever-I'm-awake person.

How many pictures you have on your phone? Currently 1,480.

Who was your favourite childhood crush? My wife definitely.

Are you a romantic? Not necessarily. I like the romantic aspect in theory, but I have a hard time applying it.

What’s your dream date? Probably going somewhere adventurous. Theme parks are one big idea.

What are your hobbies? Like I said, I'm a musician. I also write, train dogs, and used to fly small planes for a bit.

[randomshyperson]

hi! hope you're alright! love your writing!! ~

can you do a fluffy sexy one where R and wanda are really close friends (not those secret crushs kind of friend - neither has realized that they are too close to be just friends) until one-day the avengers find out about fanfics and shipps and loose their mind over it cause they are all grown up and didn't know this was a thing, they are all reunited at the living room looking online what are the shipps and, let's say Tony is the one looking while they are all gathered listening, he says like "oh apparently everybody thinks Wanda and R are a couple" and someone -thor, bucky or Sam of course- gets surprise like "they are not dating???" (Wanda is even sitting on R lap and playing with her hair!!) the girls deny and the turns out all team thought they were together, later they are reading some fic about them cause they're curious and its a smut, R gets shy and wanda gets a little turn on about it and says "you know if I was to date anyone here it would be you" so R realizes the same and they eventually get together

I think it has way too much details, sorry

Hello anon! Hope you’re well. This took me long enough i know, but i hope you like it. It’s really short, but it’s all you asked. 

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The fandom knows best

Summary: Prompt based “Reader and Wanda are best friends who are one of the popular ships from the Avengers, but they have no clue. It takes one fan fiction for things to work out.”

Warnings: Fluff, humor, brief hint of smut (it’s nothing really), (brief) kissing.

Words:  1.400 k (Drabble i think)  // Read on AO3

Marks:   @mionemymind @abimess

Wanda Maximoff is your favorite person in the world.

You are colleagues on the Avengers team, and clicked together the very moment you first saw each other.

Everyone on the team knows that you are inseparable and if someone is looking for you and can't find you anywhere, it's because you are sleeping in Wanda's room.

You never really thought about what this implied, so during the Halloween party that Tony planned, you were very surprised when this subject came up.

The avengers were gathered around the table, a few hours had passed since the party had ended, and Tony was beginning to feel bored. So he grabbed the tablet on the table and announced it to everyone:

- I made a very interesting discovery this weekend! - he says with a mischievous smile. - Tell me Avengers, have you had a look at the work of our dear fans?

The team let out a chorus of apprehension. Tony laughed.

- God I'm surrounded by old people. - He comments as he activates the hologram playback function on the tablet on the table. - I found some interesting content about the Avengers. Say, folks, have you ever heard of fanfiction?

The group let out a chorus of excitement, and Tony giggled.

- I should have known you would eventually make us watch porn. - Natasha laughed, making everyone laugh. And then Tony was running through some files, mostly innocent artwork, of the team on adventures or facing supervillains, and you all looked excited. Then Tony let out a little laugh.

- Whoa, I found something interesting. - he says with a mischievous smile. - It has the hashtag "NSFW”.

- What does this mean? - Steve asked curiously.

- You're going to love it, Cap. - Tony retorted, and then there is a not-so-innocent artwork of Steve in the hologram. The shield being the only item he is wearing.

The team lets out a mixed exclamation of surprise and laughter, and Steve turns bright red.

For the next few minutes you laugh and are embarrassed by various more adult art that people have done, and then Tony lets out a wry chuckle.

- Look, this is interesting. - He starts.  - The best couples from the Avengers.

- This is going to be good. - Nat mocked, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her beer. 

- I am surprised that Potts and I don't come first, it is disappointing to know that people don't recognize a love as amazing as ours. - Declares Tony and everyone laughs lightly. He moves his fingers again, reading something on the screen. - Check it out, Romanoff. Your affair with Banner is in fourth place.

Nat laughs, and Bruce gets a little embarrassed, but he doesn't say anything. Tony continues.

- That is funny. - Tony says with a chuckle. - Apparently all the fans think that Wanda and Y/N are a couple. They are the most popular.

You let out a short laugh, surprised at the insinuation. Wanda follows you, settling better on your lap as she laughs.

- Wait, Tony, what do you mean they think? - Bucky asked with a confused expression. - Aren't you two dating?

You and Wanda frown confusedly in his direction, and you notice that Thor has the same confused expression as Bucky. And then you look around and everyone, except Tony, has the same look on their faces.

- Who else thought we were dating? - Wanda asks and the whole team choruses in agreement. Tony says "I thought you were playing along".

You and Wanda laugh awkwardly.

- Where did you get that from? - you ask in surprise. Then the team shares a wry laugh and you frown.

- Really Y/N? - Bucky replies. - Wanda is literally on your lap! And you've been playing with her hair all night!

You and Wanda shake your heads in denial, laughing lightly.

When you return to your room however, you are thinking about it.

- Hey, stop overthinking it. - Wanda jokes as you walk together down the hall toward your room, and you laugh weakly.

- Stop reading my mind. - You retort without any hint of aggressiveness. You loved to provoke Wanda, and you had no problem if she used her powers on you.

When you arrived at your room, Wanda threw herself on your bed, and you went to find something comfortable to wear.

- Lie down here, I got curious. - She says as you are putting on your pajama pants. When you are finished, you lie down next to her on the bed, stomach down on the mattress, mimicking her position. Wanda is on her cell phone, and holds it out a little to the side so that you can see it. She starts typing something next, and you laugh lightly.

- Why are you researching this? - you ask as you read "fanfic Wanda Maximoff and Y/N".

She shrugs, smiling.

- I want to know what people think we do. 

- Wanda. 

- Shh, look at that. - She says, holding her cell phone up to her face. She laughs lightly, and then pulls it away showing you a text. 

- "Wanda and Y/N have always been in love with each other." - You start reading and Wanda lets out a giggle. - Wow, that is a surprise.

- "In the Avengers tower, they have always gotten along much better than any other member of the team." - Wanda continues reading and you make a noise of agreement with your mouth. 

- Technically, I get along with everyone. - You comment and Wanda laughs, pushing her shoulders against you lightly.

- "However, the nature of their relationship changed during a particularly physical training session." - Wanda continues reading and you raise an eyebrow. - That sounds promising. - You laugh half-heartedly, but Wanda continues reading. - "The redhead had been assigned to train with her friend, and during that training she realized the undeniable attraction she felt for the other girl”.

- Oh my god. - You mumbled in embarrassment, trying to snatch the cell phone from Wanda's hands, but she just laughed, moving away. When you insisted, she stood up, laughing lightly as she continued reading.

- "When Y/N made a move that knocked Wanda to the ground, the witch couldn't help but kiss her passionately."- She read aloud and you let out a grumble, getting up. - "Their tongues fought together as Wanda let her hands go up the inside of her shirt to her breasts, making Y/N moan"

Wanda's reading died in a laugh as you tickled her to reach for the cell phone. She threw her body at you next, but you didn't return the device, laughing lightly.

- Stop it, this is embarrassing. - You say with flushed cheeks, dodging the girl's hands as you get back into bed. Wanda grumbles, but follows you.

You sit side by side, and you only hand the phone back to her when you close the page.

- You know what? - She says after a moment, her cheeks slightly pink. You look at her curiously. - If I were going to date anyone here, it would be you.

You blink in surprise, feeling your heart race at the phrase, and look away from Wanda quickly. 

It takes a moment, but you finally speak.

- Yeah, I... I would date you too. - You confess, looking forward. To try to relieve the tension, you quickly add. - Maybe Bucky or Nat too, but my first choice would be you.

Wanda laughs, turning to you and ruffling your hair. Your natural instinct is to grab her by the wrists, and throw her on the bed. You laugh for a few seconds, but something has changed. The closeness of your faces makes your breath catch.

- Wanda... I...

- Are you trying to figure out the ending to that fic? - She teases breathlessly, and you laugh, letting go of her wrists. But Wanda uses her freedom to pull your face against her, kissing you softly, and making you sigh in surprise.

- Wow. - You say as you walk away, feeling your lips tingling.

- I know. - she whispers. - Why did it take us so long to do this?

You smiled, kissing her again, properly this time.

When you two parted again, completely out of breath, and with your clothes crumpled, you threw yourself next to Wanda on the bed, laughing lightly.

- I can't believe that the fans knew that you were in love with me before I did! - Wanda then announced.

- And you call yourself a telepath.

You scoffed next, and she laughed as she slapped you on the shoulder. It didn't take long before you were laughing together.

[dreamerstreamer]

Never Meant To Be Yours

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Wilbur Soot’s heart may belong to you, but yours? Well...

Warnings: some cursing (hi, Tommy) + one scene with slight violence 

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: i realized that i hadn’t written a story that was strictly just angst, so... ta-da! this story takes place during the betrayal of l’manberg. inspired by both the events of the smp and also heathers: the musical. remember folks: pog through the pain <3

The campfire crackled and popped as Wilbur tossed another stick into the roaring flames, the embers leaping up and soaring into the starry night sky. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as Tommy opened his mouth again.

“I’m fucking telling you, Wilbur. Just let me sharpen some sticks and I can win this war for L’Ma—”

Wilbur sighed, reaching over to rip the two branches from Tommy’s hands. “Tommy, if you pick up another set of sticks one more time, I will throw your discs into the fire.”

Tommy gasped, absolutely appalled that he would even suggest it. “Big man, you wouldn’t fucking dare—”

“No,” Tubbo said, smiling as he threw some more kindle into the fire, “I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Oh, he definitely would,” Fundy confirmed, his tail swishing this way and that as he looked on in amusement.

Tommy frowned, snatching another stick from the firewood pile and turning to glare at Wilbur from where he sat on his log. “Fucking fight me for them, you beanie bitch.”

Wilbur stared back, unimpressed and his patience wearing thin. “Tommy,” he said, “I’m not doing this, again.”

“Oh? Are you scared of my sharpness 1000 sti—”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, Wilbur grabbed Tommy by his arms and hoisted him into the air, his feet dangling dangerously close to the campfire. Fundy hooted as Tommy let out a piercing scream, Tubbo watching with wide eyes and a grin on his face as the flames licked at the soles of his shoes. “I swear to fucking god, Tommy,” Wilbur nearly shouted, “I am going to drop you into the fi—”

“You lot seem like you’re having fun.”

Wilbur froze, Tommy practically melting in his arms in relief. “Thank the lord, I’m saved,” he muttered.

You walked over to the group with a small wave and a bashful grin. In an instant, Wilbur had released Tommy, dropping him back onto the log as he walked over to you. The irritation seeped out of his bones as he took in the sight of your face, your eyes glowing in the golden light of the campfire.

“You’re finally here,” he said, leaning over to press a quick peck to your cheek before sitting once more.

You giggled, settling into the space next to him. “Hi.”

Beside you, Tommy made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ, you guys are actually fucking gross. I would never do some shit like that.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “But Tommy,” you pointed out, “I thought you loved women. Don’t you want to date one, one day?”

“I do love women!” Tommy confirmed. “And I respect them! But you know me, [Y/N].” He patted his chest, smirking with pride. “I’m married to the grind.”

You tilted your head at him, bemused. “Are you, now?”

He nodded with full confidence. “Of course I am!”

“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding?”

Tommy shot you a condescending look. “The grind and I have been married far longer than you and Wilbur have even been together—hell, I’d say we’re a better fucking couple than you two!”

You feigned a gasp and turned to your lover with a dramatic pout. “Hey, Will? Do you hear that? Tommy says his marriage to the grind is better than our relationship.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, blinking, then shrugged. “Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Confusion flashed across Tommy’s face. “How?”

Wilbur stood up and turned to look at you, a serious expression crossing his face. “I suppose we’ll just have to get married.”

You felt your jaw drop, a wave of shock running through you as Tommy sputtered, “Pfft—what the fuck?”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Will,” you said, “getting married in the middle of a war doesn’t exactly sound like the best idea you’ve had.”

“But Wilbur never has good ide—”

“Well,” Wilbur said, cutting Tommy off, “how else are we going to beat Tommy and the grind?”

You cocked a brow at him. “Are you implying that are relationship isn’t already stronger than Tommy’s with the grind? That we have to prove it?”

Now it was Wilbur’s turn to sputter. “No, uh, I’m just, um—”

“Will,” you said again, “you realize you have a son that we both care for, right?”

Wilbur paused. “Oh. Right.”

You could see Fundy groan from the other side of the campfire, hanging his head in his hands. “Jeez, thanks, dad.”

Wilbur flashed his son a bright grin. “You’re welcome, son.” He whirled, triumphantly pointing at Tommy’s face. “See? Do you and the grind have a physical representation of your love in the form of another living being?”

Tommy’s face contorted in disgust. “Wilbur, what the fuck, no. I’m a fucking minor.”

The smile dropped from Wilbur’s face like a dead fly. “Oh. Right.”

Tubbo let out a whistle, raising his fist in the air. “Aaand, scene! That’s a point for Tommy!” He shook his head apologetically at the general. “Sorry, Wilbur, but you lose.”

Wilbur looked offended. “How did I lose? [Y/N] and I have a Fundy!”

Tubbo’s expression shifted to something more serious. “Didn’t you know that I’m a lawyer, Wilbur? You don’t mess with the law.”

Fundy let out another groan as Tommy howled in delight. “Oh, no.”

“Big Law is back!”

It didn’t take long for the bickering to start up again, and you found yourself zoning out, simply smiling and nodding every once in a while. A lone crow squawked in the trees above you, and you cast your gaze up at the night sky, watching as the campfire sparks danced and faded into the shadows above. Something stirred deep within your chest. 

It really was a lovely night, and you were surrounded by some lovely people, even if they were rather chaotic. With the campfire keeping you warm and their peals of laughter tugging at your lips, you almost felt sad.

Only a few more days remained of this idyllic life. Just a few days more until—

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Wilbur’s worried voice drew you out of your thoughts and you turned to face him, plastering a small smile to your face. “Yep! Just thinking.”

He leaned down to peer closer at you, his gaze scanning your face. “What about?”

You averted your eyes from his, your cheeks dancing with warmth. “About you.”

He grinned and pulled you into his chest, ignoring the way Tommy pretended to choke at the sight. You giggled, your hands wrapped around Wilbur’s arm in return as he held you close.

High above you, the stars winked down at you from the pitch black sky, waiting and watching to see what came next.

Wilbur sighed, staring down at the map on his desk.

Just how was he going to stage an attack on a nation as large as the Dream SMP? Every opening would have been accounted for, and Dream was not a foe to be taken lightly. Even if all of them came in, bows blazing and swords drawn, Dream was still very much capable of taking them on, even by himself. That, he knew, and that was what weighed him down.

He slumped over, dragging a hand over his face. What in the world was he going to do?

A knock sounded at his door, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Knock knock,” you greeted, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “You doing alright in there?”

Wilbur offered you a tired smile. “Not really, if I’m being honest.”

You stepped inside, slipping into the seat next to his. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

He sighed. “It—It’s just that the odds are so incredibly stacked against us.” His eyes were sad as he stared blankly down at the parchment. “It makes me wonder, is freedom even attainable, or is it just another one of my silly pipe dreams?”

You frowned, reaching over to stroke his face with the back of your hand. “Freedom is more than just a dream, Will. You know that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “Fundy is living proof of that. Your son is living proof of that. He was born in these walls, remember?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “He was born free.”

You pulled away from him, sending him a sugary grin. “We can become free, Will. I know you can do it. You’re not alone. You have me. You have us.”

His smiled crookedly at you. “Even Tommy?”

The look in your eyes was kind as you giggled. “Yes, even Tommy. I’m sure of it. Why else would you have made him your right hand man?”

He chuckled, turning his attention away from the map and onto you. “You’re right. You always know how to make me feel better, [Y/N].”

You offered him a small smile. “I try my best.”

The two of you set into a comfortable silence for a moment or two with you watching Wilbur strategically move pieces across the map while he jotted down notes on a slip of paper. It was only after a few minutes had passed when you spoke up once more.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over his ink well to slip your hand in his, “I want to show you something that’ll make you feel even better.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hand freezing on its quill. “Oh?”

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. “I’ve been working on it for a little while, and I really think it’ll help us win that freedom of ours.”

He smiled at you, his gaze fond as he stood, setting his quill on the table. “Let me gather the men and I’ll be right there.”

It only took him a few minutes for him to rally everyone together, although he did have to silence Tommy when he let loose a string of curses yelling about his dedication to the grind. In practically no time, the whole battalion stood in front of you, eager to see what you had in store.

“Alright,” Wilbur said, bowing towards you, “lead the way.”

You grinned, jokingly curtsying back before turning on you heel, a skip lining your step as you strode toward a small tree sitting near the edge of the walls. “If you come down here,” you began, sliding down the side of the hill to point behind the tree, “you’ll see that there’s actually a small entranceway here.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened in surprise. There really was a hole in the hill dug out just here. He wondered just when you made it. “How the fuck did you keep this hidden from us?” Tommy muttered, squinting as you led them inside. “You didn’t even try to hide the fucking door.”

You shrugged, still strolling comfortably. “It was pretty out of the way and it faces the wall itself, so you weren’t likely to spot it, anyways. I didn’t really think it was necessary.”

The walls were dark and dank, lit up only be the occasional torch, but even then it was still dim. “This is a long tunnel,” Tubbo murmured after they had been walking for a minute or two, his head swiveling this way and that as he took in his surroundings.

You laughed. “Well, this place was pretty well-hidden, if I do say so myself.” Suddenly, you stopped, turning to look at the rest of the group. “Well, lads, here it is.”

You stepped in and to the side, and Wilbur gasped.

Lying just within the hill was a grand room. Every surface was made of smooth, polished, black bricks, and pale blue lanterns hung from each corner of the room, emitting a faint light that painted the room in an enchanting glow. Chests lined the walls, and in the center of the room sat a single button atop a panel.

Wilbur was floored—he had no idea when you had built all this.

“What is this place?” Fundy asked, his dark eyes wide with awe.

You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin as you strode to the middle of the room. “Well, I guess you could call it a secret base, but I’ve been calling it the final control room.” Something glinted in your eyes. “I spent a lot of time gathering resources and forging weaponry that we can use to fight.” You pointed at each labelled box with delight. “Look—you each have your own chest!”

Wilbur felt his heart swell with pride. Just when he didn’t think you could be any more perfect, you just had to shatter his expectations.

Everyone split apart, each rushing toward their respective chest with anticipation thrumming in their fingertips. Wilbur grinned as he reached his, unlatching the clasp on the front and flipping the lid open to reveal... nothing.

There wasn’t anything in the chest.

Uneasiness seeped into his stomach.

“[Y/N],” he said slowly, turning to look at you, “these chests are empty.”

You still stood in the center of the room, sending him that same sweet smile you always did.

“I know,” you said, lifting your hand to hover over the singular button lying on the control panel.

Something like terror struck his heart.

“[Y/N]?” he whispered.

It was only then that he noticed how cold your eyes were.

“It was never meant to be.”

What came next happened so quickly that Wilbur almost didn’t process it. He watched as your hand slammed down on the button, and a hole in the wall opened up to reveal the Dream SMP, their swords unsheathed and armour polished to shining. Screams rang out all around him, echoing in the tiny chamber of the so-called final control room. He could only watch in horror as his men were slaughtered at his side until a sword pierced his chest as well.

With a pained gasp, he looked up to you as he fell back, disbelief and the pure, utter pain of betrayal sinking into his veins while he coughed for air.

You still wore that saccharine smile of yours, the one he had fallen for long, long ago. Something menacing shone in your eyes.

He wondered how you could still be smiling at a time like this as his world went dark.

Wilbur awoke with a gasp, lurching forward with wide eyes. Panting, his hand flew to his chest, grasping at where he was just stabbed—or had been stabbed. His shoulders sank in relief as his fingertips met unmarred skin and the softness of his shirt, a sigh escaping his lips.

Coming back after death never really got any easier after the first time. He could only wonder what Tommy and Tubbo were going through—they were so young.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Wilbur’s head shot to the side, his eyes briefly noting the fact that he was indeed lying on the bed in his room. On the opposite side of the room, you sat on a wooden chair, a book clutched between your fingertips. Something warm flitted through his chest as his eyes met yours, and he almost felt glad to see you.

Almost.

“What are you doing here?” he spat, a cruelty he had never felt for you before brewing within his gut. “Why are you even here?”

You blinked innocently at him, shutting the book in your hands and setting it on the table next to you. It was the declaration of independence, he noted with disgust. He felt sick knowing that you held it in yours hands, that you even signed it at all.

“I’m keeping you company,” you said casually, as if nothing had happened at all, as if you hadn’t just gotten him killed. “I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Rage ripped through him, roaring through him like a wildfire. With shoulders shaking with agony, he tore the sheets from off his legs. “‘Didn’t want me to be lonely’?” he parroted mockingly as he stood to his full height. His glare was as cold as ice. “Is this some sick joke to you?”

You tilted your head at him, your mouth remaining a straight line—hard and firm. “Not particularly, no.”

That was when it hit him—when everything came crashing into him all at once.

You had sold them out.

You had abandoned them.

Did you mean anything you ever said to him? Did you ever really love him? Were your kisses ever real? Did his love really mean nothing to you? 

“[Y/N],” he breathed, horror wracking his every word, “what have you done?”

You stared at him, your expression blank and unreadable—an impenetrable wall standing between him and your psyche. He hated it. He hated how unreadable you were in this moment, and his anger older burned brighter.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice growing louder and louder. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, pushing it away from his soot-stained face. “We were going to get married. We—we were going to start a new life together. With Tommy, and Tubbo. Niki. Fundy, my son.” His eyes flashed. “Our son. Whatever happened to that?”

He sank to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired. The fire burned out, and an indescribable sense of sadness flowed in instead, flooding every inch of his being. He felt his eyes begin to water as you simply stared down at him, unfeeling and harsh. His voice cracked.

“[Y/N], why?”

There was no denying what you had done. He had seen it with his own two eyes, had watched a wicked glint creep into your gaze as you pressed the button and vanished.

You were a traitor, through and through, yet he still could not fathom why.

Suddenly, you took a stood, taking a slow and deliberate step toward him. Wilbur’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw you draw closer and closer, his heart pounding in his ears. Even after all that you’d done, after you’d betrayed him, his heart still yearned for you—still ached for you.

Just a step before you reached him, you stopped, crouching down to be level with him. For a moment, you simply stared at him with those eyes—those eyes he loved so, so much. Then, you opened your mouth.

“Wilbur,” you murmured, soft enough only for him to hear. “Oh, my darling, lovely Wilbur.”

Your voice was sickly sweet, dripping like honey that stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, the tiniest flicker of hope igniting in his heart. Perhaps this was all just some big misunderstanding, some prank that you were pulling on him—you always did love your mischief.

You smiled at him, the glimmer in your eyes wicked and unkind as you stood up. The sun hung just behind you in the sky, framing your face in a heavenly glow.

In another life, you would have looked like an angel.

“I was never meant to be yours.”

His heart shattered.

The tears were now freely streaming down his cheeks, running down like tiny rivers. He half-hoped that he would drown in them, that he would never have to see your beautifully wretched face again for as long as he lived.

Bending over, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, pulling away just a second later after gently patting his head. The spot where your lips met his skin burned, and he hated himself for wishing you would stay.

You strode over to the door, swinging it open with one last glance over your shoulder and an empty half-smile. “Goodbye, Will.”

The door closed. Wilbur stared at the solid oak wood, feeling an abyss open up inside him.

Gone—you were gone.

And he was left alone.

So much for getting married.

“Was it worth it?”

You stopped swinging your legs from the gold throne you sat upon and cast a glance up at Dream, his green eyes boring into you from where he was perched on the chandelier. How he got up there, you still had no idea.

“Was what worth it?” you asked, examining a diamond between your fingers.

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the castle surrounding the two of you. “This life. Your new title. You gave up so much for them, after all.” He began counting off on his fingers, his lips quirking. “You faked a relationship with Wilbur, pretended to love his son, befriended that brat, Tommy, and then blew it all to smithereens for the crown on your head.”

His gaze flickered back to yours. “Well?” he said again. “Was it worth it?”

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression pensive.

You thought of soft, brown curls tickling against your face as you awoke on the couch. You thought of fluttering laughter and bashful giggles. You thought of a pearly white grin flashing at you from the other side of the campfire. You thought of an old acoustic guitar that was almost always just a little out of tune. You thought of gentle kisses pressed to hands, cheeks, necks, and mouths. 

You thought of Wilbur Soot.

And you smiled and felt nothing.

“Yes.”

[x-reader-theater]

Inspired by the @katytheinspiredworkaholic Noir AU mood board, Spencer dating Hotches or Alvezes younger brother in around 20's-40's era when it was still illegal. Hotch or Alvez (who ever you choose) would be some sort of important name in the city so obviously the reader would be too, being from a wealthy family. So it is especially hard for the reader and Spencer to sneak around kissing and stuff when everyone has their eyes on the reader. But one day the reader realises that fuck the others, he is wealthy and so known that no-one dared to mess with him anyway so reader and Spencer would publicly announce their relation ship.

(sorry if its too long of a request)

This got away from me a bit, I'm so sorry. I also made a moodboard because I was so inspired. This was soooooo much fun to write. I love me a good noir AU loll. Edited by @mystic-writes

Moodboard by Me

You laugh lightly as Spencer pushes you into the wall right outside of your bedroom, kissing down your neck and sucking right below your collarbone. You chose to have your top three buttons undone tonight, just for this very purpose. You wanted to entice, without making it known that it was your intention. You got a few ladies coming over to try and talk to you, much to your brother's delight, but you rebuffed every single one of them. They weren't who your heart was truly with.

You moan as you grind your hips against Spencer's and pant out, "We- uh- we should get inside. Before someone sees us."

"Let them," Spencer says, kissing your neck more. "Let them see us. I don't care."

You push Spencer away, holding him at arm's length, before saying, "I do. I care. Do you know what my brother would do if he found out who I shared my bed with?"

You look away from Spencer, who sighs. "Maybe I should go-"

"No, wait," you say, grabbing his wrist. "Please don't. Just, hold me tonight?"

Spencer smiles and kisses you.

–

"Hey! Little brother! Come to watch the show?" your older brother Luke asks you from his usual seat. He's the only one in the club, but that makes sense since the sun hasn't even set yet. You walk over and sit down next to him, and he leans over, whispering, "Isn't she a vision?"

he points to the obviously very beautiful woman on stage, with dark skin and black hair curled beautifully on her head. She's wearing a white rhinestoned dress with spaghetti straps and you think you see her pearly white heels underneath . She looks stunning.

"She's not my type," you say, leaning back and listening to her sing.

Luke hits your arm. "No one is! I swear, if Ma and Pa hadn't raised me to be such a gentleman, I would be kickin' the snot out of you to find out."

You snort when he says he's a gentleman, but cross your arms and ignore it. "I do have a type. You just don't know what it is," you snort, and look over at your brother, who's frowning at you. "You're not her type either." You nod to the woman on stage.

"What do you mean? I'm everybody's type!" Luke exclaims and the woman glares at you.

You snort. "She keeps looking over at Penelope at the bar, making sure she's watching. She's singing a love song, but the only person in the entire place that it's for is your bartender."

Luke's eyes go wide, and you smile and slap him on the shoulder, while the woman finishes her song. You give Penelope a wink as you exit.

–

That night, you walk into the club. No one's singing at the moment, but you met the woman, Tara, back behind the stage in one of the back rooms that had been converted into a dressing room for her. She's going to go on stage later, and you paid her something extra to make the first song a love song.

You were good for it after all.

You haven't been keeping up with the family as much as you used to, but you notice your brother doing deals every now and again, and you have to step in to save him from getting his ass beat.

You take a deep breath and walk into the crowded club, the low jazz coming from the band on stage. You walk over to the bar and order a gin from Emily, who smiles at you and takes it from your fingers before you can grab it. She points at one of the tables where you see Spencer, sitting with a woman, ignoring her flirting. You sigh and thank Emily, before going to the table with your drink, and sitting down on Spencer's other side.

"[Y/N]!" he exclaims, a grateful look in his eyes.

"Spencer! Good to see you," you say, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. You squeeze it and he smiles at you. "Who's your friend here?" You ask, gesturing to her, but you don't stop touching him.

"Uh, this is… uh…" he starts to say, but the woman frowns at him when he doesn't say it.

"I'm Lila. Lila Archer," she says. While you're in Chicago, most folks around here don't have any sort of accent. She however has a southern lilt to her words. She's blonde haired and blue eyed, and she looks incredibly uncomfortable in here, surrounded by both black and white folks. There was also the occasional Hispanic person in here, like your brother, but they are few and far between.

Your brother owns one of the only mixed race clubs in town, only because he was adopted into the family as a young boy. He has the money as a non-white to own and run a business. Helps that his "family" is a majority white as well.

Your grandfather was sent to Chicago from New York to make sure the city knew the Italians still ran the place. But, he likes to pick up a lot of strays.

Doctor Spencer Reid being one of them. No one quite knows what he's a doctor of, but he seems to be a doctor of everything. Medicine, the arts, mathematics, you name it, he probably knows it. It's one of the many reasons you fell in love with him.

"Miss Archer. I've never seen you in here before. Is this your first time visiting my brother's club?" You ask.

She nods stiffly. "That's right. My father wants to buy this place, but he can't seem to put in an offer big enough. Says he wants to rid the city of it's filth and reclaim it for the whites once again."

"Well, Miss Archer, as you can see, there are plenty of whites here tonight," you say, gesturing to the people seated at tables and getting drinks from the bar. "And I'm really hoping you don't share the same… convictions as he does, because otherwise, I might just have to get one of my people to throw you out of here."

You make eye contact with Morgan who's sitting at a nearby table and he nods at you, acknowledging what you want.

"I-" she begins to say, before she deflates. "I wanted to see what was so bad, all the voodoo and evil devil worshiping he says he's seen you folks doin'. But, y'all just seem like good honest people."

You smile at her and stand up. "I'm glad to hear it, Miss Archer. I think you'll find we're a lot more human than everyone makes us out to be." She smiles at you and you turn to Spencer, holding out your hand. "Now, my good doctor, would you do me the pleasure of joining me for a dance? Miss Lewis is about to start her singing, and I heard it's going to be *beautiful*."

Spencer grins and takes your hand. You drag him to the dance floor, where there's already a group of people dancing together, swinging them around their bodies, moving and shaking and laughing.

The music gradually changes, and while it does get slower and softer, it is by no means a slow dancing tune.

You start shaking your hips and kicking your legs and Spencer does the same. He spins you around, almost forcing you to go out and in, and it's perfect. The melody is beautifully sung by Tara, and you smile as your back is pulled to Spencer's chest. He loops his arms around you, and you look up at him, smiling.

He's looking at you with a quizzical look, as if saying, "You sure you want to do this?"

Instead of answering, you kiss him. He opens his mouth and you slide your tongue into his mouth, capturing his mouth in a wet and heated kiss. When you pull away, he has the happiest smile on his face.

You look over at your brother, who has the angriest look on his face, and you raise an eyebrow, silently saying, "Just try to stop me."

[rantrambles]

Ever get so upset you make a Tumblr account to vent?

I haven’t even listened to The Penumbra Podcast yet but it’s on my list because it’s insanely popular and the cosplays I’ve seen are hot as hell (A+ to all the cosplayers I’ve seen you’ve done great work). Now, with the recent news surrounding the podcast, I’ll wait till it’s done if I ever do get into it. I’m Asian and part of the LGBT community but I’m not nonbinary so I can’t say much about the trans represention in the art but I wanted to add my two cents on the matter as a person of color and someone examining the situation from the outside. Also, before I get deeply into it, I’m not the only person of color with opinions on this matter so if people have their own frustrations and criticism with the racism in The Penumbra Podcast and/or the new artist they hired, definitely listen to them too. These are my own personal opinions, and I’m sure other people will disagree and that’s fine. We’re all going to have different views on this so bear that in mind. Also, feel free to correct me or add anything if I’ve missed some information. Here’s a great breakdown of the whole situation for those that don’t know what happened. Finally, I was very hesitant to post this, but I felt it was important because I make a statement at the end on how race should be presented in a podcast format so if you are interested in making a podcast and want to have a diverse range of characters, please skip to the end to read those thoughts.

I’ll start off by saying, I’m not even that upset with the new artist that The Penumbra Podcast hired. I know that statement alone is controversial but I don't personally know them, and I’m not going to judge who they are as a person by a few pieces of art they’ve made. They are the least of the problems that I have here. Since the announcement and the backlash, I’ve been scrolling through the artist’s Instagram account and I can tell why people find the designs offensive, but I’m also comparing the designs to the artist’s other work, and I honestly believe that’s just their style. They’ve exaggerated the features of just about every character they’ve made, regardless of race or gender. From what I’ve seen the sharp angles and overly round curves in the anatomy that make some of the character’s features more jarring are how they prefer to draw. I’m sure they’re capable of drawing more realistic proportions but for the most part they’re art aims to call attention, be bold, and create distinguished features. Not inherently a bad thing on its own.

And yeah I’d understand the issue if this were a scenario where the artist heard how these characters acted in the podcast and thought “hey, obviously this character is a black woman because they are super strong and therefore must have big muscles, no other woman could look like that” or “hey, this character has to be Asian because they act super seductive sometimes better draw them as such.” But from my understanding the race was already decided by previous official artists and a general description of the characters were already generated by the audience, similar to how The Magnus Archives leaned towards drawing scrawny Jon with black, greying hair and dark skin. The new artists couldn’t really change those features even if those features aren’t described in canon because a depiction that strayed too far from popular fandom interpretation would make the character’s unrecognizable to the fanbase. 

I think the reason this became such a big issue for most people is because the new Penumbra artist used their exaggerated art style when making these characters and people of color and nonbinary folks already see themselves drawn as these exaggerated caricatures all the time (with those images being used to further discriminate against them). I’m sure the artist didn’t mean for their art to be offensive, but that of course doesn’t change how it was received. 

According to some, the poses and expressions the artists chose did not fully represent the characters entirely and only served to further perpetuate harmful stereotypes, and I’ll have to take their word for it because I still haven’t listened to the podcast so I have no idea how the characters act. But again much of the criticism is based on the one line-up and doing a deeper dive into the artist’s work I managed to find artwork that was much less offensive. Here some art where Vespa is depicted in a non-violent pose and one where Vespa is in a threatening pose but not an overly violent one. Here is Peter drawn in a non-seductive pose. Hopefully, the artist truly does keep the criticisms in mind as they work on the new official art. I’m just not the type of person that wants to get the pitchforks out and cause this particular person to lose a job they seemed really excited about over their old character line-up, especially when that person is also part of a marginalized group.

Again, that’s just my opinion on that particular artist. Those who are offended by their art are still valid in how they feel, and the artist should absolutely take their criticism to heart to better how they represent the characters.

What I’m more upset about is that I think The Penumbra Podcast should never have released official art for their characters in the first place and that’s their mistake that they refuse to own up about. They have made it clear that the story was never meant to portray characters of colors, a fact emphasized by the fact they hired mostly white actors from the start. They only started releasing art of the characters to get a profit. And the thing is they know what they did was wrong. All I had to do was search Penumbra Podcast racism and there is a note on their website saying that they archived some old official art.

“We have discontinued all Penumbra merchandise that uses the original character designs, and in the meantime, any profits on the sales of that merchandise will go to the For The Gworls project. We also realize that the depiction of these characters as POC, while not appropriate for us to use in our marketing and merchandise, has nonetheless become personally meaningful to many POC listeners. For that reason, and because we do not wish to distance ourselves from our mistake, we are keeping these images on our website for archival purposes. Though we do want to make it clear that many of the main/featured voice actors are white and that we did not write the characters to represent any specific POC experience, you are, as always, free to imagine these characters in any way that you like.”

I went to their shop and they still sell posters and pins with the character’s faces on them, but they are donating it to a good cause so hopefully that stays the same. However, I still find it a little uncomfortable that they are still selling character merch and have plans to continue selling character merch. They have no right to dissuade the fans that already found representation in the characters, but they also have no right to profit off the representation that was built, regardless if they made the story. 

Let’s compare this to another piece of popular media. I love Avatar the Last Airbender and, I liked the ATLA voice actors just fine but there should have been more people of color doing voice acting behind the screen too. The voice actors for that show were mainly white too, however, the creators knew that they would be making poc characters. That’s what makes the difference. Did they still choose to go with mostly white voice actors? Yes. Could they have done better and pay more people of color? Also yes. But I’m not as furious at them because they did their research on the cultures they were basing the ATLA world off of and intentionally gave us a show where Asians could see characters that looked like them represented on the screen. The Penumbra Podcast did not do any of that. Again, they openly admitted that it was never their intention to make the character’s people of color when they made the podcast so that goes to show no research was made to properly represent specific cultures. The color of the character’s skin in their official designs therefore became more of aesthetic choice rather than representation, and it wasn’t even their aesthetic choice to begin with!

Race isn’t a color you can just throw onto the character because you feel like it. So I want this to be a lesson to anyone that wants to make a podcast: if you want to include poc characters please do some research into the cultures you plan to represent the way you would with any other form of media. Just because the audience can’t see the characters and just because it’s harder to smoothly introduce the character’s appearance doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be lazy on how you present the characters. Do research before you start writing the first episode and take the time to hire poc actors. Hiring poc actors is actually the least that can be done to show representation. Also, since the audience cannot visually see the race of the characters on a podcast and it can’t typically be described the way you would in a book, you’ll have to be creative. It’s not my job to say how, but my suggestions would be, before the fans come up with their own image of the character, you need to establish race in the first few episodes or release character profiles on a website so that the fans know you canonically intended the characters to be of a certain race even if you aren’t able to mention it in the actual podcast. If you are unwilling to do any of these then the best route is to avoid stating race at all and allow the audience to build their own representation into your form of media. However, once this happens, you are not allowed to profit off popular fan interpretations. You lose all rights to create official art or images of the characters. You cannot use “we have a diverse cast of characters” when you market your story. It doesn’t matter whether you created the content or not, you did not create the representation for those minority groups.

It’s one thing for fans to build their own inclusivity into a form of art like a podcast, but it’s another thing for the creators who never worked to make the representation happen to take advantage of the representation that the listeners built for themselves. Thank you for attending my TedTalk.

[seiijohhh]

the slow demise [2/?]

summary: He’d found you coated in blood, surrounded by death, and decided then and there, you were perfect. pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!gojo!reader a/n: this has been reposted from my original account @justauthoring - so, if you recognize it, that’s why. im also tagging those who originally requested to be tagged in it, so they know where to find future parts. tags: @thatprofessionalfangirl - @sugarandsoft - @honeyy-honeyy-sweets - @strawberryflavoredjeans - @flowersbloominthedark - @juliajempire​ - @princess-bumblebee - @sageandberries-png - @yue-caelum - @a–nonymousse - @aryksworld - @godsentkita​ - @kat-su-ki

part one - part two - part three - part four

“How is there only four first years? Isn’t that too few?”

“Well, have you ever met anyone who can see curses before?”

Pausing in thought, the tip of Itadori’s popsicle remains in his mouth, before he tips it towards Fushiguro; “nope.”

“That just proves how small a minority jujutsu sorcerers are.”

Leaning against the railing beside Itadori, you glance away from him and Megumi, taking a moment to gather your surroundings. Gojo has left waiting here for quite a while, and honestly, you were getting bored.

“Also,” Itadori speaks up, pulling your attention back on him. “Didn’t you say I was the fourth?”

“Their entry was decided a while ago.” Fushiguro explains, nonchalant as ever, “you know what our school is like. Everyone has unique circumstances.”

Leaning towards Itadori with a mischievous grin, you hold your hand up to give the impression of telling a secret but don’t bother to lower your voice. “They were trying to find a replacement for me,” you grin, bright eyed at the dull look Fushiguro sends you.

“You were the one who said you’d never been apart of our school in the first place,” he quirks a brow, “how could we replace you, then?”

Blinking at his quip, you’re mainly surprised he’s able to come up with one.

“Moo,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “No fun.”

“Sorry for the wait.”

Blinking at the new voice, your straighten out at the sight of Gojo waving at the three of you. He makes his way steadily over, before pausing, head tilting in curiosity, lips parting; “oh? Your uniforms made it in time, I see.” Then, his eyes drift to you, meeting your gaze. “Though, I’ve had yours waiting in my closet for a while.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you pull at the jacket, eyeing it curiously. The outfit was the same colour as Gojo’s and Fushiguro’s, as expected, a deep, dark purple. Yours was slightly different then your male counterparts however, and you’d found a pair of tight fitting dress pants, a white button up, and a cropped jacket with a high collar at your door this morning.

“Yeah,” Itadori grins, sending him a thumbs up. “It’s a perfect fit. Though it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s,” he pulls at the material, “it has a hood, for one.”

“That’s because the uniforms can be customized upon request.”

“Huh? But I never put in any requests.”

With a sigh, you cross your arms over your chest, nudging Itadori lightly; “that’s because he did.” And when he turns to look at you, you shrug. “I didn’t put in a request for mine either. Though, I’m pleasantly surprised that mine came with pants.”

Utterly and entirely too proud of himself, Gojo grins at you brightly, sending you a thumbs up; “I thought you’d appreciate not having a skirt.”

And honestly, you can’t argue with that.

“Whatever, I guess,” Itadori shrugs.

“Be careful,” Fushiguro calls out, “Gojo-sensei has a tendency to do things like that.”

“More importantly,” you speak up, raising your head as you poke your head out. “Why are we meeting up in Harajuku?” Just as you finish speaking, Itadori moves to a stand beside you, pulling your eyes on him briefly before blinking back over at Gojo.

“Because it’s what she asked for.”

“Hey!” Jumping at the sudden pike of excitement in Itadori’s voice, you turn to him as he grins excitedly at you. “Popcorn! I want some!” Without any real warning, he grabs you by the wrist, grip gentle but firm, and pulls you along, whilst you stutter in surprise.

“H-Hey! I never said I wanted some–!”

–

“Um… P-Pardon me?”

It takes you half a second to realize that the older man stood in front of you, is talking to you. His lips are curved into a hopeful, somewhat hesitant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he regards you. “Are you on the clock right now?”

Your lips part, surprised flooding your features. You take a glance back at Itadori, Fushiguro and embarrassingly enough, Gojo, stood a little ways back from you as they watch on with varying expressions of interests. Itadori just looks curious, maybe even a little lost (and honestly, it’s a little endearing), Fushiguro seems rather annoyed and Gojo? Well, you have no idea.

Despite knowing the man for so many years now, you still can’t really gauge what half of his mischievous looks are about.

“Uh, no, I’m not,” you answer, turning back to the man, before raising your hand with a soft shake of your head. “But I’m not–”

“You see,” he cuts in, plainly ignoring what you’d had to say. So much for being hesitant. “I’m looking for potential models.” You take a quick glance at yourself – what about you currently screams model right now? “This is who I am,” he continues, thrusting a card in your face. “Would you be interested?”

You miss the pair of keen and careful eyes that watch you.

“Sorry,” you bow gently, feeling suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m not really interested–”

“Oh! Just hear me out–!”

“Hey, you.”

A new voice calls, and your eyes land on a hand that’s latched itself to the man’s shoulders before glancing upwards. You’re surprised to see a girl, your age, in a similar school uniform to your own, instead hers consists of a pencil skirt.

The man turns to her with a startle.

“What about me?”

You blink at her boldness, unable to stop the grin that grows on your face.

“For the modeling gig, dug,” she continues, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m asking what you think about me.”

“Oh, um! I’m in a hurry at the moment!” He offers a small smile, a nod your way, before moving to walk off.

She doesn’t let him off that easily.

Tugging him back by the collar of his jacket, she growls; “don’t run from me! Come out and say it!”

“Please, I’m sorry!”

“Um,” stepping forward, you try to placate the girl in letting the man go, offering a nervous smile. “Maybe you should–”

“Hey!”

Sighing in relief at Gojo’s voice, you move to rush over to him and the boys, falling next to Itadori, and spinning to face the girl with a grin.

-

“Okay, once again.”

Gojo gestures to the new student, and with ease, she moves to introduce herself. “Kugisaki Nobara,” she introduces herself, hand on her hip. “Be happy, boys. There’s now two girls in your group.”

Head tilting, you let out a laugh at the expressions on Itadori’s and Fushiguro’s faces.

A moment of silence passes, Nobara simply just stares at the three of you, though you notice her eyes are solely on Itadori and Fushiguro.

“I’m Itadori Yuji,” Itadori grins, leaning forward as he gestures to himself. “I’m from Sendai.”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

She stares. Then, huffing: “I always get stuck with unfortunate circumstances.”

“She took one look and sighed,” Itadori deadpans.

“Well,” moving so you’re slightly in front of Itadori, you grin brightly at Nobara. You don’t have many friends, and even less of them are female, so you’re hoping that she won’t have the same reaction towards you. Especially with what happened earlier. “I’m Y/N Gojo, yes, as in Gojo-sensei,” you thumb at Gojo, “but we’re not related by blood, I only took his name–”

“–Hey, how come you didn’t tell me that right away!”

Sticking your hand out, you meet her eyes; “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She stares, and you feel your chest tighten in worry. But then, her eyes are brightening and the brightest (and maybe only) smile you’ve seen on the girl since meeting her curls onto her lips as she eagerly takes your hand. “I’m relieved to not be the only girl!”

And it’s like a weight of your shoulder.

“Hey!” Itadori calls, pouting, “how come you don’t like me!”

“Are we going somewhere?” Fushiguro cuts in, clearly tired of the conversation.

Gojo lets out a mischievous laugh; “we do have all four of you together.” He nods to himself. “Not to mention, two of you are from the countryside. So, of course we’re going on a tour of Tokyo!”

Almost immediately, as if on cue, Nobara, Itadori and Gojo all jump together, bright grins and sparkling eyes as they chant; “Tokyo! Tokyo! Tokyo!” Before, Nobara and Itadori move to stand beside each other, hands clasped with sparkling delight. “We love Tokyo.”

Shoving your hands into your pockets, you watch on with a tilt of your head.

“TDL!” Nobara cries, Itadori latching onto Gojo; “I want to go to TDL!”

“Idiot!” Itadori turns to her, “TDL’s in Chiba! Let’s go to Chinatown, Sensei!”

“Chinatown’s in Yokohama!”

“Yokohama’s part of Tokyo! Don’t you know that? Look at a map!”

Nudging Fushiguro lightly, you turn to whisper to him; “he’s not taking them on a tour, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fushiguro nods, watching the two with disdain on his face. “Without a doubt.”

“I will now announce our destination,” Gojo calls, silencing Itadori and Nobara almost instantly.

“Roppongi!”

Turning to each other, you swear you actually see stars in their eyes; “Roppongi?!”

“I almost feel bad,” you mumble, unable to tear your eyes away.

“Don’t,” Fushiguro mumbles, “they’re idiots.”

-

Staring you at the building that looks quite frankly haunted, you bite your lips.

“There’s a curse here.”

“You liar!”

“You were toying with us country folk!”

With an everlasting grin on his face, Gojo adds; “there’s a bit cemetery nearby. The double whammy of that and an abandoned building brought out a curse.”

With a pat on the back of sympathy for Nobara, who continues to grovel in disappointment, clearly pissed off, you listen in as Itadori speaks up – surprisingly, he doesn’t seem all that upset about the whole lying thing anymore.

“So they really do pop up more often around graves?”

“The issues isn’t the cemetery itself,” Fushiguro explains, “it’s the fact that people associate cemeteries with fear.”

“Oh,” his eyes brighten in understanding. “It was the same for schools, too, wasn’t it?”

“Hold up!” Nobara calls, finally straightening out, “he didn’t even know that yet?”

Scratching at your chin, you let out a nervous laugh; “well…”

“He swallowed a special-grade cursed object?!” She all but screeches as you explain, instantly creating a distance between her and Itadori, disgust clear on her facial expression. “Gross! Unbelievable! That’s so unsanitary and disgusting! No way, no way, no way!”

“What?”

“I agree with her.” Fushiguro cuts in.

“Y/L/N!”

You bite your lips as his eyes fall on you, clasping your hands behind your back while you rock on the heels of your feet nervously. “Um…” You start, voice drifting, “it was kinda disgusting.”

“What?!”

“I want to know what all of you are capable of,” Gojo cuts in, hands in his pockets as he regards the abandoned building. “Just think of this as a field test. Nobara, Yuji, you two go exorcise the curse inside that building.”

Brows furrowing, you turn to Gojo. Why was he..?

“Huh?” Itadori mumbles, “but I thought only curses could exorcise curses, right? I can’t use any jujutsu yet.”

Gojo turns to Itadori; “you’re basically half a curse already,” he reminds. “There’s cursed energy flowing throughout your body. Though controlling that energy isn’t something you can learn overnight, so use this.” Your eyes widen at the familiar looking weapon, if you remembered correctly that belonged to a second year. “It’s the cursed tool, Slaughter Demon. It’s a weapon imbued with cursed energy. It’ll work on curses, too.”

Pulling the cover off the weapon, Itadori eyes it gleaning eyes.

“Lame,” Nobara scoffs, pulling your attention on her as she moves towards the building, pulling a pouncing around the belt hoops of her skirt.

Itadori moves to follow her.

“Oh, one more thing,” Gojo calls, “don’t let Sukuna out. If you use him, you’ll get rid of all the curses nearby in a flash, but you’ll also drag everyone around into it.”

“Got it!” Itadori grins, sending Gojo a thumbs up, “I won’t let Sukuna out.”

“Hurry up now!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Go on, now!”

-

“Man, I finally join the school like you’ve always wanted me to, and you kick me out of my first official mission.”

Letting out a laugh, Gojo sits down beside Fushiguro as you frown down at him. Leaning back, he glances up at you; “sorry,” he grins.

“I still think I should go, though,” you mumble, glancing back in the direction of the building, eyeing it with worry. Biting your lip, you frown; “I mean, Itadori’s still new and everything. And Nobara’s never been in the city…”

There’s an echo of silence, before Fushiguro adds; “I think I’ll go too.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Gojo calls, “either of you. You’re still recovering.”

Huffing, you nudge Fushiguro’s foot lightly, signaling him to scoot over which he does without complain. Falling into seat beside him, your shoulder lightly touches his own, an action that completely misses you, but Fushiguro however does not. And fighting back the faint blush that threatens to grow on his cheeks, Fushiguro distracts himself by turning back to Gojo.

“Y/N’s right,” he mumbles, “someone should keep an eye on them, especially Itadori.”

“True,” Gojo nods, “but the one we’re testing this time is Nobara.”

Complying, you let out a sigh, leaning back on the palms of your hands, tilting your head up to glance at the curse practically oozing from the building.

As you do, you miss the way Fushiguro keeps eyeing you.

“That Yuji…he’s missing a few up here,” he taps his head for emphasis. “He has no hesitation when it comes to killing these things that take the form of living creatures, albeit bizarre-looking ones, to try to kill him. And it’s not like he’s been familiar with curses for a long time, like the both of you.”

You glance at Gojo, meeting his already awaiting gaze.

“They won’t leave me alone!”

“Yes, darling, but… but you’re scaring me… you’re scaring us!”

Shaking your head, a wave of heat rolls off of you, almost pulsating, and it causes those around you to flinch in fear, pushing away from you. You don’t understand, no one will listen to you – they don’t understand. They won’t understand…

You’re not trying to scare them.

“Mama, please, just–”

She holds a hand to you, stopping you from approaching – it feels like your heart might just break.

“Papa,” you turn, swiftly, desperately, but he looks at you with those same eyes. Those same fearful, disgusted eyes and you can feel the tears welling, your sight blurring. “P-Please…” You cry.

“You have to stay away, Y/N. It’s not safe for us.”

“I’m not safe!”

The words leave your voice in a screech, and you hate the way everyone backs away. This is your family, your mother and father, and your older brother and they’re all avoiding you because they’re afraid of you. They won’t listen to reason. It’s not your fault, you’re not trying to scare them – you’re scared…

You’re terrified.

But they don’t care.

“They won’t leave me! They just follow me! I’m not… please, listen to me! Mama, papa, onii-chan!”

It’s useless. They won’t listen.

They’re too scared.

You feel your heart swelling, anger flooding your senses, and the only thing in your head is; they need to understand.

In a second there’s screams. Your eyes snap open to find red, just… red. There’s so much of it, the smell of it floods your senses and makes you feel sick. The monsters that haunt your dreams, that never leave you no matter how hard you try to make them, fly past you in blurs; the red coats them.

The screams never leave your mind.

They never will.

And in the sea of red, amidst your own sobbing, you see a glow of white, and it shines so brightly you think;

that must be my saviour.

The one you’ve been waiting for.

“Yo!”

He pulls his blindfold back, and the sea of blue you see is just so beautiful, your young heart soars.

“So little to be covered in so much blood.”

“–This is a boy who used to live a normal high school life.”

Blinking at the sound of Gojo’s voice, you’re pulled from your thoughts with a startle. Ignoring the pang in your chest and the way it sits uncomfortably heavy, you ignore the sidewise glance Fushiguro sends you, placing your focus back on what Gojo has to say.

“You’ve both seen plenty of jujutsu sorcerers, even those with talent, give up in frustration because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, haven’t you?”

You glance at Fushiguro, and the answer is obvious.

“So today I want to confirm how crazy she is.”

“But Kugisaki has experience, right? Little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Curses are born from human minds,” Gojo reminds, “so their strength and numbers grow in proportion to the population. Meaning…”

“Is Nobara aware that curses in Tokyo are on a different level than those in the countryside,” you finish with a nod, leaning forward to eye Gojo. Honestly, despite being an annoyance most of the time, Gojo was good at bringing the best out of his students – so you shouldn’t be all that surprised by his tendency to search for the best either.

Still, it shocks you.

“And when I say ‘level’, I don’t just mean the amount of cursed energy they have,” Gojo continues, “it’s their cunning. Monsters that have gained wisdom often force cruel choices upon you…–”

“It’s just a kid… right?”

“–with the weight of human lives in the balance.”

Gojo’s words hang in the air, and, with a frown, you glance over at Fushiguro, only for his eyes to already be on your own.

Without having to ask, you already know why.

“Megumi–”

You’re cut off by the sound of glass breaking, your eyes snapping up towards the building, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of a curse.

Fushiguro shifts beside you; “I’ll exorcise it.”

“Hold on.” Gojo halts,

And Fushiguro almost looks appalled, stood, waiting, a second later you feel the same – only for spikes to appear through the curses body, it’s eyes bulging, and in the next second for it to simply dissolve.

“Nice,” Gojo grins, and honestly, you have to agree. That was impressive.

“She’s crazy, all right.”

-

“I live over there! Thanks again!”

You watch the kid Itadori and Nobara had rescued for a moment longer, even as Fushiguro and Gojo move to walk off. Peeking your head around the corner, a fond, soft smile curls onto your lips at the mother who opens the door. Obviously relieved that he sons okay, she doesn’t waste another second quickly wrapping the small boy up in her arms and practically pulling him off his feet.

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt a mother’s love.

“Y/N?”

Blinking at the sound of Fushiguro’s voice, you turn around, eyes wide at having gotten lost in your own thoughts.

“You coming?” Shoving a hand in his pocket, he tilts his head curiously at you.

“Yup!” You call, popping the ‘p’ as you push back your thoughts. Running to catch up to him, you fall in step with him, bumping his shoulder lightly with a grin to which he turns away, a light dust coating his cheeks, causing you to giggle. He was too easy to tease.

“Good Joseph!” Gojo calls to Itadori and Nobara, who decided to wait on some steps. “We made sure the kid got home.”

Almost instantly, the two stand.

“Now, shall we go grab some food?”

“Steak!” Itadori cries.

“Sushi!” Noabara follows.

With two thumbs up, Gojo grins; “leave it all to me! And, you two?”

You glance over at Fushiguro, rolling your eyes when you notice he’s on his phone, not paying attention. Shrugging, you decide to join in on the fun, pumping your first in the air; “you can’t forget about desert!”

“Of course not!”

“Y/N!” Itadori leans towards you, and you blink at the tears in his eyes.

“You finally understand!” Your eyes widen when Nobara follows him, leaning towards you with an almost proud look.

Tilting your head, your lips part; “huh?”

“Last call, Megumi!”

He continues to ignore Gojo.

“He’s just cranky he didn’t get to do anything today,” you whisper to Itadori and Nobara, giggling when he sends you a glare.

“Well,” Gojo says, voice sickly sweet, “let’s go.” And he simply tugs the three of you along, ignoring Fushiguro, who almost immediately perks up when he notices he’s being left behind.

You let out a laugh as he rushes to join.

“Oh,” Nobara calls, “I forgot about my biggest haul today. You,” she sharply points at Itadori, “go fetch my things.”

“Huh? Why should I do it? I thought we were even.”

“We won thanks to my cursed energy. Got a problem with that?”

“What about my raw strength?”

“Your monstrous power from eating weird shit?”

“It’s not just that,” Itadori cries, “right, Fushiguro, Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” you snort.

He just pouts. “Fushiguro?”

There’s no response.

“Huh? What’s the matter, Fushiguro?”

“Nothing–”

“Y/N said it right,” Gojo laughs, “he’s pouting because he didn’t get to join in.”

Letting out a laugh, you nod; “totally is!”

“Puh, puh,” Nobara giggles, a hand to her mouth, “what a child.”

Megumi lets out a grunt, hiding his face behind his collar as the rest of you collectively let out a laugh. And as you share in the moment, glancing around, you’re starting to forget why you were so adamant on spending life alone.

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

So Wrong

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Reader, Jane Bodecker, assorted OCs, also gonna go ahead and say Lee is kinda soft/dark in this one

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Infidelity, alcohol usage, smoking, somewhat dub-con sexual stuff, but not really

Summary: The Reader is a young single mother and widow new to the town of Meade. She gets drawn into a social circle that includes the Sheriff’s wife, while also being drawn to the Sheriff himself.

A/n: I truly don’t know where this came from or why I wrote it. I watched TDATT and suddenly this whole thing just popped into my head complete with a Patsy Cline soundtrack. There’s infidelity on Lee’s part, and his wife is terrible, and these are fictional characters so I am trying to not feel guilty for making that happen. 

There’s more to this story, probably extending into 1 or 2 more parts. I don’t know what to say for myself, I cannot pwp. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome. Not beta-read, so please let me know if there’s an error. 

Hope you enjoy!

Meade is as good a place as any to settle. Surrounded by wilderness and small towns, it’s quiet, far from anyplace and anyone you know. A welcome adventure and a place to dispose of your grief, finally - hopefully. 

You pull up on a quiet street and sit there just a moment to breathe, to look at the life you had that is settled in between the few boxes and suitcases of belongings, the folded up flag, and the little boy you buckled into the seat.

Through a tangled web of connections, you are able to rent a little upper duplex apartment from the widow in town. She claims she doesn’t mind a little noise as your son stomps up the stairs and gives you an open invitation to join her at church on Sundays.

It is six days into your new residence, the first Monday in town when the apparent welcoming committee shows up at your door. She wears a gentle smile on her face and presents you with a warm pie still wrapped in cloth.

“My name is Jane Bodecker, my husband’s the Sheriff. I wanted to introduce myself…”

You know the routine after moving around a few times already. You imagine the conspiring during the luncheon after church yesterday, the ladies munching on dry cookies and deciding who would be the first to talk to you.

You nod and smile, and accept the offering. 

“Some of us like to get together to play cards and socialize on Tuesdays, it would be nice to have you join us and let us get to know you.”

Of course she means that they are chomping at the bit to know why a single woman with no family ties has moved into town. You’re familiar with the ritual and know you need to go along if you want to make it work in this place.

You return her smile, “That would be so kind of you, as long as you don’t mind my son coming along.” You gesture to the little boy hiding in your skirts behind you.

“Of course he can. He can play with my boy, Robert. We will see you at two.” She leaves you with her address and directions over, telling you to look for the house with the red shutters.

Their house is in one of the newer, more developed parts, with some manufactured homes lining the street and looking boxy compared to the traditional farmhouses, but it's charming. The red shutters stand out, that’s for certain. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Jane is a proud host, head of the gossip chain, and is required to mention “My husband, the Sheriff” at least once per conversation.

You let the ladies ask their questions and nod politely as they give you the required chorus of condolences. You feel the shift when Jane steers the conversation to what they all want to know. “Now, I don’t mean to spread gossip, but some folks were wondering why you rented a place here instead of goin’ home to your family.”

Your shoulders stiffen, ‘so much for not putting me on the spot’ you think, but you still smile politely as you answer. “I have no other family. My daddy was gone when I was a girl and my momma dropped me off with an aunt and uncle when she was with husband number three and I don’t know where she is. They said it was the first thing she did that made a lick of sense,” you try to joke. “Well, they didn’t exactly approve of me and Jimmy, so when we married they told me not to go back.”

“And the boy’s other kin?”

“Ain’t no other kin. Jimmy’s family was small, they’re gone now.”

“Well, ain’t you a tragedy,” she says in a chirpy, high voice. 

Your face tightens and you stare at your lap, “We get by,” you weakly mutter. 

They all assure you that they have some nice gentlemen they can introduce to you, and go on about how fortunate you are they are pulling you into their group. You hear about faceless people and their minor transgressions, but get bored with it fairly quickly and use the time to look over the Bodecker home. It’s nice, a mixture of modest and a few state-of -the-art updates. There’s more dust than you expect, the sofa cushions look worn down, with only a few photos on display. The sheriff’s face shrouded in shadows in the one you can see, but you figure their son must take after him since he doesn’t have the pinched look his mother seems to naturally have.

You don’t even meet ‘her husband, the Sheriff’ until your third Tuesday afternoon of cards at their home. Jane herself is practically giving a campaign speech since the election so close. You never paid a lot of attention to local politics, and you try to give her your attention, but when she starts to ramble on it’s just too much. You happen to look to the side to avoid rolling your eyes and catch just when he strolls in, as if on cue with the uniform all perfectly in place. He scans the group of women until he stops on you, eyes lighting up with interest.

Your own breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as he removes his hat and looks you over.

“Well,” he drawls, “You must be the sweet new thing that’s got all the fellas in town rioting.”

You have to look down, lest the embarrassment make you combust.

“Now, Lee,” Jane scolds, “That’s no way to say hello. Come over here and introduce yourself properly.” She guides him over, and you almost say it with her when she recites, “This is my husband, the Sheriff.”

“Apologies, miss. I know you aren’t trying to get them all riled. Janey told me ‘bout your husband. War is Hell, shame to be losing boys like that.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours, his hold firm and warm and you are hesitant to let go.

“I appreciate that, thank you, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods, eyes flicking over you one more time. “What are your plans in this lovely town of ours?” 

“Oh. Well,” you freeze up for a moment, it’s the first time someone’s asked and you don’t have your answer prepared. “Well, I was thinking that I would get a job. We get by right now, but once my boy is in school, I would like something else to do.”

Jane jumps on your answer, “Let’s just see if we can’t find you a bachelor around here. Plenty of boys can use someone to take care of ‘em, but if you want a man who will be home on time, you stay away from any of the deputies. I can’t remember the last time Lee wasn’t busy with something or other from the county. I suppose that’s the life we’ve chosen though, isn’t it?”

Her voice sounds overly sweet, but you can sense the daggers in her words. It’s the way he reacts, shifting on his feet and rolling his jaw like he’s annoyed. Jane doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the cards in her hand. Some of the other ladies nod, but the sheriff just lowers his head before he pulls Jane to the side to talk to her quietly.

You track his movements, fascinated until you shake yourself out of it. It’s been years since you felt like that or even saw a man that caught your attention - not since Jimmy. It’s alarming, unnerving.

The wave of guilt that washes over you is more than you can handle. 

“Please excuse me, but we must be going.” You get up without waiting for any response and practically yank your son right out of the house as Jane calls after you that she will see you again soon.

You brush off the incident after having some time to think, convinced that it is just because you were caught off guard, and try to go on as normally as you can.

Your days end up filled with social calls, running errands or helping your landlady, and keeping your son busy. He asks to play with the Bodecker boy nearly every day, but you try your best to keep your distance when you can, especially when she starts trying to arrange dates for you even when you politely decline.

You look at the other ladies sometimes and wonder how many of them are just tolerating her the way you do. There’s just something grating about the way her voice goes especially nasally when she has something not-very-Christian to say, or the way she talks so openly and obscenely about the apparent whorehouse in town. She doesn’t even seem the least bit shameful when she begins to complain about her sister-in-law and the trouble she gets up to despite her brother being the sheriff.

Sheriff Bodecker, on the other hand, is a bit more friendly than you anticipated, expecting him to be cold or rude, but usually he’s the one pushing his wife to extend a coffee or supper invitation your way and making small talk when you are still around when he gets home from work or if he catches you around town. Your own mind suspects that it’s maybe just a sense of civic duty to know his neighbors, but it’s nice to have company nonetheless. 

Conversation with him comes easily. He talks with you about interesting news stories, about the boys, about some of the other towns, and even plans for the county. It’s interesting, not just debate on whether the new curtains chosen by someone or other are tacky. There are times you get lost talking with him and need to be corralled back in by Jane or Steven getting antsy.

The way he draws your eye is a mixture of curiosity and interest. It makes you notice when he’s driving the patrol car or when you see him around town. You catch how tired he seems at the end of the days, how he’s usually got a piece of candy to slip to kids when they come by and are brave enough to ask. You notice how he knows everyone in town and seems to have an eye on everything, checking in at the shops and breaking up the young men when they start to roughhouse.

In a place like this, Jane Bodecker is far from the only gossiper in town, so while she might not share much about herself or her husband, plenty of others do. Some of the things they say are just nitpicking and you try to drown it out. They’ve been decent to you since your arrival, but it’s hard to ignore the constant whispers of how power went right to their heads.

When the election is over and she gets the right to continue to say “My husband, the Sheriff” you start to really see what they say. She loses the facade of playing the good wife, but still hosts her weekly card meetings to keep up to date. Instead of just coffee and tea, she starts slipping sips of whiskey and gives her opinion a bit more freely than before, and often hurling insults anywhere they can land.

It’s painful to watch her put down everyone, but especially the sheriff when he gets in her way. When you catch him sending a frustrated look at her turned back or rolling his eyes at her complaints about the town and its people, you pretend not to notice and remember to keep a smile on. Her outbursts get more and more unhinged and brazen, and the defeat and exhaustion in his stance makes you ache. There’s a hurt you can’t vocalize without overstepping, but it eats at you, chips at your patience bit by bit.

When the sheriff pulls the cruiser over one day while you’re walking between stores to say hi and make some small talk, you’re pleased. He seems less worn down, it’s nice to see.

“Oh, Sheriff, you’ve got some good timing,” you reach into one of your shopping bags, pulling out a paper bag of hard candies you bought from the candy shop. “While doing the washing, I found a handful of wrappers. Turns out the boys were getting into your candy stash. Thought you might need a refill.”

You hand him the bag and the smile he gives you in return makes your chest tighten up and ache.

“Sweet things from a sweet thing, thank you darlin’.” 

You bit down on your lips, desperate to not react to his flirtatious words. “It’s nothin’, Sheriff.”

“Not to me.”

You start to sway from foot to foot, looking down at the sidewalk with a hum and trying to come up with something else to say. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before his radio crackles with a call from the station. You take the opportunity to make your exit.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

He shoots a glare at the radio, but looks back at you with what you could only describe as longing. “Sure will, Sweets.” Usually something like that would sound condescending, but from him it sounds endearing. He winks and pulls the car away, talking to the dispatcher while he drives.

‘Sweets...sweet thing...darlin’’ his voice repeats over and over in your head, fingers trembling and clumsy with the rush they give you and the way your heart races.

You get nearly sick when you recognize the feelings you’re having. It’s like it was when you were first with Jimmy. When you couldn’t even look him in the eyes because you felt too overwhelmed by your feelings for him. When you flushed and overheated when he got close and said pretty things. When you used to hold onto his hand and promise yourself that you would care for him every day and prove your love to him.

That’s when you realize you’re coveting another woman’s husband.

It’s Thursday, which means you need to head down to Main Street to visit the pharmacy for your landlady, Mrs. Martins, and gather some groceries for the week. You had made plans with Jane to let the boys play together while you took ran errands. You don’t have a good excuse to change the plan, but you can’t help but ask again, “You sure you don’t mind him being here?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, a bit wider and more manic than usual, “Now if that handsome Wilford boy happens to ask you for supper, don’t you worry about rushin’ back, ya hear?”

You laugh at her latest unsubtle attempt, “I will keep it in mind, thanks.” She and a few others had started to meddle, putting eligible bachelors in your path and setting up dates on your behalf. You do try. You talk to them, let them flirt, but none hold your interest. They’re boys - lanky and lean, still all reckless and rowdy. Not what you’re looking for, nothing like the solid, filled-out figure of a man, someone secure and stable and in a uniform. But that’s something to think about another day.

Wilford does indeed ask. 

You do not feel so inclined to take up the offer, especially when he pinches the round of your ass as he asks you to consider dessert before any supper. 

He has you pressed against the wall outside the hardware store, letting the sun blind you and bring tears to your eyes as the bricks snag the delicate threads of your dress.

He only backs away when a loud voice booms out, “There a problem here, son?”

He turns his head to find Lee pulled to the side of the road, window down and arm resting on the frame, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“No sir, Sheriff, just makin’ some supper plans, ain’t we?” Wilford looks back at you with a leer. Your hands press flat against the building and your knee twitches with the urge to jerk up and hurt him.

“I thought we were expecting you tonight, isn’t that right?” Lee asks you pointedly. 

Your attacker looks back at Lee, then to you, and you nod. Finally, you’re given some space. 

“I imagine you need to be moving along then?” Lee checks, waiting impatiently for Wilford to answer.

“Yessir.” He gives you a wicked grin and spins away to go back down the street. “Maybe another time when you’re free.”

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at his back as you glare.

Lee taps the side of the cruiser, “C’mere.”

You take a shaky breath and gather yourself with a nod before taking the few steps across the sidewalk. Leaning down you take a moment to look him over in his uniform, the badge gleaming in the sunshine and eyes clear blue as the sky.

“You alright, Sweets?” he asks, voice low and gentle. He’d taken to calling you that since the candy incident, always in that same tone - like it’s precious and important. The way it hits you right in the center of your chest hurts more than the physical damage done a moment ago. You know he isn’t asking if your heart is aching, or if you’re alright being lonely, or any of the ways you’re feeling it right now, but it strikes you in an unexpected way.

“I’m fine,” you smile tightly, “Thank you for checking.”

“These boys just don’t know how to handle themselves when they see a pretty lady.” Your cheeks ache as you try to keep from beaming at the off-hand comment. “Ya know, I’m getting ready to head on home, you need a ride that way? I’m guessing your boy is stirrin’ up some shit with mine?” He turns and scans the road and sidewalk around you, fidgeting a bit as he asks.

“I still have to make another stop and my car is at the end of the block, but thank you.” You stand up.

“Well, I mean it, you and Steven stay for supper tonight, I’ll square it with Jane.”

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

“No worries, darlin’.” He winks, taps his fingers on the shell of the door by the painted logo and waits until you nod in agreement. “See you soon, then.” And with a nod he pulls off the curb.

You watch the cruiser drive away, then look up and down the street, but no one else is there. You finally manage to draw in a full breath, and rush to get to the cool air of the pharmacy to ease the flush burning you from the inside out.

You make it back to the Bodecker’s before the sheriff, glad to have a few moments to smooth things over with Jane since she clearly had not expected you to turn down the date she arranged for you.

“He wasn’t too much of a handful, was he? I told him before I left that he better mind you today.”

She waves you off, sitting back down at the table with her abandoned cigarette in the tray and a small glass of brown liquor.

“Well, the boys’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure. They’ve been running circles round the whole damn house.” She ashes the cigarette before taking another puff and settling against the backrest of the chair.

You take a moment to look over the kitchen, a pot is just about to boil over so you make your way to it. “Can I help you out with anything? Give you a moment to freshen up ‘fore Lee gets home?” 

“I suppose that’s the least you can do.” Her cheeks draw in another puff and she hums, taking her glass with her as she goes to their bedroom.

The boys run inside, breathless and sweaty, both shouting while they tell you about a nest they found outside before you order them off to get washed up themselves. You look down the hall, waiting to see if Jane was on her way back or if she was expecting you to finish her cooking. Rather than let it burn, you do just that, taking care of the potatoes, adding a few seasonings as you go, and pulling out the meatloaf from the oven. 

The screen door squeaks and boots thud through the house when Lee enters and makes his way to the kitchen. You nervously look over your shoulder, catching him leaning against the door jamb, spinning his hat in his hand, a soft smile on his lips as he looks your way.

“This is a sight. If I didn’t know better I’d think I wandered into the wrong house.” 

You let out a bit of a nervous laugh, then look back down to the greens you were tending to, “I am so sorry, I kept your wife busy longer than I should’ve. She’ll be out in just a minute.” You go back to busying yourself with finishing up the meal.

“Not complainin’,” he mutters under his breath, but you still hear it and it makes your breath hitch. Jane could set you on edge with her snide remarks, so could Lee, but for completely different reasons - some that had been dormant for so long you didn’t know what to do. 

Just then Jane makes her grand reappearance, hair freshly combed and lips tinged with a touch of color; her cheeks look ruddy, but you can’t tell if it’s rouge or flush from the alcohol she’s been sipping.

“Don’t you go adding too much milk to my potatoes, nobody likes ‘em all runny. Here, let me,” she says and nudges you out of the way, “See you gotta mix in just a little bit right there.”

She overpours anyway, her hands moving unsteadily as she mashes the potatoes up, making them runny just like she warned you about. 

From behind you, you see Lee go to the table, picking up the liquor bottle and examining the contents, making marks with his fingers against the side of the bottle and shaking his head. He takes a swig himself and sets it back down.

He mumbles something about being sober, then walks down the hall to where Jane disappeared, stopping to say something to make the boys giggle on the way before they wrestle each other at the bathroom sink to wash up for supper. 

The meal starts off quiet, just the utensils scraping along the plates, but Jane being the gracious host, finally tries to perk it up with conversation.

“I know Wilford might be a little rough ‘round the edges for someone from a bigger town, but there are still several other young men I can introduce you to,” she offers, unprompted.

You choke a little before you recover and finish chewing your bite of food.

“You needn’t go through the trouble, Mrs. Bodecker. Really.” 

“It’s just, you’re so young to be widowed already and all alone. What kinda home will it be for the boy with no man around? And don’t you want more kids? I bet you just glow. Some of the ladies at my bible study wouldn’t mind setting you up.”

The idea makes you squirm. No, you aren’t dead inside, but there’s no way for you to get what - who you really want.

The sheriff speaks up then. “My old man took off on my ma, sister, and me. That’s just the way shit happens sometimes,” he says and you feel the dark cloud start to clear just a bit. You nod at him, acknowledging the little bit of affirmation.

“What was your husband like?” Jane presses, digging a little further into that painful wound. “Maybe that will help me out.”

Your Jimmy didn’t have much to give you, but he gave you all he could. He gave you the kind of love that made your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach swoop with butterflies. Your eyes flick toward Lee and you think again about how alike they seem to you, handsome, intuitive, assertive, strong-willed. He catches your gaze and pauses his chewing for a brief second while he waits for your answer. 

“He was a good man, strong and fair. I’d like to think he and Mr. Bodecker would’ve gotten on quite well,” you finally say, smiling kindly at them both in turn.

Lee’s lips curl into a smile while he finishes chewing, then sits back with a stretch. “You’re makin’ me sound like an old man,” he whines, “Call me Lee when I’m not on duty.”

“Yes sir,” you automatically reply. “Lee.”

His smile grows. “Say, Janey? Why don’t you go get that jug of wine up for us?”

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

“It’s nothin’ special, someone up the road makes it. Tastes better than that church wine, but don’t burn like the shine some other folks are brewin’ up.”

Jane comes back with three glasses and pours generously for you all, her own motions increasingly sloppy from her afternoon drinking.

You sip at it, the taste a little tart, but not as acidic and thank them for their generosity.

“Jane, you do something different with the seasoning tonight?”

“No,” she answers, then goes right back to her chat with you, you think about speaking up, but she goes back to leading the conversation. “So, you still thinking about becoming a working gal?”

“Not right away, but yes.”

“Oh?” Lee asks, “Something at the diner? I think the grocery is hiring?”

“Nuh uh,” her voice takes on a nasty tone, “Nothing like that for her. She went to secretary school.” The lilt in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t care for that little fact. “Can you believe that? School just to learn to file a paper or take a message.”

“There’s more to it than that,” you quietly defend.

“Jane, what the hell do you know? You haven’t worked a day in your life?” Lee asks.

Jane rolls her eyes, body slumping a bit in her chair. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure you don’t go working at the Tecumsah.” She snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “That’s where Lee’s sister works. I told you ‘bout her before.” She gives you a look. “That place is a den of sin, if you know what I am gettin’ at.”

“You’re are gonna spoil my appetite talkin’ like that,” he says. He drops his fork and you startle, his glare at his wife making clear this is another sore subject. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mutters. “I’m gettin’ tired of mending the buttons on your clothes.”

Your jaw nearly drops. You wring your napkin on your lap and scramble for something to change the subject and break the tension, “Jane, there are such lovely flowers planted right by the library, is there a gardening club around here that you haven’t told me about?”

She’s bored by the topic, but it does enough to distract her and send her on a tangent. You nod and hum while you pick at your food. Occasionally you glance to Lee at the side and find him looking at you appreciatively.

You keep turning the conversation away from yourself, getting her to talk about anything you can as she keeps refilling and sipping down more of her wine. 

You use the next lull in conversation to make your exit.

“This has been lovely, and I am so thankful for everything today, but we really oughtta get back home. I need to make sure Mrs. Martins gets her items from the pharmacist and I need to try to fix the old projector she’s given me.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lee asks, leaning forward.

“No idea,” you laugh. “I was hoping to puzzle it together.”

“I can take a look for you,” he offers.

“If you have a moment,” you turn to Jane, “And you don’t mind sparing him.”

She scoffs and waves her fingers, “Nah, take Robert with you.”

He grunts in response while the kids leap up, excited for more time together. You do what you can to clean up and ease the load for Jane, but she’s getting more irritable by the minute, so you shuffle to the door to leave.

You head to the driveway where your car’s parked, waiting for him outside while the boys chase each other around the cars. He steps out the door, swinging his key ring on his fingers, looking at ease without the uniform on, but still strutting with an air of authority. It makes your stomach swoop.

“The Martins place? What road is that on again?” he asks jarring you out of your staring.

“Just follow me, Sheriff. I mean - Lee,” You nod as you get into the driver’s seat, Steven climbing in on the other side.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He mutters it loud enough that you hear him. The tilted, teasing grin on his face as he climbs into his own car almost makes you certain it was his intention.

When you get out, there’s a lump in your throat and the air suddenly feels heavy. Thankfully, the short walk up your drive is quiet, the sheriff walking leisurely next to you and laughing at the boys as they race each other down the sidewalk. 

“I gotta go in the back way,” you swallow thickly as you tell him while you open up the gate, “There’s a private staircase for us there.”

He nods and follows. 

When you enter the small apartment, you’re grateful that you don’t have much to fuss over and that it is tidy by default.

“Why don’t you boys go play with the Lincoln Logs or race cars? Nothing too loud right now,” you suggest and push them off toward the small room Steven occupies. “I got the parts all together right here, but I think something is missing.” You point to the box with the projector parts and reels.

“No problem,” Lee’s voice is quiet in your small space. He takes out the parts and starts to fit things together, checking a few switches here and there after a couple of minutes before patting the top of it with a, “There you go.”

You smile widely, “That’s it? Really?”

“That’s it, Sweets,” he matches your smile.

You suddenly hate the idea of him leaving so quickly, so you look around for something else.

“Coffee?”

He nods. “It’s like you read my mind,” there’s a glint in his eye as he gives you a generous once-over.

You feel a flush and quickly turn away to the kitchen.

Your hands tremble as you fill the kettle with water and scoop grounds into the press.

The boys break into a fit of giggles and before you can call after them, you feel the warm presence of Lee shuffle up behind you. His boots scuff against the floor as he stops, then seconds later his arms cage you in from behind, his palms resting against the edge of the countertop.

His breaths are deep, his nose just tickling along the neckline of your dress and you feel your back stiffen at the rush.

“You’re so lovely Sweets,” he whispers.

Your breath shakes as you suck it in. “S-sheriff,” you swallow thickly, “Lee? What’re you doing?”

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

You remain still, unable to whisper anything but his name again.

“I see the way you look at me,” he presses a kiss to your skin that’s so gentle and tender but nearly makes your knees buckle. “Like you want somethin’.”

“I’m not - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you weakly deny.

One arm leaves the counter to wrap around your middle, pulling you even closer to him while he steps right up behind you, the whole front of him up against your back. The movement makes you gasp and arch just slightly. You’re unable to catch yourself from rolling your head back to lean against him fully and feeling him grunt.

“You don’t need to make any excuses. You want me, dontcha?” he talks with his lips pressed right against your neck, heavy breaths tickling at your hairline.

God, do you want him. The sudden feeling of a warm, masculine body against you is something you didn’t realize you missed so much. For years it’s just been you and your boy and focusing on the day to day, not thinking about the way a strong arm feels pulled around you with fingers just tickling at your sensitive skin - until suddenly that’s exactly what is happening. And how you’ve missed it, your muscles nearly seize up with tension as you try to fight how good it feels.

It’s like trying to drag yourself from a dream, slow and muted as you try to make sense of everything at once; a sharp clarity punches through hard and fast.

“Your wife,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, ready to try to pry him off.

“That fucking pig? I don’t love her, I don’t want her. She don’t want me either.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” you tell him and start to pull away, squirming away but getting nowhere since he doesn’t budge an inch. He allows you to spin around between himself and the countertop. “Lee? What is this? What’re you doing?”

It’s a stupid question. You know what this is. You can remember moments like these with your late husband, but Lee is not your husband. You know his wife. You just spent the evening with her in their home.

He doesn’t answer. Instead his free hand starts to skim up along your side until his thumb catches at the curve at the bottom your breast, then slides up so that he can rub his thumb back and forth over your dress, teasing at your hardened nipple.

It makes you whimper and nearly fold in half with how sensitive you feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he coos, his lips parted and eyes tracking the movement of his thumb.

You lift your arms to his shoulders, uncertain yet if you’re planning to push him away or pull him close when you hear the quick footsteps of the boys.

Lee steps back to give you some distance and your hands flutter mid-air as you try to compose yourself.

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

“No, he keeps takin’ the blocks I’m using.”

Some kind of clarity forms and you rush out a solution for them, “Why don’t you get out your TinkerToys and split it all up? Alright? Go back to the other room,” you nudge them away.

Problem solved, they run back to the room, leaving you standing in the kitchen, Lee lingering just feet away and the half-finished coffee press on the counter.

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

He grunts and shakes his head ruefully, “She’s probably passed out by now.”

“Oh,” you nod. You search for something, anything to excuse yourself and catch your breath, “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

You slip out of the kitchen and into the door just down the hall. Taking a moment to relieve yourself then press a cool rag to your cheeks. You’d nursed the glass of wine Jane had poured, so you knew deep down you weren’t tipsy, you were just overrun by the feelings the sheriff gave you. Once you get your first full breath in minutes, you feel better, calmer and more controlled. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide - you just need to send him on home.

You barely crack open the bathroom door when it’s pushed open wide, Lee wedging in when it’s wide enough and nearly slamming it shut behind him.

“Don’t hide from me, Sweets,” is all he says before he’s got one arm around your middle again, and the other holding the back of your neck while he presses his lips against yours. After gasping in surprise, you instinctively return the kiss - your tongue and lips tentative against his dominating mouth. 

It’s strange - all of it so strange after so long. It’s been years since your last kiss and you feel clumsy, out of practice, but he doesn’t hesitate one bit, doesn’t seem turned off by your uncoordinated motions and hands that can’t keep still over his middle and shoulders.

He takes in a deep breath, pausing for just a second to position himself better, then he’s back on you, and you feel ready for him this time. One hand resting on his chest while the other hooks up around his neck, your fingers stroking through the soft, short hairs at the back of his head. He turns the both of you, pressing you against the vanity sink.

“Lee,” you whimper when he wedges a leg between yours.

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

His kisses are relentless and make you light-headed, gasping for breaths every time he slightly lets up. His hands push and pull, struggling against your dress and your undergarments until he’s freed one breast and can drop his head to suckle at your hard peak.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, mind painfully aware of the children in the room nearby. You crack open an eye to make sure the door is still closed and try to focus on the sounds the kids are making, but his tongue and lips are too distracting. He pulls as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, greedily swirling his tongue all over the sensitive bud, and pulling away with a loud pop.

You slap at his shoulder while he just looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Feels good, right?” He places his hand to cup your breast, thumb flicking at your nipple. “Let me have you, I’ll make you feel so good, my sweet girl. Please?”

His own eyes close as he ruts up against you, his hard length pressing against your hip and sending a tremor through your body, practically shaking your bones. You don’t move though, your hands stay frozen where you hold onto him, but he continues to lead and coax you along.

One wide hand holds you at the back of your neck, just holding you in place. His mouth moves across your cheeks and at the hinge of your jaw. He whispers quiet promises of satisfaction, telling you how lovely you are and confirming every word with a kiss. His other hand leaves your breast after one final and quick pinch and grabs at the bottom of your dress. The fabric bunching in his fist as he gathers it until he can feel your thigh.

Then he teases you with just the tips of his fingers, sliding right up and over til he meets where your thighs meet. It tickles, makes you shake a little, and then you’re sucking in a hard gasp when he keeps going until he pets and presses over your sex with the pads of his fingertips.

“So wet,” he says on an exhale, pressing right where you feel your excitement leaking. “You want me too. It’s alright.”

To prove his point, he presses harder, flattening his hand until he’s cupping you and making your body jerk between him and the sink. You bend your knees to open your thighs wider with the touch, and he groans and presses hard against you again, the heel of his palm putting pressure to your throbbing clit. You struggle to not hook your leg right over his hip to let him in.

“Lee,” you start to beg, “Please. Oh my god, please.”

It’s so overwhelming you start to sob, the tears already prick at the corners of your eyes. Just being touched, feeling the warmth of him, and the words - it’s all that you remembered being with a man to be and more. His hand keeps a rhythm against you, driving you higher. You hadn’t had a man’s touch in years, but suddenly you need Lee like you need air.

“Please,” you say again. Your body tingles with electricity that has nowhere to go.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, baby. I’m gonna take care of ya. Am I what you need?”

“Yes,” tears start to roll down your cheeks. He pulls back slightly until he can slip his fingers underneath your panties, gliding right through your arousal. You feel two of his fingers slide into you, and you squeeze around them instantly.

“Fuck,” he grunts. Your wetness drips down his fingers into his palm. He presses the heel of it against you again, right against your sensitive clit this time. “Come on my fingers, sweetness.”

He fucks you with his hand, his thick, solid fingers caressing you while he sends jolts of pleasure through you with pressure on your sensitive button. You squirm to get away, but the hand still at the back of your neck tightens and holds you down, making you take it.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “It’s alright.”

And that’s it. You freeze for a moment as the pleasure peaks and then you’re trembling as the shocks of it rush through you in a blaze. You can hear the wetness drowning his fingers as he keeps pumping them into you while you clench over him repeatedly and sob as quietly as you can, which must not be very quiet because he starts to shush you and slow the movement of his hand, gently attempting to calm you down.

“You’re okay, s’alright baby, just breathe, c’mon,” you hear him coach, but all you can focus on is the thumping beat of your heart as it races and trying to catch your breath between sniffles, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

His hand slides out from your panties to grab you steady at your waist, the hand from your neck moves so he can use his thumb to wipe away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours and tells you to breathe with him.

You blink your eyes open, eyelashes glittering with wetness and you take a minute to focus. Once things are clear, you tilt your head back to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and rosy, and his eyes - they nearly glow as he looks you over. It’s something to see - awe, tenderness, pride all in the twitches of his lips as his lips turn up with a smile.

“Sweets, will you touch me?” he asks. For such a big man, his voice is suddenly so small.

“Lee, I can’t-I haven’t…” you struggle to find the words.

“It’s alright, that’s alright,” he assures you, circling your wrist with his fingers still sticky from your arousal, and guiding them to the bulge in his trousers. You flinch, but don’t pull away, your arm tenses, but goes with the motion. He presses your palm against the solid length, pushing down to give him some relief. His hips press against you in return and once he’s sure you aren't going anywhere, he lets go of your wrist, then starts to undo the belt and button in quick movements. He tugs the waistband of his trousers and boxers down together, just to release his cock.

You feel the fabric move under your palm, but keep pressing against him, your hand sliding just slightly out of remembered instinct. When the fabric of his boxers slides away and you’re met with the heat of his cock, you gasp. Your hand wraps around him, fingers circling around his shaft to hold him and pulling a strangled moan from him.

“Shit-fuck,” he hisses. “Won’t be long.” He wraps his hand over yours, pulling your fist up and down over him while he pumps his hips into it. Precome drips down from the slit, easing the glide. 

His eyes close and he presses his temple to yours, his face pulls up in concentration, focusing on the pleasure, “You’re so soft, so sweet,” he rasps, “Want you so bad, want you all to myself.”

You can imagine it, if you’re ready to be totally honest, you have imagined it.

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

His lips meet yours roughly for a long press, then he tilts his head and licks at the seam of your lips, making you open up to him. His hand and yours start to speed up, he keeps guiding you up and down, just the slightest twist at the head with each stroke.

The kiss turns sloppy, more sharing air and pecks than anything as he spirals with the pleasure you’re helping to give him.

“You’re gonna -you’re gonna make me-” with a pained expression, he nudges you away, his hand stroking frantically as he leans over your sink until he starts to come, streaks hitting the porcelain as he chokes down groans. You watch his neck and face go red, trying not to watch, but you can’t help yourself and catch the way his cock twitches with his release, all swollen and red. You don’t think you could possibly blush more, but still fire burns underneath your skin.

When he finishes coming, he reaches for you again, pulling you into another hard kiss. “God, darlin’. Fuck,” he whispers while he attempts to catch his breath. “Fuck. Haven’t been tugged off like that since I was a deputy.” He chuckles, the laugh coming out in hard puffs of air.

You struggle to look at anything in the bathroom, eyes straying back to Lee, to his softening cock, to the come dripping slowly in the sink basin. Just then you hear the boys start to giggle and reality hits you again, making your chest seize up in panic.

“Oh, Lee. No,” you raise a hand to your mouth and quickly rush out the door, piecing your wardrobe back together as you walk back into the kitchen. You hear the water run in the bathroom and murmuring as Lee talks to himself.

Your movement must have distracted the boys because they manage to sound like a stampede heading toward you. You wipe at your nose and eyes as best you can before you turn to see what they want.

Both the boys pause, but it’s your son that speaks up, knowing how you look when you cry. “Momma, you alright?”

Lee exits the bathroom then, shirt tucked back in, belt and trousers back in place - only the flush from the neck up giving anything away. His eyes bore into you with heavy emotion that you are ashamed that you can read so well - concern, sympathy, desire. A mixture that you remind yourself you don’t deserve.

“Yeah, baby. I am. You know I get sad sometimes, I’ll be fine. Are you boys ready to say goodbye for tonight? I think it’s well past your bedtime.”

You grab Steven and fuss with his hair, with his messy shirt, and then turn him around and hold him against you like a tiny human shield. “Say thank you to the sheriff for fixing the projector and for letting Robert play.”

“Thank you, sir,” your son dutifully responds.

Lee can see what you’re doing and he’s not happy with it, his mouth going flat and shoulders heaving as you pressure him into leaving.

He just nods, then nudges at Robert’s shoulder, “Say thank you for indulging us.”

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

You send Steven down the hallway to get ready for bed, and then you follow behind as they step toward the door, Robert too tired from a full day of play to put up a fight. Lee opens the door to the back steps, telling Robert to be careful going down. When the boy starts down a few, Lee turns back to you.

Before you can react, he’s giving you another kiss, quick but meaningful. “We’re not done,” he whispers. 

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

He gives you a long look before stomping down the steps. “Til next time, Sweets.”

...

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

Must be this tall to Hunt| Boba Fett (tcw age so like 13/14)

Couldnt find a good teen boba gif, so heres bosk instead

Warnings: fake blame,

Reader: female

"You are expelled from the order-"

"What!?" Y/n shouted looking up at the council, "I did nothing! Master Plo! Reason with them!"

"I am sorry little one, I-"

Y/n was heart broken, looking up at the surrounding Jedi, this couldn't be true.

"Master Obi-Wan!" Y/n pleaded.

"Your attachments grow," Windu spoke, "and with them your anger."

"My anger?! My anger?!" Y/n shouted at him.

"Little one please." Plo pleaded, "I have brought a witness."

"You!?" Y/n argued, "Master I demand an answer! Why! Why would you- You out of all People!-"

She watched Anakin walk in guilt ridden on his face, "You!? Anakin! You!?"

He kept quiet as Fives walked in, her world stopping.

"Y-Your lieing!" She shouted, "Fives?! Not you! I trust you and you do this!?"

"Arc Trooper Fives." Windu spoke, " what have you seen Padawan Y/n do?"

Fives looked at her, "I. Saw Genral Y/n with a clone trooper,"

"Im with troopers everyday!" Y/n defended.

"What was Padawan Y/n doing with this clone trooper."

"...intercourse sir." Fives responded.

"Thats Obsurded Fives! And you know it!" Y/n argued, "You're my brothers- Why in gods name would I fuck any of you!"

"Y/n! That is enough!" Plo argued.

"You believe this crap!? You're suppose to have MY back!" Y/n demanded, "I'd have your back no matter what! And you turn on me!"

"Are there any other witnesses?" Fisto spoke.

"Yes." Windu spoke, "bring them in."

Y/n watched, her brothers, the wolf pack, Commandos and even some from the Corosaunt Gaurd walk in, and they strung there string of lies and they strung them high and low, entagled the lies beyond untanglement.

"Padawan L/n is to be expelled from the Order and that is our final verdict."

The platform she was on went downward, the clone troopers who had made there testimonies were gathered at the bottom, a path for her to go through.

"Y/n-" Wolfee spoke reaching out a hand.

"Don't you dare touch me!" She shouted in anger pushing past the clones.

"It had to be done." Commander Thron spoke quietly.

The others nodded.

"Damn it!" Fives shouted running out the room and rushing down the halls, after the light echoing of Y/n's angered footsteps.

She pushed the doors open and just walking out them she stopped, hearing Five's steps behind her.

"General. It had to be done-"

"What!? The lies! The string of lies you built! Why!? Why would you do this to me?!" Y/n argued looking back at the clone.

"We wanted to protect you-"

"Bullshit Fives! Bullshit! I love all of you! All of you!" Y/n shouted, screaming so loud it was sure to be heard all the way down to the lower level.

"Y/n listen!-' he grabbed her shoulders trying to plead with her but she pushed him away ingiting one side of her double sided saber as Fives quickly backed up.

"Touch me again and I'll kill you." She spoke.

"I don't even deserve death. I know- I-" Fives tried to explained, "We wanted to protect you-"

"Then you should of had my back!"

The bright blade turned off and she turned around leaving without a second thought.

"Hey! Wake up!" Boba argued.

Y/n turned her self around as she opened her eyes, "what do you want Fett."

"Rations idiot." He spoke as Y/n sat up, the girl only a year older than Bobba.

She was thrown a rations bar by the boy as they were in a hotel room, she had been sleeping on the couch.

"How much longer we waitin?" She asked taking a crunch out of the bar.

"An hour, I told you that the how much longer last time you woke up." He argued looking through the window.

Y/n kept quiet as she ate her food, it bland and bleak in both tast and color.

Bobba took an arm chair by the window as he ate his own rations. It was silent for a long mintue.

"Did. You have that nightmare again?" He asked.

Y/n looked over at him, "when do I not?"

Boba ate a peice of his own ration bar, he never knew what the nightmare was about, but knew it was the same one, on repeat.

He had the same.

"You, uh. Wanna talk about it?"

She looked his way, then looked away quickly, only able to see the faces of her brothers.

"No." She replied coldy tossing the barely eaten ration bar on the table, her appetite gone, "I'm gonna go scope the roof, don't wait up for me."

She walked towards the door, grabbing the sniper on the way out.

"I'll come with you. Incase someone tries to get you from behind."

"I don't need someone to have my back." Y/n argued.

"Well then Im coming because I want to!"

He pushed past Y/n as she scoffed, following him close behind as they walked towards the steps, somewhere along the way Y/n hacked into a vending Machine, Boba going up the stairs himself, stealing whatever she pleased putting it in her sling bag, enough for her only.

"Sharing is what?" Y/n questioned Woflee

"An opportunity for someoen to get there arm chopped off, it's my food." Wolfee told her.

Y/n sighed, how she hated her own little life lessons to her brothers, and stole more food, enough for both Boba and her, and a little extra.

Walking up the rest of the steps she made it to the door she kicked open with the bottom of her foot.

"Could you try and be quiet?" He seethed.

"I mean. I could. But no." Y/n responded walking towards the edge where Boba sat on a near by utiliy unit.

She sat down setting her back infront of her as she laid herself on her side her back to Boba the lights of the bright city below barely reaching the top of the tall hotel they sat on.

"You want one?"

Boba looked over seeing Y/n holding up a soda.

"Where did you get that?"

"Stole it."

Rolling his eyes he walked over to her snatching the bottle and sitting himself by her head.

"Hey hey. Fives calm your tits." Y/n laughed.

Boba stayed silent as he looked at her, she too busy looking out and onward, but feeling the stare she looked besides her.

"Oh." Y/n realized, "My bad Fett."

Boba stayed silent, as Y/n took a drink of her own soda, he had realized she had become more sympathetic with her apology.

"You wanna talk about it now?" Boba questioned.

Y/n sighed, answering in silence for a mintue, "My only family betrayed me. Strung a String of lies to supposedly keep me safe. I think about it all the time. We use to find these abaonded places and sit up on the roofs like this, we'd sing, start a bonfire, get drunk."

"Your as old as me." Fett argued.

Y/n shrugged, "war does that, you only live once Fett."

"Then why are you still worrying about it?" Boba defended.

"Why do you still worry about the things you worry about?" Y/n questioned, "but I was kicked out of my group, my name stripped of me, and instead of having my back, they had me cast out. Happy Now?"

It was silent again, the hearing of honking and swearving down below could be heard.

"I lost my dad to the Jedi."

Y/n stopped mid way lifting her drink to her lips but then contuined to drink then pull away.

"They tend to do that..." Y/n responded, "they expect you to follow every rule every word, there no better than the sith."

"You know alot of jedi and sith."

Y/n looked at him once, "It was when you father died did I stop really believing in the Jedi-"

"You knew my father?! You're a jedi-"

"Shut your trap and listen before you get rowdy you damn idiot!' Y/n argued Boba gritting his teeth, "I met Jango Fett when I went on a small assignment, my first one, with Master Shakk Ti- it was basically playing paper boy. I remember delivering work to your father...alot of people were mean to me, he. He never was, always said thank you, always asked me if I had eaten. He even watched me leave on the ship back to Master Plo Koon. So when I went througy reports and found him dead I was in shock, later to find out a Jedi did it. I started to loose faith. Why kill a man lookin out for him and his child, sure capture him- but taking family...I know how that feels and no one should go through it."

Y/n took a drink finishing her bottle and tossing it over edge, "so. I fought. And I fought and I fought. If i couldnt save Jango, I'd save what was left of him- the clones- my brothers. They share the same face but are diffrent than any could imagine. I spoke, I wrote, I pleaded, I trainned. It never was enough, and it was my 'emotion' that got the better of me. Pssh. Yeah right the Jedi can piss off because if they want to see emotion? I'll give it to them."

Boba listened, he had nevee seen Y/n before hand, maybe he had and just didnt remember, he never knew someone could share his pain. Neverless with the same person.

"Windu will pay." Boba seethed, "and your a jedi! You can help me."

"I will go head to head to him, I don't plant bombs." Y/n defended.

"We can take him! Two on one!" Boba tried to persuade, "you know his fighting style! I know guns! You know sabers! We take his head and anyone else that stands in our way!"

Y/n looked at him dully.

"Come on! How many bounty hunters have you single handedly taken on! And killed! How many sith have you injured! Jedi that chase after us! Without your laser swords! We can kill him! Together!" Boba explained standing up, Y/n move to sit up, "We're the left behind! We are the strongest! Because we were left behind! We round up a few others! Bane! Sing! Bosk! And there's always someone paying for a Jedi's head!"

Y/n stood up grabbing hee sniper rifle as she did and looked at her watch.

"It can be a sniper shot! A saber battle! Whatever you want! As long as he die and Im involed I don't care how!" Bobba argued.

Y/n looked down below aiming her sniper adjusting the scope.

"My father would do the same for you-"

He was cut off by a bullet shot and soon the sounds of crying folks who see a man just drop dead on the street, the target they had been waiting for dead. She pulled away from her weapon slowly, turning her head towards him.

"I'll do it.-" Y/n agreed

"No." Boba spoke, "We'll do it. Together. For everything the jedi took from us!"

Y/n looked at the outreached hand as she took it.

"Together."

"As One Unit."

"As One Unit." Y/n responded, "well one and a half"

"Im not that short." Boba argued.

"Shorter than me." Y/n chuckled.