#good god this game is difficult to tag for

[last-flight-of-fancy]

listen i know the reason you cant actually carry people and hug the characters is due to game coding and the wide range of player characters sizes but. in my head it's WoL who picks up alisiae. why am i big and strong if i cannot pick up my new baby sister. this is a travesty. also i am emotionally compromised.

started shadowbringers and wow i can't beleive how fast that chemistry developed

Update:

so uh. that happened.

[roxynugget]

Guys, please, Tango doesn't consider himself a builder in the same way Michelangelo might not consider himself a painter* (see tags). You can accept you're very good at two things, and still consider yourself better at one over the other. It's not negative talk when he calls himself a redstone guy.

[peak-dumbass]

The statements “Larry Butz is much more interesting and important than fans give him credit for, especially at the end of AA1 as Phoenix and Miles’ childhood best friend & with his witness testimony saving Miles from a guilty verdict as well as at the end of AA3 where he is shown genuinely trying to improve himself as a person as Laurice Deauxnim” and “Larry Butz is hard for most people to stand because of his consistent weird moments in AA3 which, along with his constant failing-to-get-with-woman jokes throughout both games, can get annoying and borderline intolerable for some people” are not mutually exclusive.

I really am interested in Larry as a character but god it’s impossible for me to see him as anything other than comedic-relief-that-isn’t-comedic-nor-relieving, I really don’t feel bad when Phoenix is slightly rude towards him cuz I would act the same, if not worse

[softgrass-pdf]

thank you sm for the tag @bluecowgirl :")

S - Sexy to Someone by Clairo

O - Oontz by MICHELLE

F - Francis Forever by Mitski

T - This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) by Talking Heads

G - Good Heart by Indigo de Souza

R - Ribs by Lorde

A - After Midnight by Chappell Roan

S - SOLAR FLARE by GREGNWMN, Carter Ace

S - Six Different Ways by The Cure

P - Photo ID by Remi Wolf, Dominick Fike

D - DENIAL IS A RIVER by Doechii

F - Forget Me Nots by Patrice Rushen

this was so fun omg I really enjoyed going thru my liked songs and seeing so many I haven't listened to in a while!! tagging @evature @a-dream-deferred @doveotion @valetoile @morallyambiguous and anyone who sees this and wants to do it!!!

[fionnaskyborn]

pros of learning how to play fighting game:

undergoing a learning experience, trying out something entirely different from anything i have previously played

i get to look at a little guy do cool things on my screen :)

cons of learning how to play fighting game:

i am clumsy as all hell with the inputs

the order in which you press and/or hold buttons to create inputs is less like trying to get a sequence of movements right and more like playing a rhythm game (down then while not letting go of down press forward then let go of down and THEN press an attack button on the other side of the keyboard). i suck at rhythm games. hell world

sometimes, the damn things just... won't register? at all? you do a half circle to forward input and the game says "half circle forward? oh, sorry, that's ensenga :)" or, worse, "too slow, that's a regular heavy slash move :)". brother. why must you do me like this.

the area between the knuckles of my ring and little finger hurts like a motherfucker (though this has hurt in various areas since at least this morning, but i'm willing to bet that practicing quarter and half circle inputs for at least an hour did not make the situation any better)

[broke-on-books]

✒️ please!!

Send me a ✒️ and I'll pick a poem I think you'd like

After flipping through my notebooks I decided to go with my first instinct for you, which was "A Toast to the Alchemists" by Laura Gilpin. This poem hasn't been published online officially, so they're aren't a ton of sites that have it that I could find with a quick Google search. However I've attatched photos of a reddit post with it along with my version in my journal.

I picked this poem because of its themes of time and the passage of time, as well as magic and giving emotional significance to the most mundane and clinical of things (atoms and elements). In other words, taking magic from the world around us, especially through a lens usually seen as lacking wonder or whimsy. Also vibes, I mainly did it based on vibes.

Some other poems I considered in my search/additional recommendations are listed under the cut:

If you liked the writing of this poem, and haven't read it already (or have) I definitely recommend "The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin. It's by the same author and is her most famous poem and is fairly well known and also soooooo good. So good.

Poems with similar themes:

Poems with similar themes to "A Toast to the Alchemists" are

"Dusting" by Marilyn Nelson 💘 (literally cried to this. To be fair it was 10 minutes after I finished the HDM finale so it was mainly because of that but still. Great poem.)

"The Sciences Sing a Lullabye" by Albert Goldbarth

"Ozymandias" by Percy Bysshe Shelley (90% sure you've read this one its the time theme but inverted and it's great if you haven't)

Rejected picks/Poems that gave me Anu vibes (many for no particular reason):

Poems by Ted Kooser for some reason??? NO idea why they're very different from the ones above but some of my faves are "Selecting a Reader", "In a Country Cemetery in Iowa", "The Constellation Orion" and "Flying by Night" (I'm v much questioning this pick now but I'll keep it up here just in case)

Honestly a bunch of random unrelated stuff was popping out at me ("Listen" by Miller Williams, "Cartoon Physics, Part 1" by Nick Flynn, "Snow" by David Berman) and like a million billion more which I all got from the same anthology (Poetry 180, edited by Billy Collins) so if you want to read a bunch more poetry, based on vibes alone, I'd say look for the book, the website, or the sequel. The poems from that book aren't too similar to the one above but it's really one of two books I generally recommend people right off the bat (it was my lit teachers favorite lol) because it's meant to get young adults and teens into poetry and introduce contemporary poetry in general. Idk how much poetry you've read whatever but even if you aren't new to it it's still a good compilation of late 90s/early 00s poetry that makes you think but isn't super long/totally incomprehensible

Anyways that got WAY longer than I anticipated or anyone probably wanted but poetry is an obsession of mine and recommending poetry is much more complicated and harder that it looks, even for the people you know best in the whole world AFTER interviewing their opinions on poetry, not to mention how difficult it would be for internet friends on tumblr. But anyways there's a couple poems, I got the vibes as close as I could with the poems I had on file. (Although i do feel like I'm missing something big 🤔) Anyways thanks for the ask Anu! Hope you thought my pick was alright!

[bendover-productions]

Hiiiiii, have you watched the capture the flag in Japan season yet? Just curious 🩵

i have!! i really liked it—i thought it was a fun new idea with lots of opportunities for strategy and i wouldn’t mind another season of capture the flag, although i haven’t listened to the layover to know if it’s logistically feasible to do again. also, i was SO charmed by scotty and how earnest he was. i wanted him to win and do good so bad and scotty can do no wrong in my eyes 🫶

[lucabyte]

Finally: The NoHats AU doodles. Plus some sprite edits.

Usually I'd let things speak for themselves and keep my chattering in the tags, but I'll ramble about my context thoughts...

So. First of all here's a link (x) to the Nohats Origin Post for those coming in and going ????.

Anyway. These doodles are not in any obvious chronological order, though Loop going from pilfered bandolier (my headcanon for how Siffrin has all those pockets) -> custom outfit made by Isabeau, is supposed to generally denote 'just after the ending' -> 'a few months down the line'.

And speaking of, Design & Characterisation notes:

Overall: NoHats is suppooooosed to have the range to not just be ULTIMATE MISERY ALL THE TIME (but if you're a major whump/angst fan. go fucking nuts.) so these are supposed to be. The steps toward overcoming and living with grief but. The Misery Is Kind Of The Punchiest Part.... Oops....

Mirabelle: Taking the lead, continuing to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. In the game proper she's already shown to, while yes, be emotionally fragile at times, be prone to trying to hold the team together. I feel she'd do the same here. It also would help that she'd presumably be medicated again? But I can't imagine her chosen-one anxieities would be super ailed by the death of her friend. I wanted to try and give her more differences? She follows the change belief after all and is thus liable to switch up her style in general... But I didn't have a strong vision for this, so. The ball is in anyone's court. Her design changes here are keeping one of Sif's safety pins a la qpr bonding earring, and has the bell pendant at Loop's (oddly pushy) suggestion.

Isabeau: Taking it. Badly. Depression mullet and beard in tow. However, you best believe he is trying real badly to hide it. Loop very much does not reveal their identity to him because What The Fuck Would That Even Do. That's Scary. but they do try to comfort him while mentally regarding him "off limits". Backs themselves into some very unfortunate corners by alluding to their unfulfilled relationship with their Fighter as a point of common ground. I don't imagine this would go super great when recontextualised later after Loop is inevitably found out. Just in general oh good god what the fuck. this is like a radioactive pit of survivor's guilt.

Bonnie: Taking it probably The Worst. This is a child. Who was already feeling guilt. This is who everyone else is trying to keep it together for. Mirabelle and Isabeau would likely be putting up far less of a front without Bonnie around. They take the hat and take on Pocket Duty. They also have slightly more sif-y hairstyle but... Don't worry about it. They'd have Nille to fall back on once she's picked back up, and Loop almost certainly attempts to redouble efforts on making them feel better but seeing as how closed-off Bonnie can already be, it'd likely be difficult. However they would probably take Loop's identity reveal best...?

Odile: Odile's design.... ! Does not seem to have changed? How odd! Well. I'm sure she's dealing with things in a regular and non-cloistered manner. I already think that a regular Postcanon Activity for Odile could be her finding out about the potential for sif/loop to translate books and thus Knowledge in their native tongue assuming that ability sticks around postgame. Something something culture can never truly be wiped out etc etc. But putting it in this context. Makes it more desperate, more of a deflection for something else.

Loop: Helpful Loop. Well. They win! I feel like the entirety of ISAT being about Siffrin's mental state means I don't need to spill much ink here? You get it I think. I can't outdo the source material man. Anyway I imagine Loop is given clothes by Isabeau before they know who they are, but after they've become genuine friends. The outfit is in genuineness, on both sides from Loop and Isa, in having the cloak be a nod in respect to Siffrin, since Loop's "shared culture" would have to come up vis a vis cultural funerary traditions. Hard to avoid divulging that one...

[pearlescentparade]

Hi I’m wondering if you can do 007n7 x reader x 1x1x1x1 Fluff, Maybe even headcannons of all of them taking care of coolkid.. 😼😼

"ah yes. me. my partner. and the personified derivation of shedletsky's hatred" -007n7

🍔007n7 x reader x 1x1x1x1❎ fluff headcannons 💝💞 ft. 🍭 c00lkidd

007n7 and 1x1x1x1 do not get along. the former may try to be friendly and act the bigger person, if only for your sake, but the latter likes to be difficult and exasperating for 007n7 to deal with. the only thing that they can mutually agree on is you

007n7 is gentle and sweet with you, he's essentially your husband and he likes to think of you as c00lkidd's other parent since he raised him alone. he's very openly affectionate! with them, you have a dynamic similar to a nuclear family

1x1x1x1 is teasing and sardonic, but they listen (though begrudgingly) to you when you scold them for it. while his tone is harsh, his actions and attitude to you in comparison to others reveal he likes you more than he lets on. hatred, like love, is a feeling of passion after all. though 1x1x1x1 won't ever say they feel 'love', you can be certain they don't completely despise you, and that's saying something.

007n7 calls you honey, my love, dear, and a bunch of other sappy nicknames typical of a couple. it's not corny, it's cute!

1x1x1x1 either calls you by your name, little one, or "theirs" if 007n7 isn't around. sometimes he'll refer to you by a god-awful terrible pet name to be an ass

you all frequent the park and bring c00lkidd along. he terrorizes the other children and out of you three, you're the only one who tells him to stop because 007n7 is an absolute enabler parent who makes excuses for him and 1x1x1x1 is a d1 instigator. this is another one of the few things they agree on

"he just wants to have fun with the other kids, honey! sure he's a liiittlle too excited, but there's nothing wrong with that!"

"l3t th3m run f0r th31r l1v3s."

"HE'S MAKING THE OTHER CHILDREN CRY."

because of your partners, c00lkidd is very used to having his violent ways. but you know he's a good kid with good intentions, so you need to play the role of the responsible parent and tell him he's doing something wrong. and that fellow children do not, in fact, like to be hit. or choked. or pushed during tag. you're very likely the only reason that he acts semi-normal

007n7 always cooks, with occasional help from you and c00lkidd! 1x1x1x1 is banned from the kitchen ever since he tried to cut vegetables with the daemonshank. don't blame him, shedletsky never taught him how to cook. blame john!

c00lkidd likes to boast to his classmates that he has 3 parents and they could all totally beat up everyone else's parents

he's gotten into a few disputes with the other kids because of this, and once you all had been called to his school to discuss his behavior. though, the moment the faculty saw 1x1x1x1, they immediately dropped it and assured that c00lkidd behaves well. you weren't convinced, and lectured him anyway when you got home

c00lkidd's favorite game to play with his parents is hide and seek. he counts to 10, immediately finds 1x1x1x1 who isn't even attempting to hide, then they tell c00lkidd where you and 007n7 are hiding. he always wins!

1x1x1x1 is definitely c00lkidd's 'fun' parent, they share the most interests and behaviors. thus, he's usually in charge of babysitting him

007n7 loves quality time and physical touch because he think it's the best way to bond. 1x1x1x1 likes gift giving because the gifts speak for his affection when he can't. though his gifts are usually more cryptic rather than sweet and cute trinkets... hope you like twitching and terrified mice

1x1x1x1 is your scary dog privilege. you like to go on late night walks with him because he acts like a repellent for creeps.. and people in general

they're a surprisingly good listener, and especially like it when you have something to complain about. he revels in your hatred and likes to join in the hating

their life's mission revolves entirely around the destruction of their creator. even so, you always assure them that they are more than his shadow. he thinks it's naïve and cute that you think you can derail him from his purpose using puny words, they act like they're listening so that you continue comforting wasting your time

secretly, he does enjoy it when he can hog all of your undivided attention. as if it's only you two and nobody else. they're greedy like that

you have movie nights together, and you sit in the middle of the couch between the two. 007n7 likes action, romcoms, sci-fi, and comedy. 1x1x1x1 finds thriller/slasher and drama appealing. c00lkidd likes action and comedy, similar to his dad. it's always up to you to choose, because the other three alone wouldn't be able to come to an agreement

sometimes 1x1x1x1 sends c00lkidd to beg you for something like getting takeout for dinner or a puppy because 1. they probably want it but you're more willing to listen to c00lkidd and 2. they like to be a headache

whenever you kiss 007n7, c00lkidd loudly screams "EWWW!" and covers his eyes. 1x1x1x1 does the same, then cackles at your unamusement

whenever you kiss 1x1x1x1, 007n7 jumps to cover c00lkidd's eyes because 1x1x1x1 turns an innocent peck into a full-blown makeout sesh

parade postscript: i' never realized how starved 007n7 fans are until i posted the drunk 007n7 fic to ao3 and a commentor got very excited ARE YALL GOOD?

[coquettepascal]

felicitas and her general

summary: general acacius has caught your attention after being the first mortal to worship you in decades. you only face one challenge: don't get too attached.

warnings: rated g, contains spoilers for gladiator ii, follows the timeline of the movie somewhat, reader is the goddess felicitas (who is the goddess of good luck,) this fic is basically just an add on to the movie.

tags: goddess!reader x general acacius, emotional infidelity, lots of roman mythology stuff, writer is basing all her knowledge out of what she remembers from PJO and HoO, worship, complicated feelings, marcus does not cheat on lucilla physically, yearning, pining, grieving, guilt, major character death(s), stalking (kind of), a lot of obsession/dedication, angst, hurt no comfort but also hurt with comfort.

a/n: i watched gladiator ii and then was too emotionally devastated to finish this fic the way i planned. i really hope you all like this!! also, this fic is also dedicated to my dear friend @pascalssbabyy because she is my biggest cheerleader and i love her <33

wc: 7.2k (not beta read)

It was he who woke you.

A quiet sacrifice in the evening that felt like the freshest breath of air you could have, more intense than what you could have atop any mountain, near any spring. The scent of burning meat and smokey vegetables grasped at your lungs, and you almost choked on it. How long had it been since someone had offered you something so kind? Real food, not just scraps of something they didn’t wish for. 

You’d never complain about how difficult it is to be a minor Goddess, you know that you could be a mortal, but most don’t think of how Gods can fade. It’s a physical process, one where you’d notice how your fingertips passed through things like chalices and bowls, how a spoon slid through your hand once. The clatter of gold on the table was embarrassing, even though you were alone. Nothing about being forgotten, or fading, physically hurt. It was only mentally taxing, knowing that you weren’t as important as you once were, that mortals found you insignificant.

Generals used to come and offer things frequently sometime ago, but you couldn’t even begin to understand how long ago that was. When you’re immortal, or supposed to be, mortal lives seem fleeting. You had taken them for granted, and regret it now, for all you have now are the empty clouds above your temple. 

The last offering you can gather was from a young boy, who wanted to win a board game against his sister the next day. He had given you half a bun with strips of meat. Sure, it was thoughtful, but this was something rich. 

You finish inhaling the offering, and then hear the offerer's voice. But it’s muffled, and you want to see who it is anyways, so you swipe through the clouds and create a window to see. Then you can hear him clearly.

Someone who is clearly a general kneels at your altar, which is chipped and dirty. The ashes of the food are in front of him, smoking still, and you can taste the wealth in his meal. It can’t distract you from him though, he is striking.

Broad shoulders support a heavy, curly, grey, head of hair, which is bowed in honor of you. His body is widely built, sturdy for battle, and his voice is just as powerful. You’re so focused on hearing his voice you only catch the tail end of his request.

“... Allow me to come home safely, if not for Rome, then for my wife.”

Your heart squeezes, and you swear you can feel the ichor gushing through your veins. Scarcely when a General came to give you an offering all those years ago would he mention a wife, only ever wishing for luck in the upcoming battle or war. But here, now, you’ve been given a respectful request and offering. It isn’t a thought in your mind to not favor him now, your eyes closing and your mouth murmuring a blessing to him. It feels intoxicating to use some of your power again, especially on someone who asked for it. It also feels intoxicating to watch this General leave.

He looks around before he goes, seeming to note how degraded your small temple has become. The statue of you that lies ahead of your altar is yellowing, and ironically, multiple fingers have broken off. The General seems displeased by this, sighing as he exits the temple.

His gait is heavy, sandaled steps weighted as he walks down them and into the torch-lit night. You find yourself looking for him even after he’s disappeared from your sight, the warmth of gratefulness hugging around you. Part of you knows better than to play around with the thought, but still you wish to know more about him.

—

It worsens when he comes back. A few times a week he returns, offering rich foods. It’s been a month now, and you are coming back to life.

Fading didn’t feel like anything, but coming back feels like so much more. The first few offerings had your body feeling alight again, like the ichor in you was flowing again, but within the last two weeks you’ve gotten your fingertips back. They were tingling for a day and then the next you were able to properly grasp things again, nothing was slipping through you.

In that time you had also learned his name. A guard had come looking for him one night, and stood behind him whilst he prayed. You had found yourself smiling when he didn’t interrupt himself, instead acting aggravated once he had finished. The guard had apologized for interrupting and let him know that “Your wife wishes to speak to you, General Acacius.”

Acacius. 

You still don’t know his first name, but it is enough. You can think of it when you feel lonely, when you are bored. Something to associate with the offerings, with the blessings. The fact he has been so consistent hints at a desperation, which would usually repel you from blessing him, but he is the only one who seems to recognize you. His efforts are not going to go unseen by you, not when you have so little to do.

You can feel yourself conceding to your need to know him more, but just as you begin to fight yourself again, he shows up.

Tonight he’s dressed a little nicer. Usually he arrives in a plain tunic but this one has golden trim on it, and his hair is a little more tousled. He stumbles into your altar holding something in a cloth, but he’s walking like he’s… drunk? 

Acacius meanders to your altar, grabbing a torch along the way, and then empties the contents of the cloth. It produces a small dessert bun, a Libum, or honey cheesecake, and your mouth waters. So much of the food that is given to you is savory meats, masculine foods that are heavy on the senses, but this is sweet and delicate. You can, of course, eat whatever you’d like. You’re a Goddess, and though you aren’t major, you are still very fortunate.

But this feels thoughtful.

The General drops to his knees after lighting the bun ablaze, swaying slightly, and now you know he must be drunk.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he begins as normal, “I am sorry I am later than usual. Though I don’t know if Goddesses sleep. I was… caught up in other affairs, but I made it in time.”

He is less eloquent than usual and seems particularly focused on how it is nearly past midnight.

“I brought you this though,” he gestures to the half burnt bun. “I wanted to bring you something different than meat and… things. I thought a dessert would be fitting for that task.”

Acacius pauses now. His thoughts are probably muddled from whatever he drank, and you find yourself smiling. Foolery has never been so endearing to you.

“You have been listening to me, I suppose. My requests for luck in battle have been answered, as well as my safety being ensured. Your blessings have brought my wife peace of mind, something I could not previously afford to her.”

He looks so small in your temple tonight. Normally he is not so vulnerable, but his shoulders sag as he mentions his wife. Some sort of shame runs over him at the idea that he could not ease his wife’s worries, but it makes you feel better that you could help. 

“Goddess Felicitas, I come here tonight bearing no requests, just gratitude. Your blessings have soothed wounds I could not see, and I feel like a young soldier again. You invigor me.” 

Then, he leaves. 

You watch helplessly as he stumbles back down the steps and away from your temple, and more than ever you wish to chase him. The love he has for his wife is clear, and you hold no jealousy of that, but you wish it were you. Something in you is deeply attached to this General now. He has awoken you so much more than rekindling your power as a goddess, more than releasing you from the grief that comes with fading. Yes, Acacius has made your heart beat again, your mind curious again, and you feel seen. Being worshipped is not the same as being loved, if that were true you’d have had many children by now, 

But after so long being forgotten, this feels like what you remember being loved as.

—

You try not to interact with the other Gods for the most part. They tend to meddle in things they don’t need to, and are sensitive. You are not exempt from this stereotype, but that’s only more reason for the distance. 

But today, you venture to meet another deity.

Morpheus is not hard to find. He is pretty stationery where he is, usually lounging on a rock or bench near his temple, or above it in the clouds. He is a bit…dramatic, from what you remember, but wise. 

Today he is stretched out on a cloud above his temple, eyes shut. His pale skin stretches taut on his bones as his lean frame breathes deeply. But, he is not asleep. 

“Morpheus,” you speak. 

His body rolls toward your direction, eyes still shut, but a small smile on his face.

“O young goddess Felicitas, what brings you to me?” He questions.

It’s hard not to feel embarrassed. You’ve spoken to Morpheus on very rare occasions, but he’s always been somewhat helpful, though nosy. Dreams tell a lot about people, and when he’s the one giving them to people, it’s hard to hide anything at all.

You don’t want him to know of your true affection for General Acacius, just that he is… worthy of a visit. 

And so you begin to describe it to Morpheus, your need to visit Acacius. He doesn’t open his eyes at all, but he raises his eyebrows a lot and seems bemused at your situation. You’re only halfway through your rambling before he raises a gangly limb and waves at your words.

“Felicitas, you think you are the only Goddess wishing to visit her admirer? You need no explanation,” he says jovially. 

Morpheus reaches into the air and pulls 6 black berries into existence, then drops them into your open palm.

“When you know he is asleep, bite down on one of these and think of him,” he describes to you.

The berries smell like nothing, but a powdery residue is left on your skin as you roll them in your palm. It doesn’t repel you at all.

Tonight, you will visit him and express the same gratitude he did to you. 

—

Marcus lays next to his wife, Lucilla, with her hand in his. She fell asleep sometime ago, leaving him to lie awake by himself.

He didn’t make it to her temple tonight and the guilt is festering in his body. Marcus knows that she is a Goddess, that he probably isn’t a thought in her mind. He knows that he is just another whiney mortal, giving her food that isn’t nearly as good as whatever Gods eat. His insignificance grows as he feeds into his guilt. 

Stress has permeated his life for much of it, from his time as a young soldier up until now, as a General. Battles, politics, and his family, have created a breeding ground for him to be wracked with anxieties, but he stays strong. Thanks to his time in Felicitas temple, it’s been better.

Which is why failing to make it to her temple tonight is making him feel so bad.

He grabs at the linen sheets of his bed, stressing and trying to reassure himself until he falls asleep finally.

—

Being in a dream is weird. It feels much the same as it does when you disguise yourself as a mortal, the out of body experience is semi-familiar, but it’s weird because someone else is there.

You’ve been watching the General enjoy the lake in front of him for a few minutes now. He hasn’t slipped into it, but just walks along the waterline. It seems like he is looking for something. Surely his dreams usually contain more action, or perhaps are memories, so you assume it may be strangely understimulating for him.

The appearance you’ve chosen is one of modesty, but elegance. A seafoam green peplos hangs off your frame delicately, with golden clasps at the wrists and waist. You did your hair so it would be tucked out of your face. There is no guarantee that Acacius will recognize you like this, but you look much like your statue that’s within your temple.

Swallowing your nerves, you shimmer yourself into visibility. The grassy field is odd beneath your feet, and you walk toward him with uncertainty in each step. You’ve never met with a mortal before, and you haven’t stepped on anything earthy in a long while. His broad stature only becomes more daunting as you get closer, especially since he seems so focused.

You will have to speak first. You’re much too quiet in this environment, and you must act fast lest he wake before you get his attention.

“General Acacius,” you speak firmly, though your hands shake. 

This is so unfamiliar to you. You’ve barely even seen his face, as he’s usually bowed at your altar. It is the first time you’ll see him at an equal level, the first time you’ll have brought yourself to him rather than him to you. 

He turns quickly, an instinctual aggressiveness toward the unknown. You stand about 10 feet from him, eyes widening.

Acacius is striking. His nose is what you focus on first, strong in shape and line, but behind it are his eyes which look to you with wide acknowledgement. His hair curls around his head in greying ringlets, like a permanent laurel crowning him. The wide expanse of his back was once impressive, but now you can see the solid wall which he becomes when facing you. Nothing could push him over it seems, a man built to stand.

Your heart squeezes the way it did the first time he gave you a request, a tender rush tingling your whole body. No words come out of either of your mouths, and the General drops to one knee instantly. 

He recognizes you.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he rushes out in a breath. His chest is heaving as he bows his head and no, no this isn’t how you want this.

Your feet are moving before you can focus on your anxiety, bringing you so close to him that you can kneel too. Maybe a goddess should not kneel before a mortal general, but you are just on your knees rather than putting yourself below him. Your peplos billows a little as air rushes through it when you hit the grass.

He is above you like this, and you tilt your head to see his face again. His strong brow is furrowed, eyes squeezed shut like he is afraid of you. 

“Acacius,” you say softly, “I am not here for… for ill reason. Please relax yourself.”

You lean back as he relaxes, head tipping upwards as he kneels in front of you as well. Now you can meet his eyes, see the crinkles that are beside them, and really take him in.

An energy of anxiety is shared wordlessly, with him stiff from the sight of a literal goddess, and you with the fear of… something. 

The identity of your anxieties isn’t something that you can figure out. Maybe it’s too much to see such a handsome mortal, or maybe it’s that you’re going to thank him for his offerings so personally. Maybe it’s humiliation from this act. What would other Gods think of this? Is it not degrading to become so attached to a mortal? Are you no better than Zeus or Hermes, the gods who interact too intimately with mortals? 

The sound of his labored breathing alerts you, calls your attention back to the present moment. 

“I wanted to thank you,” you admit meekly, “for your offerings. You have been very generous and… devoted.”

His eyes are shifty, and you can see the terror in him still. You don’t want him to fear you, but you can understand why. Visits from Gods or other deities can mean trouble, but you aren’t significant like that.

“General Acacius you are the first mortal who has acknowledged me in a long time,” you offer a vulnerability, perhaps trying to soothe him.

It feels so backwards for you to be kneeling in front of him, speaking. He has done so in front of your altar for many weeks now, but now the spots are switched, yet you are still in power. You avert your gaze as you speak up, wanting to request something of him.

“You’ve been so generous to me, General, I was hoping to know more about you.”

And now, rather than scared, he seems suspicious. 

“To know me?” He clarifies. 

You nod.

“I only know your last name. I think I could offer more luck and splendor if we were more… personal.” 

Gods that felt awful to say. You’re no better than the whorish brutes on their thrones, offering petty glories for intimacy. Everything feels flirtatious but that’s not what you’re looking for. Acacius has a wife he clearly loves, you would never want to interrupt that. 

He seems to hesitate, but he knows he cannot refuse you. So far your blessings have brought ease to his life, he wouldn’t want to lose that.

“Then… yes, I suppose I can offer myself if it would please you.” He responds stoically. 

And it does please you, to know his name. Marcus Acacius, the one who woke you, the one who has saved you from being a fragmented memory within the temples. 

Marcus Acacius, who you are too fond of.

—

You visit him 3 more times. In an attempt to space out the usage of the berries Morpheus gave you, you only visit him once a week. The bleak tasting berries are sour on your tongue, a rotten sour which lingers once you wake up, but it’s worth it.

The two of you have grown closer, with Marcus opening up more. He tells you about the stresses in his life, how much anxiety is buried in him. But, he’s confident for the sake of his wife. You’ve learned that her name is Lucilla, and much more about her. Marcus talks about her a lot, in passing or retelling something she told him. In the small amount of time you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve gotten to know her as well.

It burns you with a strange warmth, a desire and envy which makes your stomach growl. You are hungry for him to admire you in the same way, to speak of you, but doesn’t he already? Shame grips your throat when you think of it. You are a Goddess who he sacrifices to, who he wishes to have blessings from. What more do you need? A mortal couldn't offer you what another deity could. 

After the fourth meeting, you found yourself lonely. Lazing back in the clouds above your temple, you woke with a deep hunger. Marcus is beautiful, an admirable man, and he loves passionately. You are already being such a glutton for even speaking with him, meeting with him repeatedly, so why must you yearn for him too? 

Worship isn’t enough, you want what you will never let yourself to have.

Nothing hints that he might feel similarly. His starry gaze which lands on you is not due to your beauty, your personality, or anything more. You have blessed him, and that is why his eyes glitter. Goddess status has never made you feel so low and isolated. Still, you are happy to help him achieve what he wishes, even as it cripples your heart.

Tonight you plan on visiting him. That fourth visit was a week and a half ago, he may be wondering where you are. He still comes to your altar each night, but the prayers are less personal. Marcus saves his stories and ramblings for when the two of you are in the field, or near the lake, when the two of you are really alone.

—

You bite into the berry at around midnight. Its tangy yet death-tasting juice floods your mouth, clinging to the crevices between your teeth and staining your gums. Closing your eyes, you think of Marcus, and his curls, and his eyes, and his nose, and his strong hands.

And then you are there, and he is waiting. 

It seems like his subconsciousness has picked to be at the lake today, and he’s sat in the sand at the edge of the water. You walk over to him, but notice how… down he appears to be.

“She is not happy with me,” Marcus confesses before you even sit down.

You stand a few feet back from him, looking at how his curls fall around his bowed head.

“Lucilla?” You ask softly.

He nods.

A wicked feeling begins to steep in your heart. She is upset with him, he is in need of you for something more than a blessing. 

And so you listen. 

It’s one of the longer meetings the two of you have had. Marcus doesn’t cry, but he seems truly upset. He’s been called to go off somewhere far again, to fight and kill. Reassurances that you will protect him as best you can only soothe him so much. 

He doesn't care if he dies, he cares that his beloved is distraught over this. 

The more the two of you talk, the closer you get. There are marks on the sand from where you originally sat, but now you kneel in front of him, with creased brows and worried eyes. This isn’t something you can fix, you aren’t familiar with love and its intricacies. 

His knees were tucked closer to his chest before, but they’ve loosened now and his fists rest atop them, clenching. Frustration sits on his face like a mask, one you wish to take off him.

Touching is not… something either of you partake in. Sometimes your shoulders will brush when you sit together, but nothing more has ever been initiated. 

That is why it doesn’t surprise you when he flinches as your hand reaches out to rest on top of his right clenched fist. 

“Marcus,” you say softly, wanting to offer comfort, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t,” he replies swiftly.

At first it hurts, watching as he waves off your hand from his own, but then you look at his face rather than where your hands were joined. The frustrated look on his face is gone, replaced with something worse, something guilty. His eyes aren’t glittering at you like usual, nor are they hardened with anger.

They’re soft pools of conflict that mirror your own.

It doesn’t soothe your burn, satiate your envy. You can see in his eyes that maybe you aren’t alone in these feelings of admiration, of want, but maybe this is not what you want.

Maybe you want a different universe, one where he doesn’t have to be a mortal and you, a Goddess. So you wouldn’t have to worry about him dying, and have this friendship survive off death flavored berries. Maybe you want a universe where he isn’t married, where he could be yours and you wouldn’t feel like a spectator to his heart.

Maybe you want that, but you won’t get it.

Instead the flames of jealousy die in your chest and are replaced with tumors of guilt. Your whole body feels bloated, embarrassed, and ugly. 

The pair of you stare at each other, a stupid realization between the both of you as you realize that your secrets have been spilled, even though it’s the same one.

His eyes don’t move from yours, so you move from his.

The sandy edge of the lake does not look so bright now, even though there are no clouds in Marcus’s dream. 

“When do you leave?” You ask softly. 

You will not follow him into whatever battle he’ll win. Don’t embarrass yourself, Goddess.

He tells you two weeks. You say you’ll see him before then.

Then you wake on a cloud again, with a cavity of guilt in your chest.

—

Marcus wakes alone. 

Lucilla had not wanted to sleep with him that night, choosing to stay elsewhere. She didn’t tell him where, she left in a quiet flurry of tears and anguish.

It’s easier for him to feel guilt over his Goddess than it is to hurt his beloved, even if it is the same.

In a moment of frustration he grasps at the sheets, turning over and biting at his pillow. The bed is so cold, and the room smells like stale air even though the window is open, the night breezy. 

He knows she is beautiful because she is a Goddess. All Goddesses are beautiful, ethereal beings that mortals cannot even comprehend at times. Marcus knows he is lucky to even perceive her, for her to have chosen to visit him.

Yet through all her blessings, he feels cursed.

A plague of emotional infidelity is crawling through his body, sticking to his bones and making him stiff. Everything he does has felt flat for so long, from pretending he is grateful to the Emperors, to now pretending nothing is wrong in his marriage. He’s scared, and exhausted.

Marcus rubs a hand over his face after rolling over and sitting up in bed, groaning into his palm. 

At first he tried to blame her for it. What would a Goddess want from a successful General other than a demigod hero son? What could truly be so special about him? He assumed she was manipulating him, using some sort of power to morph his heart, but now he knows it is not true.

If she had wanted to, she would have had him by now, and he knows this. If she had wanted to, her hand would have stayed where it was tonight, and pushed him further. It isn’t unlike the Gods to force themselves on a mortal, but she didn’t.

Instead, his hand feels hot where hers rested, and his mind is spinning. 

Marcus doesn’t fall asleep again, afraid that he’ll see her. 

—

You wait for a full two weeks before you visit him again. He had been coming to your temple less, and you had assumed he was busy with preparations for the coming battle. 

The stubbornness you felt that night has not left you. At first you did not leave your temple in fear that you would grow attached, now you remain there because you have grown attached. 

“Enough is enough,” you had thought to yourself. 

But it is hard not to miss him, and his soothing prayers. The way his offerings tasted of smoke and sweet, and how he’d always burn such a large portion. Marcus never gave you scraps, he seemed to refuse to. 

However, you can only distance yourself so far. 

It is quiet when you approach him. He is sitting in the field this time, the lake a distant glitter in your eyes. He does not face you, but his head isn’t bowed like before.

“Marcus,” you greet, your voice muted.

He raises his head, turning over his shoulder and nodding, as if to direct you to come closer, and so you do.

Tonight’s visit isn’t vulnerable, or even pleasant. Marcus seems so distant as he dryly tells you about how he’s preparing, and his wishes to return safely. His eyes barely meet your own as he talks, and he continuously twists the ring on his finger.

It grows tiring, watching him ramble about politics you could care less about, listening to him say things that have nothing to do with him. He’s so far from the friend you thought you had made. When the air between you goes quiet, you don’t fill it for a while. You listen to the sound of the wind in the grass as his eyes still will not meet yours. It’s breaking you apart.

This is the last night you’re able to visit him, unless you visit Morpheus again. You will not waste it like this.

“What is ailing you, General?” You ask, deciding to prod more than you usually do.

To your surprise, he scoffs in light laughter.

“You,” he responds quietly.

His words don’t hurt, at least not yet. You have the option to walk away now, wake yourself and leave him with his final blessings, but of course you don’t.

“Me?” You ask, “what have I done?”

Marcus rolls his shoulders back, lifting his head to look into the everblue sky above the both of you.

“You have made my life difficult, Goddess.”

Difficult? You have made his life difficult?

You have half a mind to tear him to pieces, curse him with something awful like snakes for toes, or spoons for teeth. After all that you’ve done for him, all the safety you’ve provided, he is telling you that you make things difficult? How dare he? Be outraged, Goddess, for he disrespects the holy luck which you bestowed to him.

That’s what you should think, that’s how most of you should feel.

But instead you feel small, and hurt. Yes, he is disrespecting all that you’ve given, but also you feel like a failure. Your physical existence is because of him, because he did not let you fade. All you wanted to do was make his life easier, help him to have an eased mind and a safer life.

But instead, he’s telling you you’re difficult.

It feels like your body is shrinking in the white peplos you’ve worn, the sheer fabrics swallowing you. Shame is flooding in the form of tears behind your eyes, wetting your orbs with an unexpected outburst of emotion.

“I am sorry,” you manage weakly.

Marcus does not look at you while you cry, and you want to believe it is because he cares too much to watch, but you cannot verify that.

The wind picks up again, but it does nothing to hide the soft cries you can’t hold back. Once you were a fading Goddess, now you are just a failing one.

There is no luck involved with love.

Eventually he speaks again, with his head turned away from you.

“I am sorry too,” he says. There’s a finality in his tone that makes you ache.

So much is said in such little words. He is sorry to you, for you, and with you. A sorrow is shared between the two of you, knowing that your hearts ache for one another as they are worlds apart yet on earth together. 

This last berry was only supposed to mark the end of your visits, not the end of everything. It feels like this is all there is for the two of you, since it’s too complicated to continue on like this.

That’s why he doesn’t move away when you move closer and rest your head on his shoulder as tears leak down your cheeks, or at least that’s what you’ll believe. 

—

Time moves weirdly when you’re immortal, but it all happens so quickly.

Marcus stopped coming to offer things for you, and so you were blessing him less. Admittedly you had kept an eye on him, but not a keen one. It didn’t feel right, not when you and him weren’t… friends anymore.

But this feels too soon, too fast, too unfamiliar. Has your sadness caused you to be blind?

You watch as a man kneels in front of Marcus, panting and bloody with a sword beside him on the ground.

The only reason you are here was because you had felt the roar of a crowd all the way at your own temple, a wide distance away. It had drawn you in, and instead you had found this.

That roaring which you had heard crescendos to a new height around you as you shimmer into existence, cloaking yourself to the mortal eyes in the stands of the coliseum, but existing enough to touch him.

Arrows stick out of his front, more crushed beneath his back, as he is slumped on the white, gravel, ground. His hair is curled with tacky blood streaking through it, and he is so, so, still.

You drag your hand across his forehead, feeling the remaining heat, and in the echo of the crowd you begin to sob. 

Everything around you is moving, changing, fighting, and screaming, but you sit invisible in the center of the coliseum, running your hands over the now dead General Acacius. There is nothing you can do to bring him back, to ease Lucilla, to save him and apologize. He is dead beneath your fingers, with arrows lodged deep in his irreparable, mortal, flesh. 

You were supposed to keep him safe.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as you keep grasping at his armor, unable to move him or yourself. The last visit felt official, but this feels final. There is nothing more for you here, no friendship in a corpse.

Thoughts are running through your mind at the rate that your breath is puffing from your chest. The question of where he will end up in the afterlife is overwhelming you, and the chance for him to go to Elysium feels reasonable. It’s where he should be, where he deserves to go, especially after all he had done for Rome. You don’t even care why he’s here, or why he seems to have been brutally killed, but after the time you spent with him, Elysium seems right for him.

—

It’s where he should be. Elysium is where he should be.

And it’s where you find him.

His place there is somewhat similar to his and Lucilla’s home back in the mortal world, with lush greenery and airy drapes that flutter in various colours. It seems like he has left space for Lucilla here too, with space left in the chests for her things, and a permanently made half of the bed.

Elysium offers a true celebration of life for heroes, demigodly or not, and you’re sure Marcus has been enjoying that. Anything that he had been shackled to in his mortal life was gone now, and it seems that all he would have to miss is his wife. 

Most of your time is spent there, in his afterlife home. You peer from behind curtains when he comes back, hidden in drapes and keeping yourself small. 

He is already dead, but after the last time you abandoned him, you cannot bear to leave him alone again.

The vision of him, bloodied and murdered on the coliseum floor, flickers into your mind every time you see him lying in his bed. It’s an obsession to be near him, to be looking after him. Pluto might not even know you’re down here anymore, but what does it matter?

Marcus Acacius was the last living mortal to worship you. In the underworld, you are beginning to fade. Your fingers are slipping from you again, which is making it easier to lurk near him, but it is a painful process.

You want to speak to him. No longer do you yearn for his love, not after being in his home and seeing how dedicated his heart truly is to Lucilla, but you yearn to speak to him again. A panicked emotion runs through you at the thought of fading alone, of being entirely forgotten. 

It didn’t matter before he died, fading was just something bound to happen, but now it’s more. Is he forgetting you?

—

You’ve lost most of your arms by the time you work up the courage to speak up. Lucilla arrived sometime ago, joining Marcus in the afterlife. Watching them together brought some warmth to you, some kind of happiness that you couldn’t have for yourself, but seeing it for him was enough.

You sit on the terrace of their home, invisible to their eyes, and somewhat to your own. From the tips of your fingers to just below your elbows, you are a specter. Grey shadow fills where your limbs used to be, and they pass through all objects. You couldn’t tap his shoulder if you tried.

Oftentimes you sit, hidden, and ponder by yourself about more than Marcus. There were so many things you were adamant about when he was alive, and you regret it all now. Your determination to avoid your feelings, or at least not show them, and your need to not become attached… it bites at you now, a stinging, grieving, venom, that won’t leave. Your status as a Goddess blinded you to how tender that friendship could have been, and now you sit as a ghost spectator to his afterlife, obsessed with a mortal as a fading immortal. 

The tips of your fingers pass through the glass you try to grab as you think of this on the terrace. You’re glad that you’re such a minor deity, so at least you do not have to feel so humiliated about fading. A smile has just graced your face as you feel blessed for being so unimportant you can essentially stalk this mortal, when suddenly his voice cuts through the humid air of the space.

“Felicitas?” Marcus’ voice asks.

It’s so hesitant that you think you’re imagining it. You thought you had their home to yourself right now, thinking they had gone to do… whatever souls do in Elysium, but when you turn your face, he is there.

Marcus has not worn fancy clothing in a long while now, and right now is no different. He stands before you in a plain looking tunic, which just graces his knees. To see him at ease has been so nice, but he looks distressed at your sudden appearance.

You cannot find your voice as you awkwardly stand up, trying to think quickly. There is no good way to explain what you’re doing here, hidden away in him and his wife’s home. You could just vanish into thin air, but that feels wrong. He has seen you already, any attempts at pretending you aren’t here would be ridiculous.

His eyes scroll from your face down to your arms, and the smoking shadows that used to be there. Concern pinches onto his face with knitted brows and pressed together lips.

Something in you wants him to turn away, so you don’t have to think about why he is worried for you, even after all the trouble you caused, but he doesn’t.

His sandaled steps are heavy as he comes to you, reaching for your hands but finding the gesture fruitless as his own slip right through yours.

“Dulcissima,” he speaks weakly, shock woven in his words.

You had told him about fading a little while ago, when the two of you were in that field. Now it seems the severity of it has hit him.

What is hitting you is the name. Dulcissima, or sweetest. How long had it been since you had been referred to so fondly? All at once you are being remembered, recognized, and shown some affection. It feels like too much and tears are falling out of your control.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, “I was supposed to– to keep you safe.”

Marcus is shaking his head already, refusing your apology.

“No, no. You did keep me safe, you did. I pushed you away, I couldn’t control myself and I caused this,” he argues. 

It does not comfort you that you both blame yourselves. You wish to reach out to him and touch his face like you should have when he was warm and alive. You want to know if he is cold now, and it’s as if he hears you.

Marcus places a hand on your cheek, a softness in his eyes and hold that says that he missed you.

“I saw you,” he claims, “when I was on the ground. You were the last thing I saw.”

Somewhere between life and death for mortals, there are moments of godly clarity. Some see the light, others see their families and memories, but in that tiny glimpse of time, some see Gods. 

He was able to see you as you knelt over him, sobbing as you were cloaked to any mortal's naked eye.  You were the last thing he saw, and the last thing he truly regretted. 

All you can do is stiltedly nod at him, feeling like you were in trouble even though it seems he’s not upset.

For a moment, his eyes flick away, contemplative, but then he meets your gaze again.

“I told Lucilla of you, before I died. Not– not of my feelings which I struggled with, but that you were a close friend, a blessing in many ways.”

A blessing in many ways.

Another choked sob is wracked from your chest, your bottom lip curling out embarrassingly as your face contorts. He almost coos at you, the thumb on your cheek rubbing away your tears.

“Goddess, I have missed you,” he admits. 

Stupid nods are all you can offer, your voice imprisoned in your ever tightening throat which cries. When he was alive he was never this tender, too confused and insecure to ever touch you, but it seems he has been regretting things too.

“Felicitas,” he says quietly, “do you come here for ill reason?”

You shake your head this time, rather than nodding. You have no reason to be here, other than the fact that guilt has taken over your mind and heart since he died.

“Then relax, dulcissima. I have an offering for you.”

Marcus relaxes his stature, eyes still gazing over you. He looks at your fading palms and you watch him swallow nervously.

“I will worship you again, lending you offerings here, and all I ask in return is for our friendship again.”

It’s the opposite of how you met, almost completely, but it’s everything you need. You will not fade, he will not struggle in marriage, and you will have one another again. 

Again, you are nodding stupidly, but soon you’re embraced by him and nodding into his chest. His hands grasp at your back as he tells you how much he missed you in his final weeks, how he regrets losing you entirely, how he requires you as a friend. 

You are satiated in his arms as he comforts you, awakening you again there on the terrace. Unbeknownst to you, Marcus has let tears slip down too as he holds you close. 

“You will keep me safe here?” he asks jokingly.

It makes you smile, the idea of offering luck to a man who already died.

“Yes, General. I will keep you safe here, from all the horrifying glory and splendor,” you assure.

The two of you laugh, breaking the embrace but staying close. A passionate connection is still between the two of you, but in a different way now. Maybe when he was alive it was romantic because it is all you could think of, but through his death the two of you have come to understand it more. 

You require one another in a unique way, and leaning on one another does not have to be intimate the way he is with his wife. Marcus does need you, just as you need him, and now that you are both immortal in a way, you will never be separated again.

please leave a comment, like, reblog, askbox, or ANYTHING. i'd love to hear thoughts on this <33

tags (people who seemed excited for this) (sorry if these dont work)

@pascalssbabyy , @moonshapedflan , @gossipgirl-03 , @kyloispunk , @frannyzooey , @coocoolahh , @bug-boy32 , @honeymarvel , @magicalmorg , @1deakybass , @tuquoquebrute , @harryshousewhore , @teeagain, @chewie-bars , @vampyyweek , @queenslandlover-93 , @amijenn , @aquanatalie

[jinogasux-fr]

PSA: This petsite is too good and it needs more attention (4dopt)

Subtitle: no seriously the customization and how artist-friendly it is is KILLING ME

I'm sorry I have immense brainrot I NEED to talk about this okay SO let me tell you guys about this petsite I discovered a few weeks ago called 4dopt.com.

For the love of god please try this game out (check out the read more for... more info!)

TLDR; You can draw your own species and it'll be added to the game. Players can obtain that species and recolor them to make customs of them if you so choose. You can draw your own items too which can be used for species obtainment and raising stats.

In 4dopt, you can obtain adopts (or pets) through various means, such as using items, getting them from the shelter (which have been discarded by other players), or through the adventure/exploration system as a random encounter.

The fun part? The adopts and items are player-created. Like, I'm talking entire species and items that can increase an adopt's stats or generate a new adopt entirely from them. They're drawn, created, and controlled by the players. Another thing is that these adopts can be completely customizable. You can recolor them, give it different patterns (if available), change the lineart or shading, but only so long as the creator allows it. That's another thing - there is SO much control the creator has over their creations. It's all up to the creator to design different patterns and layers to the adopt, as well as give permissions as to what a player can and can't customize.

There's over 1,000 adopts to collect (and possibly customize) by the way, and more are coming! (It's been a BLAST watching the Discord and seeing all the future adopt WIPs people have been doing ;w;)

I can't describe in proper words how extensive the customization is. Getting the full scope of what I mean is a little difficult unless you've seen it for yourself, so here's a screenshot of me going through some recoloring!

Aaand because I can't help myself, here's a mini showcase of the adopts I've recolored!

the species of each adopt, in order are: caprine, oldwood witch, and paint bird

In addition, creators can control the adopt's gender ratio, what items it comes from (if any), which exploration areas it comes from (if any) (as well as their rarities), and more. You want an adopt to be a seasonal-only thing? Go for it and put it in one of the rotating exploration areas or shops! You want to make a specific pattern of an adopt only available by using a certain item? Do it! I'd hunt one down for that!

A creator can make evolutions of their adopt, which can have different requirements, as well as a stats system which can be renamed to be more thematic to an adopt. (For example, I have an adopt whose Health stat is renamed to Size, due to it requiring to get a big size for it to evolve. These stats can also be used as requirements to put certain patterns or anatomical changes or etc to an adopt when customizing it.)

You may be thinking - oh, but being able to create an adopt/item is probably difficult, right? Nope! All you need to do is have your account be level 10, which, with some exploration, takes no time at all. I did it in under an hour! And then submit a small portfolio of your previous work to gain access to an artist panel, linked here (if you're logged in).

4dopt welcomes all artists, whether you're a beginner or you've been drawing for years, so there's no worries on if you're "good enough" or not. (YOU ALWAYS ARE!!!) If you have an idea, just make it, and chances are, us players will eat it up.

Anyways lightning round of more features:

A tagging system where, if you block a tag (like gore or body horror), all adopt species that fall under that tag will not be shown to you.

A weekly contest where you can show off your adopts as well as vote for others' adopts, and at the end of the week, the top votes get some nice rewards!

A breeding system where the offspring will have a combination of the markings/layers of the parents

Collaboration friendly (wanna create an adopt with a friend? fully supported!)

Read funny and weird blurbs that players have submitted (oh yeah you can submit little blurbs too) to exploration.

The game JUST shifted from registration windows to open registration, so I hope more people give this game a try. It's super underrated and deserves more attention!

Here's the site link again, and if you want to use a referral ID, mine is #3761, though you don't have to. I really don't care I just want more people to JOIN!!!!

Anyways I'm gunna end this post with a couple of guides:

Unofficial FAQ

Species Making Tutorial

Oh, and if you join, let me know your user id and I'll send you some goodies to help jumpstart things!!

anyways thanks for reading my yapping and uhhh if you do join i hope you enjoy!!

[madhels-enby-boyfriend]

Play stupid games

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joanne x reader (company, f!Bobbie)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! Mentions of alcohol, going to a club, actual smut, public teasing, someone persistently flirting with reader and reader being uncomfortable and I think that’s it??

Tags: longing, established friendship between reader, Joanne and the others, jealousy, possessiveness, angst, reader being down bad. Service top!reader and bossy bottom!Joanne, hickeys, eating out (J receiving), Joanne’s first time with a woman, that’s all I think.

Notes: First of all thank you to the wonderful @imorynn for beta reading this for me and cheering me on and giving me confidence while I wrote this🫶🏻🫂!!

Second of all I haven’t written smut in years folks so.. I’m a bit rusty.. I hope it’s still enjoyable. Please let me know if there is anything I forgot to tag/put in the warnings.

Words: ~7.1K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: Bobbie’s fun night out

Your next two weeks had been hectic to say the least, your work had suddenly ramped up both in difficulty and volume. You didn’t get much spare time, so you hadn’t gotten the chance to see Joanne in two weeks and you had to admit that you missed her. Sure you texted her, but that wasn’t the same as being in her presence, as seeing those beautiful brown eyes light up when she managed to fluster you, as feeling her hand rest on your thigh while she explained something to you.

The fact that you had had to turn down three of her invitations to join her to some fancy event that one of her high society friends was hosting, due to the amount of work you had, didn’t help either. You had felt extremely guilty about it, even though she had reassured you time and time again that it was okay and that she understood.

You tried to snap yourself out of your trance to focus on the last bit of work that needed to be done before the weekend. Once today was done, work was supposed to calm down a little again, you just needed to manage to get through these last few hours.. but it was proving to be more difficult than you had hoped. Joanne continued to plague your mind and you didn’t seem to be able to focus on anything other than how much you missed her. You inwardly groaned at your own inability to get this woman out of your head.

You wouldn’t have minded working this much, if you had spent your time doing useful things, or things you found even semi-interesting. But every waking moment had been spent doing things that bored the ever lasting shit out of you and that seemed to have no purpose at all. You frustratedly stared at your computer screen and decided to take a small break, grabbing your phone to text Joanne, something that had almost become second nature to you, whenever you had a minute to spare.

“Are you perchance interested in becoming my sugar momma, so I can stop wasting my time here and start doing things I actually like?”

You sent the text before you could start overthinking it, not having the energy to spiral about your feelings for the brunette at the moment. It didn’t take long for you to receive a reply that matched your playful text.

“Well, doll, if you’re as good at using that mouth on me as you are at using it to make filthy comments, then I may just consider it.”

You could almost hear her say it to you with that teasing smirk plastered on her lips, as she sent a devious wink your way. Oh god… you really were down bad for this woman.

“There is only one way to find out.”

You had decided to reply quickly before pouring yourself into your work again, using it as a distraction from the constant ache in your chest and between your legs. There really was no worse combination than being horny and sad at the same time.

Once your work was done you checked your phone…still no answer. As you packed up your stuff, you began to regret being so forward, had it been too much? Surely not… both you and Joanne had said much more filthy things.. but it had always been said in person, maybe the playfulness got lost over text.

As you made your way home, you fought the urge to send Joanne a clarifying text, stating that you were only joking. But you held back, scared that she might be annoyed at you for ruining your little game if you overexplained yourself. You groaned at your own idiocy, no matter what you did, you’d be filled with anxiety and overthink it later.

When you finally made it to your apartment, your head was spinning from the amount of work you had done, the exhaustion that had caught up with you, and all of the overthinking you had done. Still life wouldn’t grant you even a second to gather your bearings, because not even 5 minutes after closing the door behind you and taking off your coat, your phone rang.

Bobbie’s name flashed across the screen. You begrudgingly picked up, you were exhausted, but you hadn’t heard from her in a while and you felt guilty for neglecting your best friend. Before you could even get a word out Bobbie’s voice rang in your ear.

“Joanne and I are on our way to your place. We’re taking you out tonight, you don’t have a choice. You need to relax and unwind and we’re going to make sure that you do. We’re all getting ready at yours and we brought food so you have no excuse. Expect us there in 10 minutes.”

She was talking at the speed of light and it was taking every little bit of mental power you still had left in you to follow what she was saying. Before you could even protest or respond Bobbie had hung up. She was right, you did need to unwind, but you weren’t sure if you could handle Bobbie’s way of unwinding at the moment. You sighed as you accepted your fate, you knew there was no arguing with Bobbie when she was like this… and you really had missed her. Besides you couldn’t say no to Joanne, not again..not ever really. You suspected that was part of the reason why Bobbie had brought her along.. well that and because she probably had some stupid plan to try and get you and Joanne together, despite your insistence that you were 100% certain that she was not into you.

Bobbie had kept her word and 10 minutes later she and Joanne had stood at your door, holding food. You had let them in and the entirety of dinner was spent catching up on what everyone had been doing these past two weeks.

You were quieter than usual and most of Joanne’s teasing remarks went unanswered by you. You were still overthinking the message you had sent, Joanne clearly wasn’t upset with you or she wouldn’t be here, but part of you couldn’t help but fear that you had made her uncomfortable. No one had questioned your silence though, and after everyone had finished their dinner Bobbie, Joanne and you started to get ready.

Bobbie had chosen your dress for you, claiming you were in no state to dress yourself, because you’d probably choose to go out in sweats or something. She picked one of your favourite dresses, it was a bit revealing but was still comfortable enough to spend an entire night dancing and drinking in. It always gave you a confidence boost, and you sure as hell could use one right about now.

Bobbie had insisted that it would be fine if you all got changed in the same room, according to her you were all mature women and it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. You knew exactly what she was doing though, so instead you had gotten changed in the bathroom, while Joanne and Bobbie got dressed in your bedroom.

You stopped in your tracks as you walked back out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Joanne looked absolutely breathtaking, you were quite sure this dress was new.. you’d definitely remember having seen her in this before. The black dress hugged her figure in all the right places and gave you a beautiful view of her cleavage.

If you hadn’t been so busy gawking at and drooling over Joanne, you would have noticed how her eyes had hungrily raked over your body, any subtlety the woman might have possessed being thrown out the window as she drank you in.

You snapped out of your trance and hoped Joanne hadn’t caught you staring at her. You walked further back into the bedroom as you tried to figure out which shoes to wear.

For a while silence hung in the air as everyone seemed preoccupied with getting themselves ready for your night out. That’s until Joanne walked up to you and broke the silence, her voice quiet, nearly a whisper.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She asked seemingly out of nowhere, it caught you off guard. Had you really been this bad at hiding your feelings tonight? What could you even say? You couldn’t exactly tell her she was the reason for your torment. You didn’t have the energy for this.

“I’m fine.”

It was the least convincing lie you had ever told, and you didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that Joanne didn’t buy what you were saying. You weren’t surprised when she tilted her head questioningly, however the expected disapproving eyebrow raise did not follow. Instead her brows knitted into a frown and her eyes filled with something akin to sadness and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“I can give you and Bobbie a moment… if you want to talk to her about it.”

Her voice sounded less concerned and more sharp, she seemed almost angry… although that wasn’t the right emotion either. You knew what an angry Joanne looked like and this wasn’t it. A frown of your own made its way onto your face as your confusion grew. Why on Earth would she be pissed at you for not telling her something… or more accurately why was she pissed at the possibility of you telling Bobbie and not her?? And that’s when it hit you, the glint in her eye you hadn’t been able to place earlier, it was jealousy.

Your confusion only grew at that.. why would Joanne be jealous? Your more hopeful side suggested that it might be because she had feelings for you, reminding you of how jealous you had felt at the idea of others getting to see Joanne’s more vulnerable side. Your more rational side quickly shot that idea down, there was no use in getting your hopes up, Joanne would never like you, not like that… she clearly had a type and that type was rich people.. and you did not belong in that category.

You internally sighed and decided to try and figure this mess out when you had more energy and weren’t currently joined by the woman that was the reason for your confusion.

“It’s okay, really. I’m just tired, that's all.”

You sent her, what you hoped to be, a reassuring smile while you finished getting ready. Joanne clearly wasn’t convinced, but she knew when to drop the subject, so focused on applying her lipstick.

You tried to focus your attention on yourself, you really did, but you were completely enthralled with the way Joanne applied her lipstick. Your eyes landed on her lips and followed her hand as it steadily and carefully painted her beautiful lips red. You were hopeless, even when your thoughts were racing and the tension in the air felt palpable, you still couldn’t stop admiring this woman.

Bobbie cleared her throat, snapping you out of your trance. You sent her an appreciative look, silently thanking her for bringing you back down to earth. There was already way too much tension in the air, the last thing this situation needed was for Joanne to catch you staring at her putting on her lipstick like it was the eighth wonder of the world.

Some of the tension seemed to ease as everyone finished getting ready. You assumed Joanne had decided that this hadn’t been worth ruining her evening for, or maybe she did buy that you were just tired. No matter the reason, the tension in the air no longer felt like it might crush you beneath its weight and you were grateful for that.

By the time you got to you guys’ favourite club, light banter once again could be heard between Bobbie, Joanne and you. There was definitely still a distinct lack of crude remarks, but you figured that they would return once you all had a couple of drinks in you.

As a thank you for dragging you out of your apartment, you agreed to buy the first round of drinks. You made your way over to the bar as Bobbie and Joanne found you guys a table. Before you even reached the bar you were stopped by someone putting a hand on your arm.

You turned around to look at the person who had demanded your attention. Your eyes met blue ones that very clearly checked you out, before landing on your own again. The woman in front of you was pretty, no one could deny that, her dress hugged her curvy figure, her brown curls were styled perfectly and she carried herself with confidence.

You only half listened to what she was saying though, her intentions were quite clear, the way her eyes raked over your body was anything but subtle, she touched you a little bit too often for it to be friendly, and her compliments held a barely hidden sexual layer.

You had tried to end the conversation, making your way over to the bar, and always answering politely without being flirty, but she didn’t seem to get the hint and had followed you to the bar. As you were waiting to order drinks for you and your friends, she asked the following question.

“Would you care to dance?”

In any other situation you would have gladly accepted the invitation, who wouldn’t want to dance with a beautiful woman that was clearly interested in more than just a dance? But no matter how pretty or attractive this woman might be, you couldn’t get yourself to care about her advances, the compliments she threw your way fell on deaf ears, and this invitation wasn’t enticing to you in the slightest.

It wasn’t the woman’s fault, really, you just couldn’t get yourself to care about anyone but Joanne in that way. You had tried to subtly show her that you weren’t interested, but the woman had been persistent. It had started to make you a little uncomfortable, yet you didn’t want to be unkind, so you answered politely.

“I’m sorry, I can’t, my friends are waiting for me. I’m sure by now they’re already cursing me for making them wait for their drinks this long.”

Your laugh was forced and so was your smile, you hoped the other woman understood what you were saying and would leave you alone. Alas, she seemed to take your words as a challenge and put a hand on your waist. She tried to guide you away from the bar as she spoke.

“Oh come on, I’m sure they won’t mind waiting a little longer.”

You moved her hand away from your body and were about to bluntly tell her that you weren’t interested, when you suddenly became aware of Joanne’s presence. In your struggle to let this woman know that you didn’t want to spend the night with her, you hadn’t noticed her walking up to you.

“Are you okay, baby? Bobbie and I have been waiting for you.”

Joanne purred in your ear as she sent a glare to the other woman, while wrapping her arms around your waist. She hugged you from behind and possessively pulled you closer to her and away from the brunette.

Your brain short circuited for a moment, being this close to Joanne while she called you ‘baby’ was making a mess of your underwear. It took a second for you to realise what she was doing, it wasn’t until you heard the woman in front of you mutter an apology while she walked away, that you realised what her plan had been.

You turned around to face her but Joanne didn’t release you from her grip just yet. So you looked down at her, into her mesmerising brown eyes, and that’s when you saw it again, the emotion from earlier, clear as day, jealousy.

“Thank you, I was running out of nice ways to turn her down.”

You said softly while hoping your blush hadn’t been too obvious, although you were quite sure you were bright red. You made no effort to free yourself from Joanne’s grasp, so her arms stayed around your waist.

“No problem. You looked uncomfortable so I figured you could use a knight in shining armour to come rescue you.”

Her teasing tone was accompanied by a wink. You assumed her playfulness was supposed to hide the real feelings you could see swirling in those brown eyes. They were so clear that even your more negative side couldn’t sow any doubt in your mind about what you saw.

“Well how can I repay you, my brave knight?”

Your tone was suggestive but lacked its usual playfulness. You were either going to regret this even more than your text message earlier today, or this was going to be the best decision you had made in a while.

It was Joanne’s turn to blush now, her eyes quickly flicked to your lips, before focusing on your eyes again, searching them, as if she was trying to figure out how serious you were being.

You couldn’t stop the smirk that appeared on your lips, flustering Joanne always felt like a little victory. That smirk only grew when you saw Joanne’s pupils grow larger as her eyes filled with hunger and want. Any fear you may have held before got drowned out as your thoughts became clouded with need and desire.

“I can think of a few ways..”

Joanne’s voice was low and steady, making it clear that she wasn’t joking. Her hands slowly traveled from your waist to your ass, giving you plenty of time to stop her and tell her she had been mistaken, should you wish to. But you didn’t, because even mere hours ago the thought of this ever actually happening seemed impossible, and yet right now Joanne was looking at you like she needed you more than air.

In a small moment of clarity, you suddenly remembered that Bobbie had joined you both here, and no matter how badly you wanted this, you would never just leave Bobbie here on her own. Luckily for you, when you glanced her way, you saw that she was talking to her own conquest for the night. When she caught you looking at her, she sent you a reassuring smile and a teasing wink, telling you it was okay for you to leave. That wink also told you that Bobbie was going to be insufferable about this for the next few weeks, she would probably make you thank her and you’d probably lose count of the many ‘I told you so’s.

This little exchange between Bobbie and you seemed to fuel Joanne’s jealousy even more. She pulled you impossibly closer to her and when you looked back at her, she looked ready to pounce on you right then and there.

The way she was looking at you told you that you would be unwinding differently than you had expected tonight, but this time you didn’t mind. You leaned in closer and whispered in her ear.

“Take me out of here and I’m all yours.”

That’s all it took for her to drag you out of the club and into a cab. The drive to your apartment was excruciating, it seemed to last twice as long as it normally did, and you needed Joanne out of that little dress now. You decided to tease her a little, to pass the time, whispering sweet promises of how you planned to thank your saviour once you got back to your apartment, into her ear.

Your teasing seemed to work because her hand possessively gripped your thigh and it didn’t leave its place for the rest of the drive, her pointer finger drawing random shapes on your inner thigh as she undressed you with her eyes.

By the time you finally made it inside your apartment, you (and your panties) were a mess. Apparently you hadn’t been the only impatient one though, because the second you had closed the door, Joanne pushed you against it and kissed you, hard. The kiss was passionate, hungry and possessive, her hands were on your waist and kept you pinned against the door. You kissed her back with that same intensity, pouring all of your need and want into it, while your hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her even closer as you deepened the kiss.

You pulled back when you needed to breathe, which caused Joanne to whine, she clearly hadn’t been ready to part with your lips just yet. Before you could even begin to tease her about it, her lips were on the side of your neck, making you moan and completely forget what you had planned to tease her about. Your hands moved to her ass, giving it a soft squeeze, earning you a needy moan against your neck. She kissed, sucked, and bit any skin she could reach and you tilted your head to give her more space. She was definitely leaving marks and that only made you wetter, you really were a sucker for this possessive side of hers.

You reluctantly pushed her off, which elicited another whine from her, as she looked up at you with needy and hungry eyes. You didn’t give her the chance to complain as you whispered into her ear.

“Let’s take this to my bedroom, my bed is far more comfortable than this door.”

You chuckled softly while looking into her desire filled eyes. Joanne didn’t need to be told twice and grabbed your wrist, dragging you into your bedroom, which was still littered with her and Bobbie’s stuff from getting ready earlier tonight, neither of you could bring yourself to care though.

The second you made it into your bedroom your lips were back on Joanne’s, you quickly stepped out of your shoes while your hands found the zipper of Joanne’s dress. You pulled back a little, resting your forehead against hers.

“Can I take this off?”

Your breathing came out ragged and your voice betrayed how badly you wanted the other woman, who didn’t seem too pleased at no longer having your lips on her.

“Yes.”

Joanne almost whined the word, like she was pleading you to take it off. She clearly needed and wanted this just as much as you did and that gave you a boost of confidence.

You guided her to step out of her heels before undoing the zipper at the back of her dress, while you kissed her neck. Now it was your turn to leave your marks and you didn’t plan to stop at her neck. Her needy moans filled your ears and as you slid her dress down her figure, your mouth found her right collarbone, peppering it with soft kisses before beginning to suck and bite at the skin, leaving hickeys in your wake.

You gave the left collarbone the exact same treatment while guiding her back to your bed. Joanne’s moans and whines spurred you on as you carefully pushed her down on the bed, pulling back a little so you could take a proper look at her.

Your own desire grew as you took in the beautiful sight in front of you. Joanne sprawled out on your bed in nothing but her lace black set. Her eyes, clouded with need, looked up at you expectantly. You could see the slightest sliver of self consciousness in them, so you immediately voiced your thoughts, letting Joanne know just how stunning you thought she was.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon.”

You whispered reverently, the truth behind your words clear in the way you looked at her, like she was a precious constellation and you wanted to study every single star. You quickly got rid of your dress and crawled on top of her, you didn’t miss how her eyes studied you, as if she was trying to mesmerize every single dip and curve on display.

You kissed her passionately, there was still hunger and need in your kiss, but they were now coated with something softer, gentler, something deeper than simply lust. Your tongue asked for entrance by softly and slowly swiping over Joanne’s bottom lip. She eagerly obliged your request and welcomed your tongue into her mouth, stroking it with her own. The sound of your moans got silenced against each other's lips as you explored Joanne’s mouth.

Your hands began to explore her body, tracing her sides before cupping her breasts, while your knee found its place in between her legs. You pressed it against the damp cloth of her black panties, which made Joanne whine against your mouth as she instinctively began to grind against your knee.

Joanne pulled back, in desperate need of air, while you unclasped her bra, throwing it to the other side of the room, as if the piece of fabric had personally offended you by simply existing. You began kissing her neck once more before making your way down to her collarbone, leaving soft kisses on the marks you had left earlier. You pulled back for a second, wanting to admire the view once more. A soft moan left your lips as you took in how stunning she looked with your marks littered all over her, before you continued your descent.

Your mouth found its way to her boob, lavishing it with soft kisses at first, then deciding to tease the woman underneath you by circling her nipple with your tongue. Your hand gave her other boob similar attention, kneading it softly, before circling her nipple with your fingers, pinching it when it hardened.

Joanne’s moans grew in volume and frequency, your name tumbled freely from her lips, while she continued to grind herself against your knee. Her hands tangled in your hair, pushing you impossibly closer to her. Your lips made their way to her other boob, leaving a small mark in the valley between her boobs as you muttered how incredibly hot she looked like this.

Your lips never got to finish their journey though, because Joanne softly tugged your hair, pulling you away from her and eliciting a whine from you. You looked up at her, searching her eyes, trying to figure out if you’d made her uncomfortable or if she was regretting this. As you were about to ask if she wanted to stop, she admitted ever so softly.

“I’ve never been with a woman before.”

Her voice came out uncharacteristically shy and small, she worried her lip between her teeth and she had trouble maintaining eye contact.

“Do you want to stop?”

You asked softly, not an ounce of judgment or annoyance in your voice. You looked at her with nothing but kindness and a little bit of worry as you gave her a reassuring smile. She shook her head before answering.

“No..I want this… I really do.. I.. I just don’t want to disappoint...”

Your heart ached as you watched the usually confident woman look so fragile. You gently brushed some hair out of her face, looking at her with all the feelings that had been brewing beneath the surface all these months clearly displayed on your face.

“Joanne, you could never disappoint me because I don’t expect anything from you. I simply want to feel you, taste you and have you near me. All I want is to show you just how beautiful I think you are.”

Joanne looked at you with those mesmerising brown eyes filled with gratitude and lust, the worry slowly ebbing away from her features, yet there was still a bit of nervousness present.

“Do you want me to slow down?”

You asked softly, wanting to make sure that you made Joanne’s first time as memorable and as comfortable for her as you possibly could. Your question was met with a chuckle and her answer once again carried that teasing tone, indicating Joanne was starting to feel comfortable once again.

“Baby, if you go any slower I think I may go mad with need.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, you knew Joanne could be a little impatient but you had barely even started yet and she was already complaining about your pace.

“Tell me what you want.”

Your voice came out hoarse and the desire in it was very poorly hidden as your eyes roamed her body, yet there was also a gentleness in your tone that portrayed the feelings you had for her.

“I need your mouth on me.”

Joanne’s words came out hoarse and breathy, her previous faux-confidence seemed to have been replaced with a more real self assuredness, as her bossy side came out once again. Her words were accompanied by a little tug at your hair, as if to make her words even more clear, she was definitely getting comfortable and you loved it.

You had half the mind to make her say please, not wanting to give in too easily, but you knew Joanne too well and you knew how difficult opening up like that must have been for her, so you decided against it and instead complied with her request.

You picked up where you had left off and began to pepper the previously neglected boob with soft kisses, before giving it the same treatment as the other. Your tongue circled her nipple, only this time when the bud hardened, you gently sucked it into your mouth, which caused Joanne to groan loudly. Your hand copied what you had done earlier to her other breast, massaging it gently and pinching her nipple when it hardened.

Once you were satisfied and certain that her boobs had gotten the attention they deserved, you kissed your way down to her belly, alternating between soft kisses and sucking and biting at the skin available to you, leaving a trail of marks before lavishing her stomach with kisses, leaving similar marks all over it.

Your work was rewarded with Joanne moaning loudly and whining your name, your only mission was to draw out as many of those beautiful sounds as you could. Your underwear was ruined, there was nothing on this earth that turned you on more than seeing Joanne like this while she moaned your name.

You continued traveling your way down, placing a soft kiss on top of her clothed mound before kissing her inner thigh. Joanne’s frustrated groan fuelled your desire to tease her even more. So you took your time exploring every inch of her inner thigh with your mouth and tongue before giving the other side the same treatment.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

She basically growled, her frustration clear in her voice and in the way her body tensed underneath you. If you had any more patience left in you, you’d make her wait just a little bit longer, but you could smell Joanne’s desire because of how close you were to her soaked underwear and every fiber of your being needed to taste her.

You pressed the gentlest of kisses on her clothed center before looking up at her with the most innocent look you could muster.

“I’m savouring the way you feel, sound and look, you should never rush when you’re working with art.”

For the second time that night you managed to fluster Joanne, but there was no time to dwell on your little victory, because when you looked down you could see just how wet she was and you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Lift up your hips for me, love.”

You whispered with a low and raspy voice, the command gentle yet firm as you carefully tugged at her panties.

Joanne did as you asked and you pulled her panties down her legs, which caused her to gasp, as the air hit her soaked cunt. Once she had been freed from her panties, and they too had been tossed across the room, you took a moment to admire the sight in front of you. You licked your lips, Joanne was dripping wet and it was all because of you.

Your hands softly stroked her thighs as you pressed a gentle kiss against her folds, holding back a moan at her scent and taste. Joanne whined your name and you couldn’t hold back any longer, your tongue darted out and you licked in between her folds, collecting all the wetness there.

“Fuck, you taste so good.”

You moaned against her while your hands wrapped around her thighs so you could pull her closer. Joanne’s hips bucked up against you, the sounds and pleas that spilled from her mouth made you dizzy with desire.

Your tongue slowly drew circles around her clit while you looked up at her, taking in every little reaction and committing it to memory. Before she could complain about your pace you began to gently suck on her clit, occasionally flicking it with your tongue.

You could feel her thighs tense around your head, her breathing became more ragged and her moans came in rapid succession. With one last flick you abandoned her clit and licked your way back down her folds before pushing your tongue inside her, this earned you a guttural moan and a particularly desperate whine.

You curled your tongue inside her and began exploring every part of her, any self restraint you had had earlier, had gone completely as your tongue’s movements picked up in pace and intensity. Your hands pulled her down on you even harder, needing her as close to you as possible while you ate her out like you had been starving and she was the first meal you’d had in weeks.

Joanne’s moans increased in pitch, sound and frequency, the only coherent thing that tumbled from her lips was your name as she ground down against your face erratically. Her hands grabbed the sheets beneath her so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her walls clenched around your tongue and her thighs began to shake. You could tell she was close, so your mouth continued its ministrations while one of your hands let go of her thighs so your thumb could circle her neglected clit.

And that toppled her over the edge, she came screaming your name, drenching your tongue and chin in her cum, making you moan at her taste. You continued to gently circle her clit while slowly moving your tongue inside her, fucking Joanne through her orgasm.

Once her breathing calmed down a little you stopped circling her clit and licked up every bit of cum, not wanting to waste a drop.

“Baby… sensitive…”

Joanne whined, still out of breath. After pressing one last gentle kiss against her pussy and inner thighs, you began kissing your way back up again. You only got up to Joanne’s belly before she tangled her hands into your hair and pulled you up to kiss her properly. She moaned against your mouth when she tasted herself on your lips, which caused you to chuckle.

“Told you, you taste good.”

Your voice was light and teasing as you mumbled the words against her lips before pulling back a little, just in time to see Joanne roll her eyes at you. You pushed yourself off the bed and made your way to the bathroom but stopped when you heard Joanne’s hoarse voice.

“Where are you going?”

Your lips twitched into a smile when you heard the neediness in her voice, she wanted you close to her and you had to admit that that felt good.

“Just going to grab a towel, I’ll be right back.”

You sent her a reassuring smile before quickly disappearing into the bathroom, grabbing a soft towel, and quickly making your way back to the stunning woman on your bed.

“Open your legs for me, darling.”

You looked up at her expectantly and she only now seemed to realise what was going on. Joanne did as you asked and spread her legs for you. You gently and carefully cleaned up the mess that you had left behind between her legs. She whined softly, still sensitive from earlier and you sent her an apologetic smile.

Once you were finished you discarded the towel and crawled back into bed with Joanne, who instantly clung to you as you laid down next to her. You hadn’t thought she would be the clingy type, but you certainly didn’t mind. You pulled the covers over both of you, her arms wrapped around your waist as she laid her head on your shoulder.

“Do you want me to..?”

Her voice was filled with uncertainty as she asked the question, unable to finish the sentence, clearly unsure on what to do in this situation. You shook your head, looking down at her before gently cupping her cheek and making her look up at you. Your voice was tender and caring as you spoke to her.

“Tonight was all about you, I had to thank my knight in shining armour, remember? Besides there is nothing more satisfying to me than getting to watch you unravel beneath me like that.”

For the third time tonight, Joanne blushed, this must be a record, you thought. A smile made its way onto her face, she seemed pleased with your answer.

“Do you want an old shirt of mine to sleep in? I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Joanne thought for a minute as she pulled you closer, turning her head to place a soft kiss against your shoulder, before looking up at you once more.

“I’m okay, I’ve got my personal heater… although this has got to go… it’s just blatantly unfair.”

She said while her pointer finger hooked under the front of your bra and tugged at it ever so slightly. She looked up at you with the cutest puppy eyes you had ever seen, as if you could ever say no to her.

It was your time to roll your eyes as you sat up a little to get rid of your bra. Joanne unashamedly ogled your chest as you discarded your bra.

“Enjoying the view?”

You teased her, your voice playful but she made no effort to look you in the eyes as she nodded before pulling you back down next to her. You pulled her closer to you and she rested her head on your boobs while her arms wrapped around your waist. You gently pressed a kiss to the top of her head while you played with her hair.

You laid there for a moment, in complete silence, simply enjoying each other’s warmth and company. You were about to speak up and ask her if she needed anything else, when you heard soft snores tumbling from her lips.

You chuckled softly and admired her sleeping form for a while. You stopped playing with her hair, your hand found its place on her hip and you closed your eyes. You fell asleep while being held by Joanne as you listened to her deep breathing and snores. Despite the ache between your legs, it was the best sleep you had had in… well ever…actually.

You groaned when the light that streamed in through your window, and past your half closed curtains, woke you up. Still half asleep you felt around for Joanne, you could no longer feel her arms around you, so you expected her to have moved away from you in her sleep. When you found nothing but an empty, cold spot next to you, you reluctantly opened your eyes. You looked around the room but there was no trace of Joanne, it was as if she had never even been there. You shot out of bed and quickly threw on an old t-shirt.

“Joanne?!”

You yelled out into the apartment as you walked out of your bedroom, your voice a little unsteady as your negative thoughts began to plague you, but you received no answer. You walked into the kitchen, past the empty living room, hoping to find her there, making some coffee for herself, but you had no such luck.

No.. surely she wouldn’t have just disappeared without saying anything.. not after last night. You must have missed a note or something in your bedroom. You walked back to your bedroom and looked everywhere but couldn’t find anything. There was no note that gave you any reason or explanation as to why you had woken up alone. Your thoughts began to spiral as you searched for your phone, she must have left you a text, maybe she had gone out to grab some breakfast for the both of you and didn’t want to wake you up.

When you finally found your phone there was not a single text from Joanne and that’s when reality hit you, she had left, just like that, like you had been some sort of one night stand that she regretted the morning after and wanted to leave behind as soon as possible.

No.. no she wouldn’t… any minute now she was going to walk into your apartment and explain why you had woken up in an empty bed…she had to.

You sat down on your bed and waited.. and waited… and waited… you weren’t sure for how long, it felt like an eternity, and with every agonising minute that passed, your hope shrank. After a while it became clear to you that she wouldn’t be walking through that door. You tried to be hopeful.. maybe she had a good reason.. but every reason you found to explain this sudden disappearance, was shut down by a solution in which she could have easily let you know why she wasn’t currently in your bed.

You stared down at your phone.. should you text her? And say what exactly? It was obvious that she didn’t want to talk to you… she had disappeared without as much as leaving you a note or a text… if that wasn’t a clear sign that she wanted to be left alone, then you didn’t know what was.

You crawled back into bed, you couldn’t deal with this right now, so you grabbed your pillow and hugged it tightly as tears streamed down your face. Your heart felt like it had been ripped out of your chest, was consequently smashed into a million pieces, and had then been forcefully pushed back into your chest. This was your own fault, you thought, you shouldn’t have assumed that this meant anything to Joanne… maybe this was just all part of that stupid game of yours. As you cried yourself back to sleep, the only thought that plagued your mind was that you now finally understood the phrase ‘play stupid games, win stupid prizes’.

[thewritingfairy]

Hi! I know you've already made a list of all your favorite authors, but I was wondering which writers are your topmost picks there (series-wise) and why?

‎‧₊˚✧[My favourite tumblr and book authors]✧˚₊‧

Mentioned: 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 Author's that I love

People want to know my reading opinions~ but as you mentioned I have done this before so I will explain more about my choices then and be more specific in some cases but also leave out some as they don't always have series. I will also add my favourite book series :3 (ofc first it will be full with batfam tag writers.

@acid-ixx - again & again

Reads like a novel (like please teach me how to write so much) and is male reader friendly, I love this for my ‘I do not want gender’ moments and for the simple fact that it's so well written that I could imagine anyone in the Reader's position. Well not everyone but that's because of a few personality quirks, so that's very specific.

@rizzanon - Undoing Fate

I wanted to kiss the screen the first time I read this series. I loved how strong yet well written the Reader is, they are strong but still traumatised as fuck and I love that. I love seeing different trauma responses and how other people write those :3

@nikovraskol - Crackbaby

This story makes me anxious, ready to punch someone and I do not like violence, it makes my skin crawl and completely pulls me into being the Reader. Because I can sort of relate to this Reader with how they react to certain things. Love reading this story when my health is kicking my ass more than thinking of my future.

@mimiiiiiiiiisstuff  - i bet on losing dogs

I will be kicking my feet in happiness as I read this every single time. I love me a reader that knows their worth, for them to have meta powers and to be able to seduce. My god, I love it when a character is like that. It can bring me to my knees /j

‎‧₊˚✧

Now for books!!!

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn

begging on my knees for physical copies to come to my local bookstore. Please, I am barely in the first book and this is already one of my favs, I am reading this book slowly as I am currently grieving (I grief yearly near June).

The Poppy War - R.F Kuang

Love this book and author but couldn't finish it, The Poppy Wars is incredibly dark and heavy. It did trigger my fight or flight response to an extent that I mainly try to read it when I'm with someone I trust so that my PTSD is less active. But the story telling, oh my god, I love it. I love the themes of propaganda, classism and how you can learn from it. Because I always try to learn from my books, and I know that when I can finish this book I will love this series with everything.

I have this as an e-book and I just found out the physical books are coming to my home country, so if it will be translated I am buying the physical copies because I am curious how it will translate.

The Hurricane wars - Thea Guanzon

This book I love it, it is a series but it isn't my favourite. More like I would re-read it, I'm having a rough time going through it because of the writing style it's just not as engaging as I thought it would be but that might be because I am in a lot of pain currently and it makes it a bit more difficult to focus and write.

The fact that it's a physical copy does help me with reading it more but books are currently too heavy for me (my chronic pain is just being a bitch and I hold my books with my left hand--)

The hunger games - Suzanne Collins

Do I even have to say anything? The themes are actual and important, the writing is incredible and honestly the books are better and more diverse than the movies. Sue me, but it's true. I do love the casting of Ballad of the Songbirds and Snakes and Sunrise on the Reaping.

The first movies are good as well but I don't really feel like they do the books complete justice. But for the rest amazing.

[ivorsblocksleeve]

the mcsm fandom fuckin sucks dude

As a long time member of the furry, danganronpa, and BNHA fandom im not the type of person who likes to generalize entire fandoms based off of experiences i hear about or have with other people in said fandoms. but the MCSM fandom is such a filthy stain on the internet and so many people in the community have gotten WAY out of hand. the constant racism and whitewashing of characters. people publicly talking about NSFW topics in numerous discord servers that have children in them, sometimes with people under 13 years old. the ridiculous amount of drama surrounding character headcanons among other things. its RIDICULOUS

im a black guy. i can care less about the "issue of blackwashing", it does not exist and never has existed. i care a LOT about the whitewashing in this community. there are multiple jesse skins for a reason, to represent a ton of different peoples races! red suspenders jesse is literally WHITE! if you want to draw white jesse draw HIM! why are people whitewashing the other jesse skins? why are people whitewashing characters like radar, stella, olivia, etc?? MCSM as a game has blessed its community with a wide range of characters of different ethnicities and races (even if not directly stated) and none of them are stereotyped, theyre all incredibly well written and have great characterizations but unappreciative morons are choosing to whitewash the shit out of them :/. the characters are so easy to colorpick. theyre minecraft characters. literally pixels. coloring people of different skin colors is NOT a difficult thing. have some common sense and use references properly.

im an adult who likes adult things. as an adult i understand boundaries and that talking to minors about sexual headcanons is NOT a good thing! woah! some of you dont understand how important it is to tag certain shit on different sites correctly or how to keep conversations about NSFW topics away from people who are WAY younger than you. vague jokes are one thing but time after time ive either heard or seen myself that grown ass people are describing explicitly sexual things with minors. gross much???? and PUBLICLY of all things. its one thing to have your own friend group or whatever, its fine to discuss things in private so long as its with someone in your fucking age range but JESUS CHRIST! MCSM discord servers have become BREEDING GROUNDS for these kinds of adult NSFW discussions with minors and it only creates a domino effect where they too start sharing that in OTHER MCSM servers with OTHER minors. ITS GROSS!!

(whole paragraph above also applies to headcanons and aus that are also potentially triggering. jesus christ some things should just be kept in private convos on the internet)

and my god the DRAMA over characters its insane. its completely fine to dislike certain headcanons and to have certain opinions on them. you can publicly voice your opinions in a RESPECTFUL manner. it really is not hard.?? at all. there are a ton of headcanons i hate personally, i rant about them in private and if i ever feel like voicing about them in public ill say it in a respectful manner. if someone dislikes a headcanon you like it is not a personal attack on your entire being. relax dude. i will always agree with the statement that fiction affects reality but my god they are just FICTIONAL CHARACTERS that you do not know personally and you do NOT need to go on a rampage and witch-hunt people because people say things like "i think xyz character has a different body type!" or "i think xyz character is a certain sexuality!". this especially applies to age headcanons. ages are NOT CANON, sure there are characters that appear to be older than others but ages are always up for speculation. not everyone is going to agree with your "minor coded" headcanons, dont attack and throw proshipper/pedo accusations on people who dont? id go into the infantilization of the characters who get this kinda treatment but different problem different day. point is, headcanons are headcanons and sending swarms of people after people who disagree with them is DUMB and STUPID and NOT NICE! stop doing that

in general this fandom harbors horrible mindsets and even more horrible people who i will not name and frankly its getting very frustrating seeing how the people in this fandom treat each other. have some respect for others and also yourselves. fix up your behaviors, dont make your bad attitudes everyones problem, and spend some time off the internet. have a good day yall

[diorsluv]

feather , part 3

“ i’m your dream come true ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, lhughes_06 and 103,016 others

yourusername quinn kept provoking me at the ducks @ nucks game and started throwing a bitch fit because i was rooting for MY BROTHER’S TEAM so here’s to all the quinn girls ❤️❤️ (ft. jacky poo poo bear and trev because he played so well tn)

and just so you know i like the habs better 🙄

tagged: _quinnhughes, trevorzegras

view all comments

jackhughes I’VE NEVER SEEN THE MIDDLE PHOTO BEFORE

→ yourusername that’s bc i just made it babes

→ jackhughes all hail mini drizz, our graphic designer lord and savior 🙏

jamie.drysdale oh my god

_quinnhughes OH MY GOD

→ yourusername YEAH WHAT ARE U GONNA DO ABOUT IT NOW HUH

→ colecaufield don’t provoke him 😧

username51 SOULJA BOYYYY TELL EM

→ yourusername BABY YOU KNOW THAT I MISS YOU

lhughes_06 WHERE DID YOU GET THAT PHOTO OF HIM WHEN WE WERE KIDS

→ yourusername a magician never tells her secrets 🫢

→ lhughes_06 oh god i’m next aren’t i

→ yourusername idkkk 😈😈😈

trevorzegras I MADE IT ON THE MAIN

→ yourusername yes you did!

username28 the quinner album edit???

username3 we quinn girls thank you 🙏

username92 the huggy bear behind the scenes photos 🤧

_quinnhughes

liked by jamie.drysdale, markestapa, adamfantilli and 39,738 others

_quinnhughes she’s literally climbing something in half these photos

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername HAH YOU HAVE LESS PHOTOS THAN ME AND THEY’RE NOT EVEN THAT BAD EITHER

→ _quinnhughes YOU MAKE IT DIFFICULT TO TAKE BAD PHOTOS OF YOU

→ yourusername that’s a compliment dumbass

luca.fantilli disclaimer: NEVER try to bring her to top golf or she will accidentally hit you with a golf ball

→ yourusername YOU’RE SPREADING RUMORS ABOUT ME WTFFF 😟

→ rutgermcgroarty I’M A WITNESS

→ yourusername YOU WEREN’T EVEN THERE

username20 it’s impossible to take bad photos of this woman confirmed

jackhughes mom said to “stop terrorizing luke’s poor girl”

→ lhughes_06 SHE SAID “stop terrorizing THAT poor girl”

→ yourusername woah there slow your roll bud i’m not anyone’s girl 😐

→ _quinnhughes oh my god she literally did it to me first

trevorzegras what the shit is going on

→ _quinnhughes what the hell is “what the shit”

username40 I WAS AT THE STORE AND I SAW QUINN POINTING THAT WATER GUN AT HER HEAD WHATTTT

markestapa i think you should start putting a leash on her

→ yourusername nonono i think we’re good (don’t give them ideas)

→ edwards.73 lil drizzy as a leash kid???

→ yourusername STOP IT WITH THE LIL DRIZZY ALREADY

next chapter notes ) so she’s a short one but i liked it a lotttt i’m probably gonna go inactive for finals week (i know it’s horrible 😥) BUT I WILL BE BACK AND GREATER THAN EVER

[seaglassmelody]

A Word With Friends!

Hello hello! I am your host for this week's version of @hedwigoprah's lovely game! I was stuck between a few words for this week, but I picked one that was a little less sensory to mix things up!

Rules: Use the challenge word to write a sentence or scene and then tag a few friends. Happy writing! 

This week's word is: Sanguine

Definition (Adjective): optimistic or positive, especially in an apparently bad or difficult situation. OR Definition (noun): a blood-red color

My piece is under the cut!

----

Bellara was anxious. So terribly terribly anxious.

Cyrian wanted to talk.

Cyrian was always so good at talking. Confident, reassuring, mellow. His reasonable words and calming tone were essential for her as a child, when her brain got too busy and everything was so loud.

And now…

She needed to be good at talking too. She had to make him see, to make him understand. He wasn't helping their people. He was hurting them.

Hurting her.

"Bel?"

Bellara jumped, knocked out of her spinning thoughts by Rook's quiet call.

"I-I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Rook smiled sympathetically. "Just asking if you were ok."

"Oh. Well." Bellara chewed her lower lip. "Is it ok if I say no?"

Rook gently grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop.

They couldn't stop yet. Cyrian was waiting. In the clearing up the hill.

Waiting for her.

"Bellara, will you breathe with me for a few seconds?"

"Rook, we can't-"

"Cyrian will wait for you. If he's anything like you've described, he'll wait as long as he has to." Rook was calm, relaxed. Her pink eyes were kind and understanding. "He's your brother. He wouldn't be asking to talk if he didn't care. He still loves you."

Rook was always like this, somehow, in the face of inescapable pain and high risk of failure. Bellara wasn't sure how she did it. They've faced down a darkspawn horde, an archdemon, blighted dragons, two gods - their gods - and every step of the way Rook has held them together with a kind smile and a sanguine attitude.

"I…still love him too." Bellara admitted quietly, hugging her arms around herself. "But what if he won't listen? What if I say it wrong and he leaves? What if I…" She trailed off. Every time they talked about this, she was reminded of what he might make her do to him if he didn't stop. Didn't turn away from Anaris.

And every time she hid away from that reality. She couldn't face it. She didn't want to think about it.

This had to go well.

"He will listen, and you won't say it wrong." Rook rubbed Bellara's shoulder reassuringly. "The Cyrian you knew is still there. Even if…" Rook paused, her nose wrinkling in that way it did when she was really thinking things over, "If he still needs time, that's fine. Making him question is still progress. You're opening the exit door. It's still his job to walk through it."

"And if he doesn't…?" Bellara's voice was weak. She hated how small the question made her feel. She hated that she was leaning so heavily on Rook to relieve her of this burden.

Rook's grip tightened on her upper arm. "You won't have to deal with it alone. If it really came down to it…" Rook took a deep breath and released it slowly. "You won't have to face it by yourself. We're with you, every step of the way."

So Rook wouldn't say it either. But the look on their face…

Bellara knew Rook would do it for her in a heartbeat, if it meant she wouldn't have to suffer.

But she wouldn't ask for that. She couldn't.

Not yet.

Instead, she took a deep breath, trying to match Rook's relaxed, even breathing.

"All right. I…I think I can focus now. I can do this." She gave Rook a shaky smile. "Let's go."

Rook nodded firmly, giving her arm one more gentle squeeze before letting go.

"Let's go get your brother back."

----

Tagging to start: @strugglinggranola @serensama @tkwritesdumbassassins @thedissonantverses @tacoteddy22 @thecraftybaroness @himluv @notyourmamasdeerbat @bubblecat-co @mythals-whore @operative-arrow @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @seaglassmelody @sidneysussex @biowaredisasterbisexual @woundedsoul12 @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @jenn2d2 but please tag me if you do it! I'd love to see and share! No pressure, I know everyone worked really hard on Davrin week and made some really awesome stuff :D