#i can't wait to go ID more trees

[balkanradfem]

So, remember a few posts ago when I made up a game to go outside and identify every tree I see, but I had to give it up because it's February? And nothing has leaves? I remembered later this doesn't apply to evergreens! Evergreens are still out there, and actually much more easy to point out, now that everything else is bare.

So. This is the knowledge I gathered from various sources from the internet!

Pines have long needles and they grow together in bunches, their silhouette is rounded at the edges, distinct and easy to recognize.

Spruce's branches are always pointed up, and grow upwards. Their needles grow in all directions out of the branches. Their needles also have 4 sides to them, and are easy to roll between fingers.

Fir's needles grow only to the left and right, and leave the middle of the branch exposed. The back of the needles have 2 white lines. Their lower branches point down.

Yew's needles are soft to touch, their color is more vibrant than the other evergreens, they grow red berries on them. Their needles also only grow from the sides, and not in the middle. Yew is the poisonous one that must not be mistaken for the rest!

With this info in my mind, I set off! This is the first evergreen tree I found, right in front of the building. I never tried to figure out what it was before.

It looks majestic. What I can see here, is needles growing in every direction from the little tip I took off, so I decided it has to be spruce.

The next tree I noticed was in someone's backyard, but I wouldn't let that deter me! It was big and noticeable from far away! So. I sneaked in to take a picture:

Isn't it beautiful? This one also has needles growing from all directions, so it has to be another spruce. But, this one also has some tiny cones growing? I noted that as interesting, and moved on to the next.

Then I saw these two in people's backyard:

And I thought, well what are these? At first I thought, cypress, but these are obviously two different things, and they seem to be bushes at that, and I didn't research any bush varieties, so I had to let that go for now. If anyone can tell me their names I would love that!

And then I found lots more of similar trees!

They were definitely planted for decoration, and they're planted all together, but some of them have kind of a purple berry (cone?) growing on them, while some don't, and I'm not sure if they're the same species. Though I do think sometimes trees will grow their fruit only from the side that is more exposed to the sun, so it's possible the branches without berries are just underexposed to the light.

So the next several trees I found were spruces, or so it seems. I'm starting to get suspicious, because first, why didn't I know we were in a spruce-supremacy biome, second, why do all of these trees look so different? Look at them:

Look how janky some of them look! That is fun! Is that really a spruce? They all had needles growing in all directions, and the tips of their branches pointing up, but I'm starting to get suspicious and feel like these are different varieties of trees and we just called them all 'spruce' and moved on.

Then I, on purpose, went to the place with pines, where I usually harvest my pine needles for tea. This is, one of the most beautiful pines in the city:

This is not even a good picture of her, this being is divine. She's about the only thing that makes this place livable, every time I see her I'm astounded and filled with awe, she's so gorgeous and lush and perfect? Her shape? The feeling of being closer to heaven when you look at her? She has it all. I don't even know how they made that gorgeous tree grow next to such an ugly building. Anyway.

Close by is a little park made out of pine trees, I was able to find a little pine cone! And here are the pine needles:

These can be eaten, added into meals, they can be made into syrups, tinctures, and they make a very calming tea! You can also weave a basket with them, which I did once! Blessed source of life.

Spruce and Fir needles are also edible and medicinal, but I've never tried them, so I'm not gonna talk about that yet. But here's whats NOT edible. The deadly yew tree:

She's so soft to touch, it's almost impossible not to recognize. If you touch an evergreen and it's super soft and pliable, do not eat it! She's also beautiful and vibrant with her colors, I took pictures of this tree before, just because it was so pretty. You can see the needles also grow only on the sides, and not in every direction like the spruce.

And then, I noticed this tree from the road, and it was Different from all of the others. Firstly, it was growing new shoots, which most of the others were not into. Second, it looked super lush and healthy. I couldn't back out further to take a better picture because of the cars behind me, but I grabbed a little shoot, and checked it.

And see these needles how they're only growing to the sides, and not from the middle? And when you turn the needles on the other side, I know you can't see it, but there were 2 white lines on them! I've found a Fir!

That was the first, and the only fir I've found. I was so happy, relieved, and thrilled to find, all 4 evergreen species in walking distance of my residence. I also was pleased to know that my methods of recognition were true, firs really do have white lines on the underside of needles. Who knew!

Now, these are not all of the trees I've found, but the rest I found only gave me more questions than answers. I've found some baby spruces that looked completely different, like this:

And while I do find these adorable, I wanna know why are they so different? Is it because they're tiny? They look more lush and healthy, is it because they're cared for or they're different, imported species? Why is that last tree in the middle of cone production, while the other spruces are after different businesses? If this is a matter of different varieties then I'm personally offended nobody explained this to me.

Also, I found this bush? And it smelled? Incredible??

The scent of this was thousandfold the power of any other plant. Smelling this transported me into a thousand old forest and underground. After touching this, my entire hand smelled like it for the rest of my trip, I could smell nothing else. It was pine-like but also plant like, and deeper, stronger, like I was smelling not the ends of the plant but the middle of a tree, the center, the roots and the soil. I took a bit of it home to smell. I think it will do me good. Further research revealed that this is a juniper bush, well known for its intense and overpowering scent!

I'm happy to report that this tree ID mission has cured my anxiety for the day, made me feel like a sneaky little secret scientist, gave me special inside knowledge of the evergreen tree society around me and had me meet some awesome trees! I also found some I didn't even know were growing close to me. I looked into making the syrup from the needles, but found out it required outrageous amount of sugar, so I gave up on it. I'm going to use little branches and shoots I took to make tea out of all of the edible plants instead.

[konigbabe]

like real people do

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x fem!teacher!reader | single dad AU

Word count: 5.8k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; fluff; eventual smut; p-in-v; slice of life; gendered female reader; gendered female anatomy; original kid Kennedy character

Summary: He's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit; yet, he's your student's father. Handsome. Confident. Alluring. But off limits–at least he should be.

a/n: Inspired by @yeyinde’s ask. Also, canon ID!Leon is around 29 but Leon in this '"universe" is aged up to be in his 30s (age won't be specified but I imagine him to be in his mid-to-late 30s).

divider by @benkeibear [source]

series masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man hard to resist; his confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily– “So? It’s just dinner.”

The innocence of children always manages to brighten up even the darkest of days, their smiles and eagerness to learn contagious; filling your heart with positivity. It's a feeling that's hard to come by as an adult; life's challenges tend to chip away at your soul and slowly rob you of that childhood magic.

As the clock strikes five and your shift comes to an end, the school falls into an eerie silence. A lingering sense of relief washes over you when leaving the building; you've done your part in shaping young minds.

Walking out the front door, the warmth of the sun caresses your skin, its rays sliding around your bare arms like silk.

Twisting the key in the lock, your eyes catch a glimpse of slight movement from the corner of your vision. Turning your head, you see a little girl perched on the concrete steps below, her delicate features illuminated by the warm glow of the sun.

Her hair, a cascade of light brown waves, frames her chubby cheeks and the crown of her head is adorned with blonde highlights that shimmer like golden threads.

She turns to you when you address her, slowly stepping down to her level.

"What are you still doing here," you sit down, her small backpack creating a wall between your bodies.

As you sit side by side with the little girl, basking in the comforting embrace of the sunlight, she kicks her legs up; eyes up front, both of you watch the cars pass by on the street.

The Washington Spring air’s filled with the sweet scent of blooming cherry blossoms, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles through the trees. The distant sounds of children playing in a nearby park mingle with the honking of cars and the chirping of birds, creating a symphony of noise that signifies the arrival of spring in the bustling city.

"Waiting for daddy," she says with a hint of excitement in her voice.

The little girl looks up at you, her eyes full of wonder and innocence. You can't help but wonder about the mysterious Mr Kennedy and his absence; an enigma surrounding his name.

Like a forgotten toy left on the shelf, the girl's father remains absent from any involvement in her education. Despite several months passing since her admission to your class, there has been no sign of him. No parent-teacher meetings, no Father's Day celebration, nothing.

An enigma.

"Speaking of," your voice trails off for a moment, "How’s your daddy doing?" you question her. You shouldn’t; it goes beyond your job description to put a kid in situations like these. But still–

Her eyes, a vivid shade of cerulean, sparkle like sunlit water as she gazes at you; smile wide upon the mention of her father, the young kid toys with the straps on her bag.

"He’s busy."

A pang of understanding pinches your heart.

–his presence (or rather the absurd lack of it) keeps gnawing at your brain.

"He fights monsters," the girl adds after a moment of silence; her tone more serious. It's as if she's describing a mythical hero, fighting off beasts in some far-off land.

"He seems to be busy quite a lot," you smile to ease the topic; well aware that the girl, as bright as she is, surely catches on as you keep asking the same question every week, "is your mom coming to the parent–teacher meeting?"

The girl shakes her head before she speaks, "I don’t know my mom."

Oh.

You know you shouldn’t push more; well aware of the unprofessionalism you’re displaying.

"The woman who picks you up–"

"–aunt Claire," the kid corrects you, "I’m sorry for interrupting, miss teacher."

You smile, trying to put her at ease. It's clear that she's been brought up with good manners.

Lost in how to answer her, you almost don't hear the sound of a car approaching. The girl jumps up, her face alight with excitement. A low rumble reverberates through the air as a sleek black SUV glides up to the curb, its shiny exterior reflecting the warm rays of the sun.

The tinted windows obscure the view inside the car, adding an air of mystery to the vehicle. As the car comes to a stop, the quiet hum of the engine fades to a gentle purr, and the driver's door swings open.

The girl grabs her backpack at the same time a man steps out of the car; you’re able to only see the light brown hair decorating his head.

"Daddy," the girl yelps in excitement. You stand up, dusting the invisible dust from your jeans.

He stands tall, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of the crisp white shirt, tucked tightly into the blue dress pants. A single button undone on his collar, revealing the curve of his clavicles. The sun glints off his aviator sunglasses, hiding his eyes from view. He approaches the little girl with a warm smile as she runs into her father, you presume; standing still, watching the situation unfold before your eyes.

Lowering himself to her level, he extends his arms, inviting her in. She eagerly accepts, wrapping her little arms around his neck in a welcoming embrace.

"Hey there, pup," you manage to hear his voice; low and soft. Gentle. "Sorry I’m late; got held up by paperwork. Y’know the drill."

The kid chuckles before pulling away, a sound so pure and innocent it brings a smile to your face.

Standing back up, his face turns towards you. You're struck by his imposing presence, the way he commands attention without even trying. His chiseled jawline is dusted with a light stubble, giving him an air of ruggedness. He moves with confidence towards you, one hand enclosed with his daughter’s.

The girl tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, introducing you before he even reaches your standing point–to which he smiles gently.

"Well, nice to meet you," his hand extended in greeting, "I’m Leon Kennedy. Her dad," he nods towards the girl.

"Mr Kennedy," you murmur, taking his hand in yours; noting the callouses on his palm.

As your eyes travel up his arm, they catch sight of a fresh bandage peeking out from under his slightly rolled up sleeve. But it's not until you look up at his face that you see the true extent of his weariness. Small scratches mark his jaw, subtle hues of purple and yellow decorate his cheekbone like a watercolor painting.

It’s clear that he's been through a rough patch. Makes you wander back to the girl’s words–

("He fights monsters.")

–and maybe he does. In some twisted sense.

"I actually wanted to speak with you," you release his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin lingering on your fingertips., "are you free next Tuesday? Around one PM?"

"Am I in trouble," he chuckles; the stretch of his lips exposing a slight scar on his lower lip.

The girl tilts her head, eyes studying you intently. You can't help but notice the slight beauty marks across her neck, the softness of her features, the way she looks up at her father with curiosity.

"Not really; I just need to discuss some matters with you."

"Okay," he responds, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, yet he remains stoic. Posed. "Sure."

"I’ll see you then," you nod and take your leave, but not before stealing a few glances at his back as he turns away from you. It’s impossible not to notice how his broad shoulders strain against the fabric, or how his hair cascades over his forehead; tousled yet somehow perfectly in place.

The weekend flies by, the days blurring together until suddenly it's Tuesday.

Despite his daughter's reassurances from yesterday that he'll be here, the uncertainty of whether he'll actually show up still grips you tightly.

A knock on the open door disturbs your grading.

"Mr Kennedy," you remark upon his arrival. The pen falls onto the desk with a clunk; back straighten, you invite him to sit on the chair prepared for him beforehand.

He’s dressed more casual–the black, expensive looking leather jacket squeaks against the wooden chair as he sits down after a simple "Hello". The faint but distinct aroma of sharp, citrusy notes wafts from his collar; the refreshing and invigorating aroma that catches your attention before your eyes trail to the bandage on his wrist.

Clearly seeing the way your eyes subconsciously linger on the piece of medical tape, Leon puts his other hand over it, shielding your view. Silently focusing your attention back on his eyes; the same blue hues as his daughter’s.

Sitting before you, legs spread apart, the undeniable similarities between him and his daughter are glaringly apparent. The way he holds himself commands respect, his posture erect and confident.

"Mr Kennedy, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you in person."

Fingers interlocking as you lean on your elbows, his gaze following your every movement like a predator stalking its prey; almost as if he’s sizing you up. His eyes watchful.

"Okay," he responds casually, a hint of question behind the simple word.

You clear your throat before continuing. "Your daughter is a remarkable child," a small smile accompanying your words. "She's well-behaved, intelligent, and often surpasses her peers."

Leon nods, lips pressed together.

"Got that from her mother, probably," he remarks. Almost bites back. Jaw tightening.

Leaning back, your fingers drum a quick rhythm against your desk.

"But we’re not here to evaluate your daughter; but you, actually, Mr Kennedy."

Leon’s brows arch up, highlighting the soft surprise that flashes across his face. The subtle shift in his expression does not go unnoticed by you.

"Didn’t know I was being evaluated," his voice trails off.

You nod in acknowledgement, sensing the man's confusion.

"You’re aware of our school assemblies, right?"

His face remains stoic, so you continue.

"Father's Day, parent-teacher meetings, career days, sports day," you list a few, hoping to spark the idea in the man’s mind.

"So," he leans back against the chair, arms folded on his chest.

With an exhale, upon your failed attempt to make him take the hint, you resolve to explaining the school rules to him.

"Our school mandates that the child’s parent or legal guardian be present at at least three of those assemblies per school year. You haven’t been present on any of them, not even last year."

He lifts his chin slightly and raises his eyebrows, eyes fixed on you with a look that suggests he's waiting for more information or an explanation.

"There’s actually a policy within out school that allows teachers to prohibit the child from participating in certain activities or events if a parent is not present–"

"–you’re kidding," Leon interjects, his tone laced with disbelief.

Raising your hand, you stop him from continuing, "and your daughter is a great student, so I don't expect that to happen to her. But with your continuous absence, she's at risk of being excluded from certain activities."

"My job keeps me busy. And I don’t really have a say in it," Leon retorts.

Arms still folded across his chest, his brows furrow in frustration. Defence sets inside his flesh; jaw slightly twitching, his eyes bore into yours.

"Maybe her mother could–"

"–not an option," he stops you before you manage to finish the sentence.

You nod in understanding. Leaving forward, you hope to appeal to Leon’s sense of responsibility a little more.

"In that case; we’re having a sports day this Friday. If you could just show up to support your daughter, I could mark it as you being present."

Leon chuckles, his voice smooth. Looking out the nearby window, he stares into the field right next to the school for a moment, deep in thought. The sunlight filtering through the window casts a warm glow on his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Silence passes before he speaks up, "Wouldn't a dinner suffice instead?"

You clear your throat and try to compose yourself, feeling your heartbeat pick up at the unexpected request. "That's not very appropriate, Mr Kennedy, " you say softly, attempting to hide the fluttering in your chest. "Let's see each other at the soccer match."

"Sure. I’ll see what I can do; is that all?" he asks, head turned to the side. You gaze upon the now exposed wound on his jawline, vaguely resembling a cat’s claw scratch. The bruise colors on his cheek faded over the past few days.

"Yes," you assure him.

"Y’know, this whole thing could’ve been an email."

You smile wryly, "Would you react to that email?"

Looking back at you, there’s a flicker of mischievous dancing in his eyes. Leon's gaze holds yours for a moment longer, and you find yourself drawn to the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes, evidence of his amusement.

"You got me there."

The sun blankets the field in gold, casting elongated shadows of the children as they scamper around in pursuit of the ball. It’s still quite early. The air’s crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and; sound of excited cheers and shouts echo throughout the surrounding area.

It’s comforting. Soothing in a way.

With a group of teachers, you watch the little girl darting across the field, her movements resembling that of a graceful gazelle as she expertly maneuvers the ball. She weaves in and out of the other players, a look of determination etched on her youthful face.

A chorus of her name echoes across the field, drifting like a wispy trail of smoke. The other kids cheer her on as she makes her way towards the goal, her tiny frame seemingly defying the laws of physics with her quick and nimble movements.

A round of applause erupts when the ball meets the back of the net. You watch as the little girl’s teammates rush to congratulate her.

"And who is that," a woman’s voice tears your gaze away from the cheerful moment, hands stopping mid-clasp.

Curious, you look at her. The other teachers already gazing to your right. To the parking lot.

Leaning against the sleek car, its design demanding attention; even from further away, he exudes an air of quiet confidence that's impossible to ignore. Eyes covered by another set of sunglasses, the same leather jacket strains against his folded arms.

Mr Kennedy.

Leon Kennedy.

Something about him always seems to draw attention; to captivate anyone who catches a glimpse of him.

It’s odd. Uncanny–

You should know better than to think in such a way about your student’s father.

–and you wonder if it’s just you who feels that way.

As the group of teachers chatter, a voice pipes up, "Is he someone's father?"

"He has to be," the conversation carries on, "or he wouldn’t be here–"

"–or he’s a creep."

Turning to face the person who said it, you scoff at the teacher before speaking up.

"He’s her dad," You nod in the direction of the girl with a beaming smile on your face, as she energetically waves at Leon. His response, though polite, is less enthusiastic, evident by the restrained movement of his hand.

Escaping the gossip, you follow the white boundary lines of the field towards your target, the soft grass crunching beneath your feet. Leon's eyes are fixed on the field, his sharp features softened by the spring glow.

But he's quick to notice your approach, turning his head ever so slightly to the left. It makes you feel naked as he shamelessly watches you coming closer.

"Mr Kennedy," you greet him.

As you approach, the warm spring breeze ruffles your hair, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mixing with his heady aroma. Posture relaxed, his broad shoulders almost blend with the darkness of the car behind him.

"Just call me Leon."

Eyes back on the field, a tinge of carelessness in his voice, a small tug on his lips. Hesitating momentarily, you put your hands in your pockets.

"I’d rather stick to being professional."

It makes him chuckle; voice rumbling with amusement–

"You’re making me feel old," he teases.

–making your chest tighten. His words brush against your ears like the gentle rustling of leaves on a cool autumn breeze.

The lightness in his tone, the hint of playfulness, stirs something deep within you.

It’s your turn to return the light laugh. The sound mingling with the chirping of birds in the distance.

"It’s good that you’re here. Your daughter seems to appreciate it as well."

Leon's eyes flicker to his daughter, still surrounded by her teammates; a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," he says, the warmth in his voice evident, "she’s been talking about this game for a week."

"She’s really talented in sports."

A cool breeze brushes against your skin as he removes his sunglasses. Eyes reminiscent of the clear waters of a mountain lake–the color seems to deepen and intensify as he looks at you, drawing you in.

"That she got from me," the corners of his mouth curve up into a charming smile. His voice deep and smooth, like a glass of well-aged whiskey. You can sense his confidence, the way he carries himself with ease, and it's hard not to be drawn in.

It's alluring. The way he exudes a sense of self-assurance.

Smiling lightly, hand resting on the cool hood of his car, you both watch the children race each other. Cheers fill the soccer fields.

Even in momentarily silence, it’s comfortable–

"Well, she certainly inherited some good genes, Mr Kennedy."

–there’s no awkward cluster around the two of you. It’s natural.

It draws Leon’s attention back to you. Arms folded, his fingers sneak around his bicep, gripping gently as he shamelessly looks at you. His face a canvas of chiseled features and sharp lines. reminiscent of a Greek statue carved out of marble. A faint scent of musk and cologne lingers around him, blending with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers in the air.

"Just so you know, miss teacher," his voice soft melody that lingers in your mind, "the dinner invitation still stands."

It’s tempting.

The words hang in the air, tantalizingly close.

A whistle cuts through the sounds of the soccer field, interrupting the moment. Leon’s attention briefly flickers towards his daughter, checking as the little girl sprints towards the two of you, before returning to your face.

"And I should remind you, Mr Kennedy, that it’s not very appropriate to ask your daughter’s teacher out."

The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man is hard to resist though. His confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily–

"So? It’s just dinner," his tone is almost conspiratorial, as if he's sharing a secret with you.

–it makes you feel alive.

(Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not strictly forbidden.

Only frown upon. Harshly.)

It's like he's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit.

"Daddy," his daughter doesn’t hesitate, jumping straight into her father’s arm; yet Leon isn’t phased at all, hoisting her into his arms, "Did you see my goal?"

"I did, pup," arm sneaking underneath her knees, you notice the bandage gone, "you killed it."

"Miss teacher," the kid addresses you, hand sneaking into her dad’s hair to hold him tightly while looking up at you with bright, curious eyes, "Did you see me? Did you see my goal?"

"Of course," you answer with a warm smile, "you did great. Seems like you got good genes for it."

The little girl beams with pride, hugging her father even tighter. Leon chuckles, the sound low and rich, and nods his head in agreement.

"I’ll see you on Monday then; pleasure seeing you, Mr Kennedy," as you turn to leave, you can't help but feel a twinge of regret.

The low hum of chatter fills the air, punctuated by occasional laughter and the clink of glasses. The dim lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden booths and bar, giving the place a cozy feel. The smell of fried food and beer lingers in the air, adding to the ambiance of the traditional American pub.

From a corner, a live band plays classic rock tunes, and the patrons nod along to the rhythm, singing softly under their breaths. It's a perfect spot to unwind after a long workday, catch up with friends. Or even make new connections.

Your little freedom.

Away from responsibilities. From the stress of daily life.

This is your escape, your sanctuary, where you can let loose and just be yourself.

Coming to the bartender, you order another round for the group you’re with, only to be taken back by a familiar voice saying your name.

Turning to look at the man by your right, the white stripes on his jacket contrast against the dim, warm ambiance of the room. Fingers tapping on the rim of the glass of whiskey, he takes a sip, his gaze fixed on you; the amber liquid catching the light, casting a glow across his features.

"Mr Kennedy," you exhale, almost in disbelief by the sudden situation.

Mind whirling with surprise and curiosity; the bar is chill against your exposed arm as you lean onto it, turning to look at the man by your side.

"Wouldn’t expect a teacher to be in a bar on Friday night," he smirks, the corner of his lips curving up in amusement.

"We’re not as frigid as people have us to be," you replied, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

Voice like a smoldering flame, waiting to be ignited, he tilts the glass towards you, "Oh, really."

The allure of his presence tangible.

A gravitational pull.

"Well, Mr Kennedy," the words roll off your tongue smoothly, "I suppose we all have our ways of letting loose after a hard week."

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty; making your pulse quicken, heartbeat pick up. "I couldn't agree more," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

You study him for a moment; taking in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, how his hair fal across his forehead in a disheveled yet stylish way. There’s something undeniably attractive about him, something that draws you in against all odds–

–like a moth to a flame.

Life has a funny way of working out.

You should stop.

But ‘should’ doesn’t exist in the moment of impulse. In the realm of desire. Pure, unblistered passion. The temptation to follow desire is too strong–

The world falls away.

–and all thought of 'should' dissipates.

Leon's hands slide around your thighs, gripping the flesh firmly as his body pushes against yours. Pinned to the wall; his lips trail the pulse of your neck. The tip of his tongue leaving wet patches on the heated skin.

The sudden intrusion of reality makes you gasp,"What about—".

It’s Leon’s hand on your breast; squeezing, teasing the clothed flesh through the thin material, thumbing at the erect nipple, that earns him a moan. His daughter’s name spilling over into a sound so soft. Inviting.

Like a hummingbird.

A content hum echoes in his chest; pressed tightly against yours. Feeling the muscles contract beneath you, respond to your movement; to the way your hips press against the growing bulge in his pants.

"—she’s stayin’ at my friend’s," he mumbles against the curve of your collarbones, teeth grazing the firm area.

With a strong grip, your fingers entangle in his hair. The texture soft and silky, like running your hands through fine threads of spun gold.

"Isn’t she young for sleepovers?"

It makes him look at you. Eyes glazed over; hungry. Primal–

He pulls you into an embrace, arm wrapping around your back, his palm cupping your ass. The heat of his body seeps through your clothing, searing your skin with its intensity, his breath ghosting over your lips as he whispers, "I really don’t wanna talk about my kid right now."

It’s a command rather than anything else.

Followed by your clothes.

He has you bare before you make up your mind.

–causing your skin to crawl.

With every touch, every whisper, every breath, he leaves you feeling more exposed, more vulnerable.

Limbs tangled together, lips pressed against each other; there’s no beginning and no end. When one begins, the other follows, like an unbroken circle of passion and desire.

Utter consumption by the fire inside you.

Leon’s hands feel scorching. Each stroke branding your skin.

He splits your apart, fills you to the brim. The head of his cock kisses the innermost parts of you as you stay seated on top of him. Nails scratching the firm muscle of his breastplate; he grips your sides. Digs his fingers into the soft, plump flesh there.

Teeth nip at your chin. Gently nibbles accompanied by your hips circling on top of him.

Cascade of groans, grunts and moans echo throughout Leon’s bedroom; each sound building on the other to create a crescendo of pleasure. The mattress beneath you creaks and strains under your knees.

Lost in the feeling.

His words a salacious melody; sung in a sultry whisper followed by his teeth, nibling at your earlobe; securing your grip on his shoulders feeling the strength of his muscles as he guides your moves.

Up and down. Up and down.

Circle your hips when your pelvis meets his. When your ass touches his thighs; when his fingers dig into the round flesh.

The rhythm builds, the tension mounting with every breath. The ache of desire deep inside, a longing that can only be sated by him. With each movement, you feel closer to the edge, your body aching for release.

Leon whispers encouragement, his voice like a caress against your skin. Head buried in the crook of your neck, your arms tighten around his shoulder. Face buried in the top of his head, the scent of him fills your senses; a heady, intoxicating aroma that envelops you in its warmth.

You breathe him in, savoring the subtle notes of bergamot and spice, the rich undertones of musk and earthiness.

Leon’s name leaves your lips in a soft, breathless moan, a prayer to the god of pleasure.

His lips brush against your collarbone, lingering there for a moment before trailing lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Skin erupting in goosebumps as his breath tickles your chest, your body bows like a taut bowstring, a supplication to his touch. Offering yourself up to him completely.

Hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and planes of your skin with reverent fingers. As if he knows just where to touch you.

With a strong pull and push, your back meets the hard mattress. His hands move over you like a painter's brush, each stroke bringing out a new hue of pleasure. Hips grinding against yours.

Pressing your body closer to his, chest to chest, he rocks against you. The intensity of his movements leaves you gasping for air, a low moan escaping your lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he continues to rut into you.

Long lost is the slow motion–

Your pelvis meets his in a harsh, demanding thrust.

–now he’s chasing his own high. His own release.

His hand slides to cup your jaw, grip your shoulder, eyes boring into yours; intense and unwavering, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts through the depth of your eyes. Consumed by the heat of you.

Head thrown back, you close your eyes; unable to match the fire in his as he grinds against you; his breaths ragged gasps, the only sound in the room the soft rustling of sheets and the slapping of skin against skin.

Leon knows he won’t last long. Not with the way your mouth remains agape, nails digging into the firm tendons of his biceps; heels digging into the flesh of his ass, pushing him deeper. Demanding him to go harder.

You just look so pretty underneath him.

Fingertips trace the warm flesh of your curves. They move slowly, mapping the supple contours of your body with precision; each touch deliberate, a way of committing the curves of your form to memory.

The sensation is electric, every nerve ending on high alert.

His thumb finds your clit, circling it with teasing precision, a feather-light touch. Pushing your hips into his, he obliges your silent demand – adding a bit more pressure with each pass. The slow, steady rhythm of his touch in bright contrast to the sharp thrusts.

Building the tension inside you, until you feel like you might burst. But he doesn't let up, not yet. He's savoring every moment, enjoying the way you writhe beneath him.

Your breath hitches, body tensing as he works you with an almost clinical precision. The ache between your legs grows, spreading through your entire body. He watches you, gauging your reactions, and adjusts his touch accordingly.

The way he focuses on you, with a singular, unwavering intensity, is both thrilling and terrifying.

As for Leon, every movement, every sound, is calculated. He wants to make this last. He wants to make you lose control.

His muscles tense as he drives into you, each thrust bringing him closer to the edge. His breaths come in short gasps, matching the rhythm of your moans. The heat between you intensifies, a physical force that binds you together.

With one final push, final flick of a thumb, he takes you over the edge, his name on your lips.

Clenching around him, walls fluttering, his thrusts grow slow. Leisurely.

As if he’s tantalizing himself. Savoring the feel before he lets go with a groan; a guttural sound that echoes through the bedroom; body spasming. The two of you entwined in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

There should be some sort of regret.

Standing by the foot of Leon’s bed, still searching for your clothes amid the scattered chaos of the apartment, covered by a random shirt you’ve found on the ground (that’s definitely not the one you’ve come with), you can’t help but be drawn to the sleeping man lying before you.

The sheets barely cover the curve of his lower back, and even in slumber, the muscles of his back remain visible; the outline of his physique remains defined and sharp, even in relaxation. The memory of his back muscles beneath your palms lingers on your skin, as if he were still present with you in that moment.

There’s no regret.

Exiting the bedroom, you walk past the kitchen into the hallway. The emptiness of the space is palpable, with nothing adorning the plain white walls; no family photos or decorations to add personality. Only the essential pieces of furniture remain. The floor creaks beneath your bare feet as you open the door closer to you–

(It’s almost like he doesn’t have anyone.

A sense of desolation creeps in you.)

–and are met with a blinding contrast to the rest of the apartment. Rainbow colored sheets neatly tucked into the small bed, pillows in shape of various animals. Light furniture covered in school supplies; and a photo decorating the nightstand.

You pick it up, immediately recognized the two people. It might be the first time you’re seeing Leon actually smile, wide and bright. Happy; with his daughter tightly wrapped in his arms. Faces pressed together, smiling at the camera.

"I hope you're not trying to steal anything," Leon's voice interrupts your reverie; low and husky, still laced by the morning sleep, "I don't have much, y’know."

As you pivot to face him, you can't resist noticing how his bare feet stand out against his fully-clothed form. Hair tousled and messy, only adding to his rugged appeal.

An irresistible wave of attraction washes over you as you scrutinize his appearance, and his playful tone only adds fuel to the fire.

"Don't worry, I'm not after your prized possessions," you reply with a smirk, feeling emboldened by his proximity.

Leon's eyes twinkle mischievously as he steps closer to you, his warm breath brushing against your cheek. "Well, in that case, what’re you after?"

"I was just looking for a bathroom."

Leon's gaze lingers on you, lips curled up in a half-smile. "The bathroom’s down the hall to the right," he points with a nod of his head.

You nod back, trying to ignore the electric sensation that courses through you at his proximity. "Thanks," you say, stepping past him towards the direction he indicated.

As you walk down the hallway, you can't shake off the feeling of emptiness that you felt earlier. It's clear that Leon lives a minimalist lifestyle, but the lack of personal touches leaves you with a sense of melancholy.

Entering the bathroom, you take a moment to splash water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Leon again.

His voice echoes through the small apartment as you make your way towards his voice, entering the kitchen; you're struck by how immaculate it is. Everything’s in its place, and there isn't a single dish out of place. The countertop is spotless, the sink free of any debris, the stainless-steel appliances gleam in the light.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air with the morning sun streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

"I’ll pick her up in an hour," Leon stands in front of the refrigerator, two mugs in one hand, bare feet making a soft thumping sound against the linoleum floor. His hair’s still tousled from sleep, his t-shirt is wrinkled, clinging to his muscles as he holds the phone to his ear.

There’s a certain charm to his disheveled appearance that you find appealing.

Looking at you, he makes no effort to stop the call, instead a playful undertones his voice as he hands you a mug and motions towards the coffee machine, "yeah, just woke up. Had a long night."

Shaking your head at his words; he watches you with a small, amused smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

"See you then. Bye, Claire,” he ends the call, turning his full attention to you.

"Y’know, miss teacher," he pours himself a glass of water, "if you just wanted to skip the whole dinner thing, you should’ve just said."

[darkchocoboo]

don’t make me lose you. i already found you so late | joel miller

TRIGGER WARNING! SH

Su**ide attempt! Detailed description of how they feel. They’re really in a bad mind-set. If this triggers you please please don’t read. (And remember you worth more than everything on this universe. Please don’t be ashamed and seek for help.)

cw: darkness, anger, MAJOR mental breakdown, curse words, guns

summary: Everything in this world feels fucked up and at some point you can’t take it. But Joel wants you to know that he’ll be there for you everytime you need him. He’s your savior.

A/N: I know everything seems so dark but it will get better I promise.

"Look at me Ellie.  I need you to pull yourself together, okay? Can you do that for me baby? C'mon Els. C'mon babygirl.  We don't have time for that. We can't waste time. Joel is waiting for us. C'mon. Get up. I need you. I need you strong baby. You're stronger than me.  If you break down I break down. We can't afford that. Please, please, please, get up. What we saw in there is not easy on anyone. I know, believe me.  If we had time, I would cry my eyes out here. But I can't, fuck. Fuck this. Fuck me. Remember what Joel told you, Els? Repeat it. C'mon. Say it out. C'mon." You kicked the rocks under your boots.  Hands caressed your hair as you try to hold back your tears.  

"Fuck, Ellie. Say it!" You yelled at the girl sitting on a concrete.

"He, he told me to keep you safe." She wiped her tears with back of her hand. Got up.

You hugged her with pain in your heart. Shook of the guilt and anger that you felt for yourself. You had to be strong for Ellie. You had to be strong for yourself. You had to be strong for Joel. There was no place for weakness.

"Let's go Els. He's waiting for us." You hold her hand as you walked on the concrete road. Sun was setting on the empty road. Gun's strap on your shoulder was cutting into your skin with its weight. Twisted ankle's pain was spreading over your body with every step you took. Blood on your your skin dried with the cold breeze. Ellie was quieter than she ever was. You just wanted to open her brain and erase everything she saw because of you.

Joel asked only one thing from you since the beginning. Only one thing. To take Ellie as he handles other important stuff. And meet him where you decided before. And you fucked it up. You screwed up so bad that now Ellie was hurt. You hurt Ellie. You wanted to grab the gun that was hanging from your thigh, put the tip in your mouth and pull the trigger. Knowing that you failed, weight was crushing you.

When sun was down and weather was cold, your destination was a mile away but your legs was about to give up. The smoke from Joel's fire was in sight in clear air. When your knees gave up and your swollen ankle was in unbareble pain you dropped your body under the nearest tree. You pulled your knees to youe chest, your head falling on them.

"Ellie, you go. I will be there in a minute, okay? Tell Joel I'll be alright. Stay with him. Never leave his side. Run. Go. Signal me when you're with him." Ellie wanted to resist but was too tired to do so.

When she turned back and walked away from you the tears you were holding back the whole time started running down on your cheeks. Leaving a trail of dirt and blood. Fingers brushed over the gun on your leg. Your mind getting dizzy with the idea. Idea of being that. Leaving everything behind. The Clickers, the chaos, the pain, Ellie, Joel.

Joel.

The man who saved you. The man who gave you everything in the middle of nothing. The man of your dreams. The man that you love. You were sure that he loved you as a friend, or a sister, a daugter. But you couldn't help yourself falling for him.  You couldn't stop your feelings for him. That was another topic that you failed him. He protected you from the world like he protected Ellie, but you loved him in a different way. You desired him, even. The way he talks, walks, stands, sleeps, eats. That man triggered something inside you.

It was all over now. Your life was gonna be over in seconds. You pulled gun from its case. Cocked it. Put the muzzle on your temple. Cold from it soothed the thin skin. Your finger walked to the trigger. A small shaky breath left your lips. Eyelids closed with the relaxation. Knowing that everything was gonna be over.  

"Hey! Hey! Put the gun down. What the hell are you doin'?" Joel's paniced voice filled your ears as he panted.

"Put it down. PUT IT DOWN Y/N!" You opened your eyes when he yelled at you. Never stopping tears was now faster. Your eyes started to burn.

"I fucked up, Joel. It's over. I failed Ellie, I failed you. I fucked everything up."

"No, babygirl. No, she's safe. You're safe. We can fix everything else. Give me the gun." He took a step towards you. Your hand raised to stop him from getting closer. You didn't want your blood over his shirt. You wanted him to stay out of this.

"You'll be better of without me, Joel. I'm just a failure. Just let me do it."

"Ellie needs you Y/N. Fuck. I need you. Can't do it without you. Please. Let me help you. Baby, please." His voice was now weak, he looked smaller to you. He mumbled things under his breath but your mind was to busy to understand. Your head started to spin, your stomach was burning up with the intense feeling. You tried to stop yourself from puking but it was to late. Gun dropped from your hand as you leaned over with the gagging reflex. He grabbed the gun as you emptied your stomach. Unloading it with shaky hands.

"You're okay baby. I got you. I got you." He pulled you to your legs, wrapped his arms around your waist.

"You gonna be fine. I got you." He kissed the temple that was touching with the gun's muzzle. "We got this." His hands caressing your back with soothing motions.

"Joel, I," Your tears left wet patches on his dark colored flannel.

"I don't know what to do. I, I can't keep going." He squeezed you more with each of your words.

"Y/N look at me. Ellie wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you. You took a fucking bullet for that kid, remember?"

His hardened fingertips found the scar tissue on your shoulder. A spider web shaped, darkened skin. Still hurting everytime you think about it.

"I need you. I need you to be right by my side when I need you the most. Like you always did."

You dropped on your knees, taking him with you. Sharp rocks cut your skin and dig into your knees that your ripped jeans left unprotected. Pain made you sob. Harder than before.

You looked through his dark orbs with dove eyes.

"Is Ellie gonna be okay, Joel?" He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"She fell asleep. You wanna talk about what happened or do you wanna talk when you're better?"

You closed your eyes in pain.

"She saw it. Went into that room before I could stop her. I was slow, Joel. I couldn't protect her. I had one job. I failed. She may be alive but I know it will hunt her dreams for the rest of her life. Joel. I'm useless."

"She's stronger than you think. It's gonna be alright. But, baby I know this is not the only reason. What got you so vulnerable?"

Your nails dig into his biceps. Pain in your heart never going away.

"I don't know Joel. Nothing. Everything. I feel tired. I feel small. I feel useless. I feel lost. I feel alone. Like you have Tommy. Ellie has you. Who do I have? All alone in this fucking fucked up world trying to survive. Fighting for my life everyday. And it all ends up with nothing in my hands. Just more pain in lonely cold nights."

Joel's big hands grabbed your chin to make you look at him. You could see the pain in his eyes under the dim moon light.

"You have me, baby."

His eyes dropped to your scarred lips in the silence of the night. Thumb brushed against bottom lip, looking through every expression on your face for courage to do it.

"Don't make me lose you. I found you so late already."

He pressed his lips to yours. Washing over every feeling away from you for a moment.

[roo-bastmoon]

To the Sockpuppets in my Asks

"Jimin is so private! What does he have to hide?"

*Flashbacks to Jimin's mail being "omitted" four times and his national ID and address being leaked online, which the press sat on until his OST With You dropped, or, years prior, when folks accused him of whoring and doing coke because he... [checks notes] played a forehead-flicking game at a pub restaurant in Paris*

"Jimin keeps saying he's all alone!"

*Jimin is seen at work, at the gym, taking trips for work and vacation, posting photos on Insta, and appearing on shows and in dance challenges*

"Jimin never goes out anywhere!"

*Yet another idol scandal is in the news, this time involving illegal drugs, yet somehow, Jimin's photo at the official Nike dinner with Joon gets circulated as him "out clubbing"*

"Jimin and Jungkook never show that they hang out! They are never together any more!"

*South Korea enacts  Article 92-6*

Look, conspiracy theories are bullshit, but ALSO:

Jimin and Jungkook are both cooking big, big feasts for us before service and they are focused on that right now. There's still plenty of evidence they see each other and are on great terms, if you actually listen to them, so stop flooding my ask box under sockpuppet accounts, crowing that Jimin is all alone and Jungkook doesn't care about him.

Look, puppykitties...

I cannot tell you Jikook are dating. I do not live in their cupboards and watch them 24/7.

Yes, JK has been hanging out with 97 line friends these days and yes, Jimin and Yoongi (and Hobi) have all gotten super duper close (or are at least more comfy talking openly about how close they've always been) in solo era. And yes:

Jikook don't talk about Jikook these days.

But what ISN'T being said sounds so loud that half this fandom froths at the mouth every other day.

Jimin has two gaming chairs in his apartment--including one chair that really looks similar to the one Jungkook had.

Jimin traveled half-way around the world to be with Jungkook during his debut and we still have no idea what they were doing at the restaurant or on the boat. Let's wait patiently.

There's been some highly suspect photos in the past of a guy in a white bucket hat with JK via CCTV at a quick mart (illegal, won't be posting) or of suspiciously similar-looking hands during game nights on JK's brother's Insta (family stuff, won't be posting). There's also video of someone who looks eerily similar to Jimin in expensive designer clothing at the arrivals terminal of the airport when JK got back from the World Cup--and later, just beyond the airport, footage of JK's car pulling away from another company car with fans screaming "Jimin!" to the riders inside (unofficial content, won't be posting).

Jungkook knows every single lyric in Jimin's songs, and his choreo, AND what he says, word for word, on his interviews.

Jimin took up boxing and has showed us he has a punching bag in house.

Jungkook muttered that Jimin moved his lamp.

Jimin went to the airport sporting what looked like a big dog scratch.

Vminkook went to a cafe in Jeju. K-Army said they spotted Jikook there well before Tae posted about it.

Jimin and Jungkook both watched the same random anime series recently.

Jimin ran up to Jungkook to cutely say "periri" so often that Jungkook was afraid he'd accidentally say it on stage.

JK quietly stopped by Jimin's docu-live, and Jimin lit up like a Christmas tree and then grabbed his moob.

AGAIN: I. CANNOT. TELL. YOU. THEY. ARE. DATING.

But don't come here with that "Jimin is always alone" and "JK only cares about his career, not Jimin" nonsense.

Please make better use of your time by watching JUNGKOOK'S GOLDEN PREVIEW and JIMIN'S SPECIAL TALK LIVE and then go watch YOONGI'S SUCHWITA WITH 2MIN for good measure!

And next time you come to my blog, if you can't say something nice...

Okay?

Okay.

*hugs* Love, Roo

[larcenywrites]

Since Tony's birthday is near (May 29th), could we get some headcanons for celebrating birthdays with him? Maybe waking him up with breakfast in bed and birthday cupcakes, just something small and intimate, just the two of you before y'all gotta go to his official birthday party with like half of the town in it or maybe a bigass birthday party his parents are throwing for him if it's young!Tony?! Young!Tony or regular Tony, whatever you prefer. Fluffy (and smutty if you want heheh birthday boy also deserves some bday sex)

EEEE, I knew I should do something for it today, but didn't have the time or energy to plan out any good one-shots or anything! And I do wanna do both :3

Warnings: sexual references

Celebrating His Birthday

young!Tony Stark

💠Tony takes any excuse to party! So your first thought is that you may have to chain him to a tree to keep him from going too crazy when his birthday comes around! Wait... when is his birthday? You still don't know even after you've been together after quite a few months. Hopefully you haven't missed it :( but when you ask, he whines grumpily and rolls over, but not because you missed.

💠"May 29th," he finally grumbles after you poke around (and poke him) a little. His obvious dip in mood has you deflated, lying limply over him. Tony hates his birthday. He'll tell you outright, but he won't really give you a reason. "So you don't do anything?" College is out, so he can't even go to some party or throw one, his one friend isn't from around here, and you weren't around until recently, soooooo the answer to that question is no.

💠His parents can hardly get him to eat dinner with them, and for once he doesn't want Things or Stuff. Because of this, it's just another day that Howard and Tony fight over, but Tony's been called ungrateful and an asshole many many times, so it's not going to phase him today any more than another. Well, obviously something is phasing him a little more today than any other day, but you can really only infer from context clues. He will never tell.

💠Even with you, he doesn’t want it to be a big deal. He’d prefer to lay around in bed all day tbh. Tony’s energy levels aren’t necessarily high to begin with, but he’s pretty low today :( don’t make him do too much too fast, don’t go crazy. In fact, let him sleep in for as long as he wants! Well, maybe not too late. He will sleep until the next day if you let him 😅 If you're feeling brave, slide under the covers to wake him up with a blowjob 😏 buuut he might go back to sleep when you're done... Maybe save it for later...

💠Instead, wake him up a little more gently that afternoon! Even he can't help but smile when you're kissing over his cheeks and playing with his hair 😘 Lie down on top of him and you'll probably be tempted to join him in bed, after all, but- no! Today isn't a day to be moping around!

💠But... wait. What do you get for the man that has pretty much everything and has done pretty much everything? Honestly, don't think about it too hard. Even if he's done it a thousand times, what makes him happy? Anything is better that letting his thoughts eat him alive in bed all day :(

💠If he's turning 21, even though he's already had his fair share of alcohol, be a bit of a dork and make him order a drink at a restaurant or go to a uncrowded bar. He can get it legally now! Amazing! He may even get a free one or two because it's his birthday! But it's also 2 in the afternoon, and his parents still want to do something later, so keep an eye on him and don't let him drink too much... or do and laugh your ass off when he's stumbling through the park, but you might get the cops on your ass 😒

💠You could take him to a liquor store, but those guys haven't been IDing for years 🙄 But you can make him try some weird shit like birthday cake flavored vodka or banana pudding moonshine! You can't exactly try it out now, but just because everyone else goes to bed doesn't mean you two will!

💠It may sound boring to you, but if you can find some thrift-like store that is just full of vinyl records and such, he'll be like a kid in a candy shop! Or maybe closer to a bull in in a china shop. How did he not know this was so nearby? He always pays for everything, so you could try to be nice and repay that this time, but be aware, Tony can rack up quite a big bill 🤧 Either way, he'll be pretty excited! If you can, try to get an album he likes that has limited addition cover art or maybe the record itself is a special color. His eyes will light up when you suddenly hand it to him to add to his pile, and you'll get a nice kiss right there in the shop 🥰 Tony might even find a way to hang it up or display it, he'll be so happy!

💠Hopefully you aren't tired of it, because somehow Tony is never tired of the aquarium! The penguin show? He's front row. The touch tanks? He's having more fun than the kids. The sea lions? Still scared of them. The reef sharks? Somehow knows another random fact about them. Get into one of those behind-the-scenes tours where they show off the water pumps and vet centers. He's never considered it before, and he'll be all over the machines back there! He's never been one for the gift shop, but get him a shark plushie this time 🥺 he'll act like he's too grown for that, but he'll be petting it the entire time he's holding it 😌

💠Head back home and, regardless of all the previous not-so-happy birthdays, Maria still tries to do something, bless her. She probably told you to bring him back by a certain time, too. She does a lot, but manages to keep it simple at the same time because she knows Tony will feel less weird about it 🥺 Probably just makes his favorite meal. Tony doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, and prefers fruitier flavors compared to chocolatey, so instead of a cake it's probably an arrangement of fruit-garnished cupcakes with a simple candle on the one in the middle :) that he really doesn't want to blow out because it makes him feel a bit weird and kinda gross :( but, fine, he'll do it for you guys 🙄

💠And of course she got a gift or two! Not much because she knows Tony will feel bad, but a few nice shirts for you to steal later and maybe another high-end watch that he needed another color in (or maybe matches these new shirts better than his other would 💅). If he's turned 21, she probably also got him some kind of high-end whiskey even though he literally drinks wine with them at home and stuff, so it's not a big deal... but it's all in good fun! Maria will even do a shot or two with him (and you if you join in) with whatever she bought 🤭

💠She's also cheesy and sentimental, and always takes a picture of Tony on his birthday even knowing he can't stand it 🤧 But this time, you get to be in the picture, and his smile is much more genuine and happy this time 🥺 That is, until she gets out the pictures from every other birthday to show you- including one taken only an hour after he was born! Tiny Tony!

💠Considering you both woke up late, it's definitely not sleepy time, even after all the fun, but those drinks will definitely make Tony a bit loud... Grand idea: sneak out to go to the beach and watch the sunset! With drinks in tow, of course! And maybe a cupcake or two.

💠There's a section for "kids," but who's to say you aren't allowed to use the swings too?? Force him to sit on the seesaw with you!

💠"This is stupid."

💠"Tony, we always do something stupid."

💠He'll gripe, but he'll have fun 😌 And by fun, he'll probably end up keeping you in the air while he's busy licking lemon icing off of a cupcake. Honestly, it's not a bad view, but pout about it just so he'll smile up at you 💘

💠Sit on the swings and cough in disgust at the cake flavored vodka, even though Tony will keep drinking it anyway and complain about how gross it is each time 🙄 You may need to cut him off before he falls out of the seat, but he's just as leaned over down in the sand, too. On you, of course! He's really not that bad off, just a little giggly 😆 His tolerance isn't as high as you'd think.

💠He's more interested in splashing you with water than the setting sun, but he better not get salty sea water on your cupcake! Give him a little kiss to calm him right down ;) and he'll just rest a cheek on your shoulder instead, and barely rest his fingers over yours like he's suddenly shy to hold your hand for the first time. Just cozy up to him and let him sober up a little more as the stars come out, and watch him still manage to point out planets and constellations despite the inebriation.

💠"I don't really know what it means, but mom said I'm a Gemini," he mumbles, pointing at a starry cluster. "I don't have a twin, though."

💠"I don't think that's what that means, Tony."

💠It's getting cold and late, so pack him into the car and sneak back into his room through the window, and he's already undressing before you can even close it behind you!

💠"Was it okay?" You, rightfully so, ask nervously. He hums thoughtfully, but the arms pulling you into him answer your question.

💠"It was much better than okay," he responds quietly, shyly smiling and looking down. Only your hands on his face and kiss on his nose can make him look back up at you. His nose crinkles, but his smiles does get bigger :) Too big actually...

💠"But I know a way you could make it better."

Tony Stark

💠One might say that every day must be Tony's birthday. He always gets what he wants, he's always going places, he throws parties every other weekend and half the time he doesn't even show up

💠But the day of his actual birthday? Oh, you'll know when it is, but he still might not even make it to his own party 😅

💠But the craziness doesn't happen 'til sunset, or maybe just not until the weekend if his b-day is on a weekday. If it is, he always takes the day off even if he does literally nothing. He's entitled to the day, he says. I still haven't recovered from being born, so I need the time off.

💠No matter the excuse, you could never say no to having him in bed into the late mornings, nor to pampering him even though he's always spoiled af 😌

💠You should probably let a terminally exhausted man sleep, but he won't be mad at the tickling kisses to his neck, or the tongue trailing down his stomach... it's not very often you get the chance to wake up before him, so you're both more than happy with a little morning blowjob 😏 Coddle him and cuddle him when he finishes, wrap your arms around his neck and plant your lips in his hair. Let him lay in bed for a while longer 😌 Possibly into the afternoon because he'll return the favor and it's his b-day, you gotta let him have as much of his favorite treat as he wants 😘

💠But once you do finally get out of bed, it's mostly a relaxed day. Surprising, right? Sure, his party this weekend is going to be wild, but just in the house with you should be a little more intimate and loving.

💠It's rare that he can or wants to do actual cooking with you! Probably something easy, though, like waffles or pancakes. And he probably wants to make smiley faces in the batter out of blueberries or raspberries or something 🥺 And you know what? Who cares about eating in bed today! He still does a little, but- it's fine it can be washed if something does get dropped but please try not to

💠Make a few cupcakes just for fun! He wants to put on the icing, though! Beautiful might not be the word you'd use to describe them, but Tony doesn't seem to mind 😅 He might also terrorize you with the bag of icing, or wipe it off on you when it gets on his hands. You could compete with him if you want, but if yours look better he'll simply steal them instead! And swipe that bit of icing off his nose while you’re at it 🥺

💠The house probably already has gifts piled up in the living room, even from business and CEOs from the other side of the world! They're mostly complimentary things, though. Just cards or native plants, maybe a charm or two that are supposed to carry fortune and luck. It's fun to just go through them all! But you could quite literally spend hours doing it, and he'll likely have even more by the weekend! Honestly... most of it gets thrown out anyway, so don't feel bad about your own gifts 😌

💠In fact, you really don't need to get him anything. As much as he likes to get gifts just to feel ooed and awed and all, he has everything he could ever want right here, and that's fine! If anything, maybe get him a cologne that you really liked in the store 😏 or just get him a silly looking tie or boxers with fish on them or something lmao

💠Absolutely make DUM-E wear a party hat and make JARVIS sing happy birthday 🥳 While your at it, put a hat on Tony too! But if you want to light a candle on a cake or something, make sure no nearby robotic arms can attempt to put it out 🤧 Tony will not be very amused, but it does make a funny picture!

💠Have JARVIS design a card, and sign his name somewhere when he prints it! Maybe a simple but sweet message in the center, with love, from us, or something 💛 DUM-E will draw a very very beautiful heart that takes up an entire side of the card :) it’s a little jagged and lopsided, but it’s a lot better than last year’s! Sure, there’s probably a big guest book at his party that tons of people will sign, but this is different. These are the ones that actually know and love him, and can write personal messages alongside their names because there’s so few, and in their own favorite colors! DUM-E and U also sign their names right inside that heart, just as beautiful 😌 Tony will never admit it, but every year it still makes him want to tear up a little 🥲

💠Sit on the balcony at night and light the fire pit, cuddle in the fake grass with some shitty takeout like McDonalds or something. He can still point out every constellation, and he still doesn't really know much why it matters that he's Gemini or whatever. He doesn't even have a twin??

💠You may want to keep up his mother's tradition and add another photo to the album. Tony won't mind, and may not be paying attention anyway, but honestly today isn't the day that he wants to look back through it. It's probably been years, but one day he will. And, boy, he'll probably be shocked at how much he's changed 🥹

💠End the night with a nice bath, with vanilla scented bath bombs and maybe splashing water over the side of the edge of the tub and all over the tile floor... get him ready for another workday or two 😔

💠But with the weekend comes the day of the party! Which is probably now at some grand ballroom or hall after an incident at the house a while back 😒

💠Probably just me being a service sub, but dress him up for his party 🥺 wash his hair, get out that cologne you bought for him. Maybe he'll put his favored necklace on you, with a little kiss to the back of your neck 🥺 and this is exactly why he doesn't make it to his parties half the time...

💠Be prepared to drag a drunken Tony up a flight of stairs and into bed later! Just stay nearby to make sure he doesn't get into anything he shouldn't! Especially that tower of glasses full of champagne 😬But let yourself have some fun, too, if drinking is your thing, but you still probably won't be able to outdrink him!

💠He is going to want to cut the first piece of that very tall marbled cake. Hopefully it's done earlier in the night when he's not as drunk and properly wield a big knife. Otherwise, you might need to help him out 😅 Or just get Happy to do it because you might be a little under the table yourself. Tony might be pouty about not being the first to cut it, though >:(

💠Did someone say fireworks? Yep, a whole show of 'em! Any shape and color you can think of! But you both may be too busy making out in a nearby bathroom to catch it... ah, who cares? he can shoot fireworks over the ocean from the balcony anytime he wants!

💠You won't know most of the people. Tony might know about 40% of them. Why is this person congratulating you? Why is some asshole trying to strike a business deal with Tony-- and his drunk ass is agreeing?? Well thank god this isn't at your house this time because the people on the roof are not your problem 🤨

💠When Tony is more sober again by the end of the night, AKA 1am, he might ask you to dance with him ❤ He might still be a bit clumsy on his feet, but let him have his moment 🥺 and a few kisses!

💠He's going to be pretty damn tired when you finally get home, but you probably are too. And whether you like it or not, you might have to help him undress or else he will just fall asleep as is. Shoes and all! But no matter how tired he is, it won't stop him from trying to get a little frisky when you start unbuttoning his shirt 😉

💠And eventually, that grand cake will be a small array of red and yellow cupcakes, raspberry and lemon if you must know! And eventually those party guest filter more and more into a smaller group that you'll finally know and actually be able to trust. Tony isn't too keen on the crowds anymore, anyway. Or the noise, or the drink. Plenty of gifts still pile up in the living room, but by now he hardly cares to look through them unless its from his small social circle. Besides, he probably has a much better gift in his arms that needs to be attended to first 😌

[radley-writes]

Different anon here. Been suffering a pretty significant depression slump that magnified tenfold after a pretty devastating breakup.. my main WIPs were romances but now the idea of romantic love makes me want to puke from the anxiety. It's been almost half a year now, and I feel like I'm in a constant state of mourning, a ghost of myself. Will I ever be able to write again..?

Oh, nonnie. You've really been through it. Come walk with me to the river, okay?

[image description: a sunlit field, lined with trees, and a pale blue winter sky above]

It's a lovely sunny (if FREEZING) day, so you'll need a coat and a sunhat!

Here we go...

You've been through something horrible, which has tarnished your love for your favourite genre. I'm so sorry that the breakdown of your relationship took writing romance from you. That sounds incredibly difficult, and to grieve that loss is understandable.

Let's head down through the farmland, along the muddy tracks pitted with the hoof prints of wild deer...

[ID: a dirt road leading between two thin lines of trees, with green fields on either side]

As far as I see it, three options lie before you.

1) push through the anxiety and force yourself back into writing what you used to love, risking making yourself hate it even more and causing yourself psychological damage in the process.

2) abandon the idea of writing romance entirely and focus on something new - which means letting go of something you still care deeply for, and many memories you cherish.

3) wait to heal and hope time will resolve your lingering trauma around romance - but you don’t know how long this will take, or even if it will work at all.

.... We're gonna have to take a detour because the rich city slicker bastards are out shooting birds for 'sport' again 🙃. Scuse me...

[ID: A copse of spindly birch trees, leafless in winter. ]

[ID: A fallow field with a green field behind it. The green field is dotted with numerous white fabric flags.]

Back onto a new path! And look at all the flags on that one field.... Fuck any geese who land THERE in particular, huh?

Any one of those options might work for different people! However, I suspect you’re aware of these choices, and for whatever reason, they aren’t working for you.

I can't give you a perfect answer. I can't even promise that you will write romance again. But if you’re ready, I can give you a few ideas that invoke elements of Option 1, 2 and 3, which might help with the healing process.

[ID: A path along the edge of a field, leading into a group of trees. A river is visible beyond it.]

Sometimes, we start to resent ourselves when we can no longer do something from which we used to extract joy - be this for any reason, trauma, physical disability, end of a hyperfixation, etc. If this is the case, holding tightly onto the past may not be in your best interest.

If the mere idea of writing romance brings you no joy and satisfaction, only repulsion and misery... If you are clinging on to your desire to write romance out of a need to prove that you are the same person you were before you went through this, and that what you suffered did not effect you... it might be best for you to cut that desire loose.

There are so many creative outlets out there. Something else will call to you. You could try to - very slowly and gently - broaden your reading horizons, and write something completely devoid of romance. You could dabble in different hobbies and turn your focus to alternate means of creativity, from dance to cooking to pottery.

And if you sample many different dishes and none of them appeal... There's a fair chance that, by the time you reach that point, you might have put enough time and distance between yourself and the disintegration of this relationship, that writing romance no longer feels like stabbing yourself repeatedly in the chest.

It might still hurt, but it’ll be more like grasping a thorn. A small, sharp pain, but one that isn't going to tear you all the way open.

We're almost there!

[ID: A muddy path through leafless, ivy-wrapped winter trees. A river is just visible between them]

It’s alright to change. It’s alright to let trauma and loss shape us, so long as we don’t let it ruin our lives and the lives of people around us.

We're here! Let's sit down for a bit.

[ID: Half of a simple wooden bench, on a grassy bank, pointing away from the camera.]

I want you to sit quietly for a while. Think about what I’ve said, and ask yourself, truly, if pursuing becoming a romance writer again is the best course for you.

If it is - or if you are unsure, but still want to try - let's focus on trying to help you reclaim that part of yourself that you used to love.

Does reading romance also give you panic attacks? How about novels that include romance, but focus their plot in a different direction? Sit down with a fantasy book that has a minor background romance - I can give you some reccs, if you want! See how you feel.

Is there a show you really love, and some characters whose relationship you're invested in? Do those characters feel sufficiently distant from your situation? If so, could you write a few short snippets of fanfic. You don't have to publish them - but if I'm in a slump, writing fanfic often feels far less personal than writing about my own OCs. That might help you rediscover your affection for the romance genre, without cutting out your own heart and slapping it on the page.

Alternatively, could you write a platonic romance? By which I mean, for writing practice, try to incorporate all the 'beats' of a romance book, but focus on a different type of love - that between friends, or siblings, or even a parent and a child. Again, this might help you access the emotional ups and lows of a romance novel and help you hone your writing skills, while avoiding the core issue of a romantic relationship.

[ID: a river meanders over a flat countryside, reflecting the blue cloudy sky]

Here's our river, winding away. I hope that no matter what you choose to do, you take good care of yourself.

You will find creative joy again, somewhere, even if it's not in the same way you're used to. Of that much, I'm certain. X

[becca4leafclover]

New Creative World Build!

Something new on the other side of the valley, Keima's Alchemy Lab!

(oh my god new shaders make it look SO pretty!)

In the lore of my stuff, this world is a popular settling spot for the people of the multiverse after milennia of strife. It's full of different species, abilities, knowledge and culture. Keima is no exception: she is an individual who was ejected from her homeworld in a freak incident between warring deities and ended up in the multiverse. She rebuilt her alchemy lab in the world she settled in and started teaching her discipline to anyone interested.

(AKA, Keima was the character I played on a dead SMP, and I'm deciding she deserves to keep her story going.)

The waiting room to the lab: mostly a place where friends and family impatiently wait for their loved one to check the time. The front desk has an ID swipe and intercom to control who can go into the workspace of the lab, and someone working at the front desk could check in new people.

The locker room, just a place to put your stuff while you're in the lab! Jewerly not allowed (unless you physically can't take it off.)

The main body of the lab! They keep some unique specimens on hand and have some leftover remnants of past experiments that can't be scrubbed out. In the back is the lab's water reservoir, filled with collected rainwater and heated by lava.

"Alchemy" is a pretty broad term for ultimately, studying the makeup and "truth" of the Universe. It starts in the basics with discovering the properties of life that can be infused into potions, and becomes more complicated when you start tampering with the rules of reality. That dark spot on the ground is bedrock. Keima's current project is trying to ignite the deepslate portal in hopes it can give her clues to finding her old world.

Up the main lift is the potion brewing stations! (...I forgot to add potion bottles for the photo. Oops.) The pipe running across the ceiling supplies the heated water to the stands that need it- a simple drip infusion, and a more complex setup for experiments. And the station in the middle is manual, for potions that don't need heat and don't take too long to brew.

There's a second lift in the tower, one that remains up at the top floor during opening hours of the lab. No one that been up there has lived to tell the tale- at least, that's what Keima says.

Why? Because that's her bedroom, damn it! Can't a woman have her privacy?

Keima is a person who does not care for emotional connections. However, in her bedroom she's allowed herself reminders of where she came from: armor similar to her most powerful set (for that was darkmetal and she was the only person to aquire it), a plant similar to the ones that were grown in her town (where the trees were so tall they touched the sky), a flower from her dead lover (a soulmate she was trying to save), a lantern for her goddess (in a past life not remembered.) She does not want to go back to her homeworld exactly, but she does not want to forget what she left behind if she is the sole survivor of her original world.

Aaaaaaaaand that's it! If you want to see me building more in this world and ask any questions about its lore or my multiverse stories, stop by my streams! I try to stream at least once a weekend and I post here when I'm going live :D

[tadpal]

🥀🌿✨

hello isabell!! have i told u that i love your pfp i love to see it it makes me giggle

🥀 what keeps you motivated/helps boost your mood when you’re feeling off?

motivation is a huge weakness for me! if i knew how to boost it i wouldnt be on this app but i have a laundry list miles long about mood boosting and emotional maintenance! ive been in and out of care for bpd and autism for the better part of 8 years now and while i can't rate the professional help (nhs mh 😬) i CAN say that i am currently doing super well in terms of stability. i think for me it's less about Feeling Better and more about breaking the bad you know? temperature shocks are a big thing for me, especially with my heavy emotional weights for temp, so it's a lot of uncomfortable showers, cooling towels on neck, cool water on feet and face, cat baths, hot water bottles, ice creams, going outside. just anything with that like Temperature Shock is going to help. for overwhelming most often going sudden cold (safely) is what works best for me!! resets!

🌿 do you like having plants in your home/yard? do you have any currently?

LOVE THEM!!! when i was living at uni i had 7-9 various houseplants in my room and others scattered in the kitchen halls and bathroom but these days most of them have been claimed by my mom! i have three in my room now! a large succulent a sort of grass and something tall with dark greens and waxy leaves... by those descriptions you can tell im terrible at remembering plant types but im surprisingly not terrible at keeping them alive. idk it mostly just works out

✨ what scents do you have strong memories/associations with?

the nice ones are like orange blossom (aunts perfume who passed, grandmother figure to me, scent never lasted bc of her work so you could only ever smell it if you hugged real tight, calloused hands, bristly hair, miss her ), ocean spray (lived by a beach, leaving the commune for outings, big bright blue, one day we'll get out of here, people on the outside are kind - the systemite kids are kind - i will be able to have friends on the outside, calm, loneliness, laughter), honeysuckle (represents childhood hunger and gentleness and peace and danger, the importance of ritual), lemon blossom (tree by the pool in one of the worst communes we lived in, best lemons ive ever tasted, my aunt maria taught me how to make soap), apple cider vinegar (self sufficiency - making meals for myself too young, fresh vegetables from the local farms, abuelas tomato salads, full stomachs)

but there's also more unpleasant ones just in terms of the scent itself: septic tank in the height of summer (danger, childhood recklessness, the feeling of being trapped, the buzz of the wasps,) the thing that died in the pool over winter (we didn't find it until we cleaned the pool in summer, it smelt mostly of chlorine, we don't know what animal it had been, it's bones were greyer than id expected, my mom cried for a week) and it's dry and the car is leaking (it's the middle of a drought and the old car is leaking, thick black oil onto the drive. there have been three bush fires this week and every time you haul your childhood possessions onto the year and watch the smoke. the smoke clings and clutches and you think about the oil. no one else can smell it but you. it's worse when the fires start when you're already out and you think about all the things that you left inside the home.) the smell of the old car in summer (and then you're inside the car, waiting at the gas station and all around you is the smell of smoke and gasoline and seaweed and leaking. the seat is somehow sticky and sandy all at once. your uncle is talking about leaving forever again.)

i am very much an associator tho you could say anything and id go Oh That Reminds Me. guy who is reminded

[hikari-ni-naritai]

Multiples of 4

Also 15 and 26

4. Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side?

side! can't hold hanako daki in other positions

8. What’s your favorite band/artist?

egh. picking favourites AGAIN. im so tired of this. i think officially its thank you scientist. but im not really feeling that right now. we could fall back on my previous favourite, dream theater. but im not really feeling that either. we could make a new one and say ling tosite sigure. but ehhhgh. right now im listening to porcupine tree and thats all that matters.

12. Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now?

thats so many...... thats a lot of people kiara. i dont want anybody to even be in the same room as me right now. but if i have to pick. id take a hug from kay. id take a hug from anno. id take a hug from audrey. id take a hug from you. and id take a hug from the guy who got me into monster hunter bc he was very large and soft and pleasant to hug.

15. What’s your favorite season?

spring!

16. Want any tattoos? What of?

i dont really want any. but if i was ever in a situation where it would be beneficial and convenient to get one, id get the witch's kiss from pmmm

20. What/who do you miss?

i miss not having a job.

24. When was the last time you cried? Why?

fucking REGRETTABLY im pretty sure it was . yesterday or the day before? when watching slime isekai when shizu died. i didnt like fully properly cry but yknow. eyes wet. i know something else fully got me tho let me see what it was. well looking through my watchlist doesnt tell me. it was some anime or other. maybe yurucamp? maybe apothecary diaries? maybe something seasonal? no one knows. oh wait!!!! im pretty sure it was two saturdays ago when i watched Fate/Stay Night Heavens Feel 3.

26. What are some seemingly childish things you like?

aside from anime and video games? i like playing in the sand. idk . most of the stuff i like feels childish

28. How are you, really?

not great! answering all these questions is making me reach the limits of my socialisation battery, which usually they dont do that. i need to recover.

32. If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?

BED STILL

36. Do you like your middle name?

i like my legal middle name so much im making it my last name. i havent decided on a middle name for when i do that, but im going to like it when i do. "Rose" was suggested and its growing on me. in a weird way. i maybe shouldnt bc i know a rose. but yaknow.

40. already answered~!

44. Who was the last person you said “I love you” to?

kay!

48. Who’s someone you can trust with your life?

also kay i think! but mostly me!

[pinkpalaceapartmcnts]

hey! i'm about to start edge & i don't know much about the story but by reading mainly the summary and gathering what i can from the information one my best friends sent me, the story reminded me of this poem called “it is once again the summer of my discontent & this is how we do it” from Hanif Abdurraqib. the whole poem is beautiful but two quotes reminded of edge:

[ Text ID: There is intimacy in the moment where the eyes of two enemies meet. there is a tenderness in knowing what desire ties you to a person, even if you have spent your dreaming hours cutting them a casket from the tree in their mothers front yard. it is a blessing to know someone wants a funeral for you. / a lover becomes an enemy, though it is tough to say when it happens. probably when there is a song you cannot remember them living inside of any more, even if both of you curled your lips around the words in a car at some impossible hour of morning, driving. ]

anyway... just wanted to share :) can't wait to read ur work <3 

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! it matches the edge vibe so so so well! i need to go read the whole poem now!!!

i hope you like edge 💙 :)

[rodivi]

Forgotten Curse: Sukuna x Curse! Reader:

Art by me (RosaliavonVaugh is my other account, but I mainly use Rodivi)

I scroll through my phone seeing speech bubbles fly past like there's no tomorrow.

Wow. I can't believe how good this series is! I wish I could meet some of my favorite characters... Does that make me a simp? Meh.

With the dirt brushing against my sneakers, I take in a deep breath enjoying the fresh air. Avoiding the prickly shrubs and ferns I make my way down the powdery path.

"Come here y/n."

I stopped, sweating at how close that voice sounded. Nothing appeared to be out of place, just trees, ivy, and ferns. Regaining some semblance of strength, I take one step forward and then another. Until I'm in a full-on sprint. Thinking that I am far away from whatever the hell that was, I push myself up against a tree. Black dots spot my vision.

"Don't run from me."

Is that? No, it couldn't be. He isn't in this realm. That's impossible.

I glance around myself once more to check if he is here. Sweat is soaking my shirt and my heart drops at the disaster waiting to happen. I eased out of my hiding spot and stepped back onto the pathway.

Something shoved me forward and as I stretched my arms to brace myself there was nothing underneath me. A bright light engulfs my body as I begin to tumble down into the unknown.

I huddle into myself and spin wishing I could grab onto a branch or even a twig to keep me grounded. Yet there is nothing. Blue lights swirl around me when I dare to peek at my fate. It kind of reminds me of a raspberry slushy. A brush of air vaults me upward, slowing my descent and I shiver. Holding my breath, I wish to forget the flipping my stomach is doing.

Am I going to die?

Nausea bubbles up within me and I clasp a hand over my mouth. Which does little to help. 

Should I say my final farewells? Eh...too late for that.

*SPLAT*

The ocean of blues fades away and all I hear is ringing.  Everything hurts.

                                                        ***

The world spins as I open my eyes. When I attempt to move, my legs shock me with pain. I give up on moving, I try to figure out how to stop the world from swirling first.

My eyesight whooshes like a merry-go-round. In an attempt of desperation, I stare at one spot for what feels like forever until my vision stills.

One problem is fixed and then another starts. 

My legs appear as a mangled mess of noodles. And the pain comes back with a vengeance.

God fucking dammit.

I don't recognize where I am. What I can only assume to be my phone is covered in cracks like a shattered mirror. When I turn it on the screen glitches and different colors fill in the spots between the shards.

First, I wake up in a place I don't know. Then, the vertigo and of course my phone doesn't work. Even BETTER. And the pain, oh god the pain. 

Then my legs start healing. 

What    the    fuck.

The pain begins to subside and I shove my phone back into my pocket. 

I'm starting to question my humanity at this rate.

I rest my face in my hands before checking my other pockets.

A wallet?

Popping open the clip on the leather wallet I find my ID. 

At least I know some things about myself now. 

I inhale before taking in the environment. The city. I glance up at the writing on the signs and recognize that it's Japanese. One more look at my ID confirms this is not home. I make an attempt to push myself off the ground. And somehow my legs hold albeit shaking. 

At least they aren't bent in the wrong direction anymore. Heh. 

Grinding my teeth together from the pain, I mosey onward searching for anything familiar but I come up blank. 

It would be great if I knew how I ended up in a tiny side street in the middle of Japan. Ah! I need to look for a main road. Find people, find help. LOGIC.

I nod my head and gestured my hands forward toward the road in front of me. But when I ask a passerby for directions but they ignore me. On the second try, I talk a bit louder this time and go to another person. That's when I see my reflection in a store window. I have two small horns poking out of my head and black markings all over my arms. 

"Hey! Watch where you're..." Startled, I freeze awestruck that a person just strolled right through me no problem. Stumbling back, I grasp my shoulders, chills creeping all over my body. I catch myself still mystified by what just happened.

I'm not human anymore. 

"You know what, I'll just roam far, far away from people. That did not just happen." I pull my hands down my face and cover my nose and mouth for a moment to regain even a little bit of my sanity.

                                                      ***

Meanwhile at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School at the same time...

"I'mmmmmm back!!" Gojo waves with a huge grin on his face.

"Where were you?" Megumi shoves his hands into his coat pockets.

"I was getting mochi from Hokkaido! It's this new flavor called Strawberry Banana!" Gojo says with a glint in his eye.

"Not more souvenirs..." Megumi sighs.

"They are not souvenirs they are delicious, mouthwatering, savory goodness!!"

"..." Megumi shakes his head in disapproval.

"Itadori, how is your training going?" 

"I've been practicing on a new technique with Kugisaki." Yuji punches straight into the air and brings it back down with a smile.

Gojo stops smiling and stares off into the distance.

"Is something wrong Satoru?" Yuji asks.

It's nothing~." Gojo takes out his phone and calls Nanami.

"What do you want Gojo? I'm busy."

"Hey don't be like that."

*Sigh*

"Actually...Did anything strange happen recently?"

"Unless you mean you calling me then no."

"You wound me Nanami."

"Goodbye."

"Hey! I wasn't done--Ah, he hung up. Maybe it really was nothing." Gojo mumbles. "Anyway...It's time for another mission!" Gojo flashes a toothy grin and finishes off the mochi.

                                                      ***

Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara arrive at an alleyway that is fenced off with "no trespassing" signs.

"Where is Satoru?" Itadori asks.

"He probably has more important things to do." Megumi mentions.

"Should we split up? Stay together?" Nobara says.

"Let's just stay in a group for now." Megumi suggests.

Darkness creeps in as they wander the abandoned alleyway.

"Have we been here long?" Nobara says.

"Why?" Megumi says.

"It's dark already." Nobara stops walking forward.

"But we just got here?"

"You might want to look up." Nobara nods her head toward the sky.

"I'm pretty sure the sun isn't red." Megumi almost loses his footing when glancing up at the red sun.

"Do you think it's a domain?"

"Yes, and we're in the middle of it."

"Help me!" 

"Did you guys hear that?" Itadori says taking a few steps toward the noise.

"Help me!"

"Hear what?" Megumi says swinging his head to assess his surroundings. Then Yuji breaks off from the group further into the maze of streets.

"Itadori, come back!"

Running after Yuji they both get consumed by the darkness.

"Fushiguro! Itadori!" Nobara says.

Darkness closes in around her like ink spilling and blackening every object in the vicinity. When she goes to follow, she gets caught in something.

"What? I can't move my legs." Nobara finds her feet stuck to the ground and struggles to move. Cold breath is on her face. It's a curse. It was an amalgamation of eyes, arms, hands, and teeth. She aims with hammer in hand and hits a few nails at the enemy. But there is no wail of pain, only a wide smile. The curse lands on top of her back and takes a bite out of her shoulder.

"Bastard! Think you can get me while I'm down." Reaching for more nails she realizes one of her hands is stuck in the sticky substance. Her ribcage strains to hold together some breaking from the weight. Frantically she grabs the straw doll, whilst her back is being torn to pieces. 

"Aaah...Can't breathe." With her one free hand she throws the straw doll in front of her. Then she searches her wound for a part of the curse. A tooth. She screams the claws getting closer to her spine. Straining her body to its limits she breaks her other hand free of the slime. 

"It's over." She hits tooth to nail on the straw doll. It gets off her back letting out another wail and slumps over. The slime begins to dissipate and Nobara crawls pushing herself against the wall for support.

The liquid blackness recedes into the shadows of the alley. Blood soaks her wounds and she leans against the wall for support. She hobbles into the dark abyss as she searches for her friends.

                                                          ***

"Help..."

  The desperate cry turns to a whisper as Yuji discerns where it came from. The alleyway becomes an endless stretch of road. It splits off into two paths, left and right. Darting his eyes back and forth he decides left. But a person stops him in his tracks. An outstretched hand seeks his.

"You're safe now." Itadori says reaching out.

*CHOMP*

His once hand is now a stub. Then, he's thrown into a concrete wall. Air is ripped from his lungs as he pushes himself to his feet. That's when he notices a string attached to the human's head. The curse flings the person around like a rag doll. Tearing part of his hood off he stops the bleeding with hand and mouth. He huffs and attempts to keep a calm mind. But when he goes to punch the curse, the human lure is put in front of him again. Not falling for the same trick twice he charges forward getting in a few good punches.

"AAAAAaaaaa...Friend?" The human lure is flung above and big droopy eyes look down at the two. Its mouth is thin yet tall and the teeth appear long. On top it has four red flower petals that sway and a puff of yellow is released from the head.

"Cover your mouth!" Megumi shouts as he makes a wing symbol with his hands. "Rue, go for the source!" The owl shikigami flies to the center of the flower and dives. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaa..." The curse groans as the flower wilts. Yet the owl shikigami is nowhere to be seen. Yuji runs in covering his head with his hood and pummels the curse to a pulp with Divergent Fists. Spores of yellow land and the hood's fabric sizzles. 

"Acid?" Before Yuji can figure out what's happening, the human lure makes a return like a wrecking ball and Yuji smashes through one wall after another. 

While he recovers from the pain Megumi summons his Demon dogs and they leap forward ripping at the curse's body. And Rue rolls out twitching from the burns. 

"You did well."Megumi unsummons the owl shikigami and rushes to the holes where Yuji smashed into.

"Itadori, Itadori! Are you..." Megumi kneels and Yuji gives him a thumbs up. He offers an arm and they walk back to the alleyway.

"You're lucky you're still alive." Megumi sighs.

On the way back something lurks in the shadows eyeing them.

"What is that?!" Megumi startled goes back on guard.

The demon dogs begin their assault leaping into the darkness.

"Wait, wait please don't hurt--ah!" The curse grabs the shikigami's mouth to stop it from biting her but the other comes around and goes in for the kill.

   The curse shoves the shikigami back. The dog skids back claws scratching the concrete and circles their prey. Yuji shoves Megumi away, putting himself between the two and holds the demon dogs back.

"Fushiguro stop, can't you see she isn't doing any harm?" Yuji pleads.

"She is clearly trying to trick us." Megumi doesn't let up and Yuji has no choice but to defend the curse.

"She's not attacking us."

"A curse is a curse."

"Then where does that put me Fushiguro?"

   Yuji maintains his resolve arms spread and holding his ground. Yuji turns his head to get a better look at the "enemy". She appears human except for the horns and eyes like a snake.

"Exorcise them Itadori or I'll do it myself."

*Ring, ring*

Megumi's eyes dart to Yuji's pocket.

"Are you going to pick that up?" He's tempting him to take the call, waiting to get back on the offensive. Yuji gulps as he slowly reaches for his phone taking glimpses at Megumi when he finally answers.

"Hey~. Did you guys finish the mission?"

"We um...encountered a curse that asked for help."

"Never heard of that happening before. I'll be right over." Gojo suddenly appears between Megumi and Yuji.

"Sensei, seriously how do you do that?!" Yuji says in shock.

"I'll explain another time. So, where's this curse?" Gojo puts his hand to his forward like a salute and spins around until his eyes land on the curse cowering behind Yuji.

"What do you think?" Megumi asks.

"Asking for help...huh. What do you think you are human?"

"Yes?"

Gojo laughs wiping a tear from his eye.

"Wow, I did not expect that. Well, I'll be taking them back to Jujutsu High for further investigation."

"Let's go." Gojo grabs the curse and teleports back.

"Wait--"

"He's already gone. Have any idea what he's going to do with her?" Megumi says.

"Nope, I just hope she's still alive by the time we get back." Yuji says.

"Haaaa..haaa..." Nobara shuffles over barely keeping her footing.

"Did you guys exorcise all the curses in the area?"

"Never mind that. What happened to your back?"

"Curse."

"Nobara we need to get you back you've lost too much blood."

"So did you finish?" 

"One left."

"Where's the last one?"

"Gojo took her for interrogation."

"Shit, I don't think I can stand for much longer." Nobara trips and almost loses her balance.

"Nobara!" Both Yuji and Megumi say at the same time rushing over to their friend. 

"Yuji your hand...! Damn, we really need to go back." Megumi sighs.

"I'm alright...it kinda' just happened."

"Just happened? Who the hell says that!" Nobara smacks him upside the head, "Be more careful next time."

"Jeez no need to hit me so hard..."

"You should really get your hand checked...out." Nobara says as she loses consciousness.

"Nobara!" Megumi and Yuji rush over and see her back. The claw marks that stretched across her torso made her back more similar to chopped meat instead of human flesh. Megumi picks Nobara up carrying her on his back.

"Megumi I can help if you want--"

"You're already hurt enough as is. Just focus on getting back."

*BOOM*

A large explosion goes off in the distance and debris rains down. Yuji glances at Megumi with a knowing look.

"Go Yuji, I need to take Nobara back to get treatment."

Yuji nods and runs off toward the explosion. When he reaches the place all he can see is a large open area with rubble everywhere. Small fires linger but not enough to cause major damage. The blast blew through some of the concrete walls piling the rubble together like a rockfall. Metal rods stick out from the floors of buildings and pieces hang where the floor caved in. 

Yuji goes in wandering around looking for the curse that could of done this and he sees something walking around the rubble. Sneaking around Yuji ambushes it and lands a few good hits but has to dodge. Although it doesn't appear to have done much damage. The curse runs forward smiling and tries tearing into Yuji's flesh. Yuji steps back just barely avoiding it. He jumps on the rubble getting a bit further away to assess a plan. But he wasn't fast enough and is punched into the air hacking up blood. The curse leaps and punches Yuji into the ground. Yuji is surrounded by a circle of cracked concrete around him. The curse is laughing at him and thinks the fight is finished and goes to leave.

"Where do you think you're going with my finger?" Sukuna pushes himself off the ground and takes a quick step to do a combination of punches. He ends up healing Yuji's arm in the process. 

"I really need to stop doing that."

The curse is left crushing into wall after wall after wall unable to stop until Sukuna comes up and slices it to pieces. 

"You're not even putting up a fight."

The special grade curse regenerates rapidly and fights Sukuna head on.

"That's more like it." Sukuna says wide eyed enjoying the thrill of the battle. His bloodlust is like a bottomless pit that needs to be filled. He yanks the curse's arms off and opens his domain.

                                                             ***

"You were just like the other one, weak." Sukuna shakes his hand to take off the blood from retrieving his finger.

"Another finger." He smirks as he eats it. 

"Megumi~, Where are you?" He strolls along searching for Megumi when he gets an idea and he snickers to himself.

****A/N: Updates every Friday. This is my first fanfiction and I plan on making this a really slow burn. I hope you enjoy! This story will also be available on Tumblr and AO3. (^w^) Don't forget to make comments and save it to your library!

[masterwords]

a life spills into the flowers

Summary: After the events of "Mr. Scratch", Hotch can't find his keys. It's got him a little messed up.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan (established, and it's only relevant at the very end because I live in a world where they're just together and that's that.)

Warnings: mind-controlling substances, panic, vomit, swearing, canon-typical stuff...if you've seen the Mr. Scratch episode you won't be surprised

Words: 2.5k

Notes: I don't know...I was going to save this for Whumptober or something but it's rambly and I sort of just wanted to post it now. I started thinking about how Peter Lewis took Hotch's weapons and he took his vest off, and Hotch was in that house for a long time semi-conscious...so of course his car keys would be missing and that might make him panic a bit. Anyway, I wrote this all in about an hour, it's just a rambly thing because I can't seem to write anything decent lately but I needed to do something with this idea.

Read on AO3: a life spills into the flowers

**

On knees that wobble like jello he wanders toward the house. Wind is whipping through the trees, whistling strange hymns through well-maintained gutters and over the silken petals of bright pink roses. He is acutely aware of each breath of wind as it gusts over his sweaty brow, each fleck of red and blue light that flickers and screams silent fury into the night sky.

“I need to find my keys,” he mumbles to JJ who is following, hasn't stopped following him since he stepped out of the ambulance with a headache that pounds like a jackhammer with each throb of his pulse. She's right on his heels.

“We can have it towed, Hotch, figure it out in the morning. You need to get home.”

He won't listen, though. Everything is so out of control, the entire scene his fault, and the only thing he can grasp with any firmness is this: his SUV keys are missing. On the front seat, all of his papers have been rifled through, his wallet is right there with his ID front and center, and he's in no frame of mind to take inventory though he's fairly certain nothing is missing. Peter Lewis wouldn't take anything, he would simply record it. Write it down, take a photo, doesn't matter. If he took it, they would know and have a lead, have an idea. This way...there is no way to track what isn't gone.

Except his damn keys. “Maybe Peter Lewis had them,” she says, speeding up to keep pace with his wobbly off-kilter stumbling through the yard and up to the front door. “Hotch, I'll call Derek and see if they find your keys on Lewis when they book him.”

He doesn't respond and she doesn't wait for it, she just makes the call while he enters the house. It's almost the same now as it was when he did it the first time, except he's not holding his gun now, his fists hang at his sides useless and trembling. Reid and Rossi have already gone back to Quantico, Morgan went with the Police as they took Lewis into custody, and JJ...well she said she'd drive Hotch home, but now they're stuck with no keys to the SUV. She's not nearly as concerned as he is.

“Hotch,” she called a minute later while he's arguing with an officer about looking under Dr. Regan's desk. That's where his gun had been, one of them anyway, after the fight and he suspects maybe the keys...

“Hotch, Will said he'd come pick us up. Come on. Let the officers do their jobs. They'll find the keys.”

His eyes are frantic and filled with tears, she can't stand seeing him this way. There is some part of her that wants to pull him in for a hug, tell him she'll help him find the keys because she knows...it isn't really about the keys. He's coming down from whatever drugs he was pumped full of and every bit of reality that seeps in brings more pain and more questions than answers. He was vulnerable for hours, at the mercy of a psychopath, and he has no real memory of it. She can see it all in the tears, but if she gives in now she might do more harm than good. “Come on,” she said, touching his forearm, his sweaty bloody shirt. “Let's go sit outside and wait for Will.”

It's going to be an hour, at least. Even if Will puts on his lights. “You want to walk?” It's a silly question to ask a man who looks like he's barely standing, but he doesn't look like he wants to sit down either. “There's a path through the estate over here. Guess this place has a nice rose garden.” He doesn't answer, he just follows her.

The roses almost glow under the moonlight. He knows they're pink, but they're more than that. They're breathing pulpy red and they're crying neon blue and they're bruise purple, all the same colors as he is. And then those deep green leaves cascade black like pools of blood in the moonlight. He can't stop thinking about his keys. No matter what path his mind tries to take him down it never winds far enough away from that one thought. Where are my keys? The keys mean freedom, they mean home. Without them he's trapped here.

JJ knows she should use this opportunity to ask him questions and she has the time. It feels wrong, the way his skin is pale and gray and sweaty, the way his hands shake, to put him through more but he would insist if it were anyone else. Insist that now was the time. When clarity was seeping in, when adrenaline was fading. “I know you talked to Rossi in the ambulance,” she started, pausing to peer into a wide open rose. “Is there anything else you can remember? Do you want to talk?”

“No,” he whispered back, his legs coming to a full stop. He blinks back the tears and rubs his fingers against his burning eyes. Whatever Lewis sprayed him with made his eyes hurt, they were dry and burned like fire beneath salty tears. “I don't know. JJ, I don't know if anything I say is true.”

“Let me figure that out. Why don't you just tell me things. Anything you want. Empty it out.”

He lets out a chuckle and wipes more tears from his lashes. “It's funny. The way they described it in the interrogation room...it sounded like Lewis put the ideas in their heads. But that isn't...it's not...they were all my ideas. I think he just asked me questions knowing I couldn't lie to him.”

She couldn't hide her frown. “What do you mean he asked you things?”

“Like,” he stares vaguely into some distance but he isn't looking at anything she can see. His trembling hand reaches up and wipes the sweat from his forehead. “A therapist. He asked me about my life. He asked me if anything...” he can't finish the sentence. He can't tell JJ about Roy, but that's new, he couldn't remember that when he was talking to Rossi. Lewis asked him about recent problems he's been having. “Any problems at home?” It was so casual, like he had a right to know.

He told Lewis all about Roy and his dementia. He told him about the things that Roy said, and suddenly Roy was standing there in front of him with a gun aimed at his forehead. You took my baby girl from me. I gave her to you, and you promised to protect her and you lied. Roy's gun was cold against his forehead, smashed there, he could feel it. You killed her.

“He didn't make me see things. I did that. He just listened.” The revelation comes with wide eyes sparkling in the night. “He guided me through the images.” Before he can say anything else, he feels the cold of that gun again and drops to his knees, dry heaving painfully into the perfectly manicured grass. JJ stays back, she wants to touch him, to comfort him, but he's trembling like a scared animal and she isn't sure she can trust him yet.

He's not himself.

“Can you tell me what you told him?”

“No.” He can, but he won't. “It doesn't matter. He's in custody,” he gasps around wretches and pulls himself up to sitting, hands planted flat against his thighs. “I didn't hurt anyone. His plan didn't work.” He's not so sure about that, but he needs JJ to believe it. He needs her to stop asking questions. You don't know what I did to him...I win. She can't let that go, can't stop thinking about it. It was what made her stay behind with him, why Derek asked that it be her...they didn't want to tell anyone else what Lewis said or how it had scared them.

He thinks about Roy and the gun, about what Roy said to him over pizza just nights before and what the ghost of Roy told him with a gun to his head. Roy's eyes, so full of fury and hate, and he's not surprised to find that he wishes it hadn't just been a mirage. If that gun had been real, if Roy had the nerve to do what he wanted to do...

Derek walks up behind them and places his hand on Hotch's back, right between his shoulder blades, startling them both. “Hey,” he says, crouching. “Found your keys. They were in the bag with his personal belongings. Swears he has no idea how they got there. Dude's a lying sack of shit. You ready to get outta here?”

JJ looks at Derek warily and makes a face, a sort of back off he's being a little weird face, and Derek drags his hand up and down the ridges of Hotch's spine in defiance. He's not worried, he's pretty sure he could take Hotch in his prime and this is definitely not his prime. “Jessica said she'd stay with Jack tonight, Will just pulled up to get JJ...come on. You're stuck with me.”

They ride home in silence. It's a long ride with only the purr of the engine and the roar of the tires turning over slick rainy asphalt. Hotch rests his temple against the cool glass window, lets his eyes close and sees Roy who becomes Sean in a faded blue jumper blaming him for not getting him out of his charges, getting his sentence reduced. I'll die in here and it'll be your fault, Sean said to him and it freezes his veins to ice. My best years behind bars because you care more about your job than my life. My brother's a FED, you know what they're gonna do to me? Sean wouldn't say that, it's only his guilty conscience, he knows that. Probably why that one faded so quickly, even Peter Lewis could see through it. But Roy, that one stuck. That one came back, and when Roy became Jack but the words were the same...you killed her, it's your fault she's dead...he figured it out. That was when he realized how in control of these visions he was, even under the influence. He'd allowed Roy, but he wouldn't allow Jack to be part of the game.

“I forced myself to see you guys,” he whispers, his lips barely moving. His stomach flops, and he thinks he's going to be sick again. “When I realized what he was doing. I knew what he wanted...and I thought about the victim who killed himself instead of his child...and I...” Made myself see you guys? See you all be killed one by one? It sounds awful, and he's not sure how to say it so that it sounds any less terrible than it is. But he watched that bullet sink right into Derek's throat, tasted his blood, he saw it all and couldn't shake it.

“I knew it,” came Derek's reply, one hand fluttering like raven wings away from the steering wheel and coming to roost on Hotch's thigh. “I knew you figured it out. Rossi's story, it didn't make any sense. Why would us dying be your worst fear? Your deepest fear? Nah, I knew there was more to it...”

“I am afraid of that,” Hotch counters, quieter, almost too quiet for Derek to hear over the white noise of the car. Defensive and breathy. Still hovering so close to tears. “I'm always afraid that I'll make a mistake and it'll cost one of you your lives. It wouldn't be the first time. Roy said it himself. I make a mistake, people die. It was an easy fear to conjure...”

“Yeah, but,” Derek starts, but he's well aware that he's treading in dangerous waters and he stops. He squeezes Hotch's thigh instead. “I get it.” He does. He does get it, he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to Haley. It was on his watch, not Hotch's, no matter what anyone tries to tell him. They don't talk about it.

Derek's street is dark, the lamps pale and muddled by overgrown oak trees. It's quiet, serene, none of the city sounds dare step into this peace. The shadows melt and move and shift beneath his feet and Hotch is mesmerized as his shadow slides like oil slick into the shadow of a tree and for a brief moment they are one. “You hungry?” Derek asks in a casual tone, as if this is a social call. As if it's date night. “I'm starving.”

He's not sure if he's hungry or if he could eat, he just follows Derek up the steps to his door and slides inside with uneasy steps. Clooney meets them at the door and Hotch crouches right away, just drops to his knees and wraps his arms around Clooney's neck and scratches behind his floppy old dog ears. There are tears in Clooney's fur, it sticks to his cheeks. Clooney moves slow these days, he's old and arthritic but he still likes to trot along beside Derek every morning before they eat breakfast, he still makes sure to greet Derek every time he comes home with his tail whacking the wood floor loud and thumpy. Hotch and Clooney's relationship is something Derek hasn't ever really understood but he leaves them to it and heads right for the kitchen. They know what they're doing. So does he.

He needs a beer and some food. When he's finished slapping together a quick sandwich and popping the top off of his second bottle of beer (the first went down a little too easy after the day he had), he makes his way out to the front room to find Hotch and Clooney sleeping on the couch. Hotch, still in his clothes, arms folded tight across his chest and hands tucked in tight. His feet still in shoes hang off the end of the couch (always polite), and Clooney snores curled up behind his knees.

It's a sight. One he's still not tired of, even after all this time.

He turns on the TV and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, eating his midnight dinner all alone to the quiet jokes and explosions of M*A*S*H

“Life, liberty and the pursuit of happy hour...” Derek says under his breath, raising his bottle to the television. He knows the quiet of this moment isn't likely to last, but the frosty foam of the beer in his bottle is worth savoring.

[jackienautism]

In the prologue when Max and Laura and checking the car and talking about "curling up next to a big ol firepit" you get a very brief five second shot of someone watching them from behind a tree and if you listen really closely you can hear them breathing. It's implied the thing on the road was Silas so I assume he must've dipped after almost dying for the nth time and probably wanted to check if they were okay before leaving. But it's 12 AM in-game + Eliza has no reason to sound out of breath so can Silas just not kill people for six hours? Doesn't this completely shatter the whole "we need to cure X tonight" bs if the werewolves can do that? It'd explain why we don't hear shit about skinny bears with albinism killing people at night but it's still odd given that everyone turns immediately after being fully infected. (Maybe it's cuz he's the only NPC with critical thinking skills)

yeaaah i always took that the like. whole little intro thing where we're going through all the trees and forest and stuff? i always took that as being from silas' (or at the very least. another werewolf) pov due to how erratic the camera movements were. meaning yeah, that definitely was silas checking laura and max out from behind a tree. why he didn't straight up attack them though, i dont know

i believe silas mustve been already turned by the time they almost hit him? because for the full moon in august (where the bulk of the game takes place) its a bit after 9:00 when abi and nick encounter the first werewolf. and since it was a full moon when laura nd max went to camp, 12 AM is definitely well past the transforming point i suppose

and just like. based on that and the following confrontations, it SEEMS that werewolves attack without second thought. so, you're right, why doesnt silas attack them in the prologue as theyre checking out the van's damage? why does it take chris so long to actually attack max in the storm shelter? why didn't he go for laura instead, seeing that he was constantly closer to her? so many things contradict one another and just. man. id ont know fjkdgdg

i think they say we need to cure whoever tonight due to what the poem told them (whose information also comes out of nowhere, i dont understand why we're supposed to just accept that the poem appeared out of travis' asshole). i dont know why exactly but it MUST be a full moon to successfully cure someone infected, meaning they can't do it during the day or on another night. and i assume they wanna cure X that night because if not they'd have to wait another whole month and i assume it'd be a bit unpleasant knowing that you'll turn into a mindless deadly creature once more

im terribly sorry if this is FAR from what you were telling me, im tired rn and a little dense nd stupid. so if you wanna clarify if i didn't really answer what you were saying, please feel free! im always down to talk and stuff, thank you for sending something in in the first place though :]

[edisacornball]

I spent way too long on this. Because I'm the perfect intersection of nerd who likes looking at numbers and also can't leave anything concerning graphic design alone, apparently.

But I figured that if I spent the time to make this, I might as well upload a blank version in case there's anyone else out there wishing for an AO3 summary of their year like Spotify does, lol.

If you're new to AO3, you'll be able to find a lot of these numbers if you go to your "Statistics" page. For the other ones, you can go to your "Works" page, then use the "Date Updated" filter to only allow anything updated/published within 2022. Then you can look around through the filtering to see which are your most used tags, fandoms, etc. It's up to you whether you want to stick to purely statistics or go with the answer you know is right in your heart no matter what the numbers say. Have fun!

PS - This one is more focused on writers because that tends to be where I most want to see my numbers, but I would totally be open to making a second one focused on reading if there's demand. I still tried to make it so the questions were as open as possible so that you could hopefully interpret it as writing and/or reading!

(I'm going to add an image description to each of these pictures, but if you would like to copy and paste my descriptions for your own post, I'm going to include it under the cut to make it easier.)

[Image Description: A deep red background the same color as the AO3 logo. There is a snowy ground with snow falling and white text. On the first and last images, there is a black silhouette of a tree. 

1:  ___________'s Ao3 Wrapped 2022 This year's writing motto/focus:

2:  You may have been a little obsessed with... (Your favorite fandom) Especially if it was about... (your favorite tropes/tags) with an honorable mention to...

3:  The character that was always there for you: Underneath is a box with a black frame for an image of a character.  #1 BFF Relationship:  Couple of the Year Award:  Chaos Duo Extraordinaire: (Either it's chaotic to even picture these two together, or you just love the chaos they get into around each other.)

4:  Wait, you wrote how many words??? Here's a few more numbers from the year to impress yourself with:  Hits:  Kudos:  Comment Threads:  # of Fics Written: 

5:  And the crowd goes wild!  An image of an olympic-style podium, with awards for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place. Your most popular fics this year (But this one will always secretly be your favorite) Underneath is an arrow pointing towards blank space on the right side of the image. 

6:  Record Breakers There are four boxes with black frames, labeled, "First Posting, Last Posting, Longest Fic, and Shortest Fic." At the bottom of each box is space for a date or word count. 

7: What a great year of writing! Here's hoping that you enjoy next year just as much! Any goals for next year?  Underneath is a black frame with blank space inside for writing. 

End ID.]

[thegeminisage]

BACK AT IT (playing zelda even tho i might be sick & should probably go to bed)

im gonna see if i cant get one last lightroot tree while im down here, since i have it marked...then i am way past ready for the surface again lol

okay wait no actually it's right next to a chasm...UUUGH but maybe i should get there via underground...life is too hard!!!

might as well go underground, maybe i'll find more bombflowers. i can't stomach the thought of leaving and coming right back. once im out im OUT for awhile

oh. ohhh no. i found the frog boss again :(

am i strong enough???? i doubt it, but...i can't just never go past it...i've walked all this way........

IM SOOOOO SCARED I DONT WANNA 😭😭😭

oh it has a rock on its back like a talus but a big eye like a hinox...................

THIS MF JUST ATE ME????? HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh god oh god oh god at least hes not one shotting me i guess!!!!!!!!

omg i GOT HIM...he was actually super easy. ive been avoiding these dudes for ages, so maybe ive just run across the same one so many times and became overleveled

omg i found ANOTHER yiga at this lightroot lol

from here i can see another tree soooo close by...so tempting.......

well what the hell. ive been here all day whats 5 more minutes

immediately spots ANOTHER one when i start walking...man, i can't quit

oh geez i got ambushed :( id be dead without sidon and tulin...

oooh i see a hinox in the distance... Am I Feeling Brave

actually it's not on my way and i[m ready to leave so no i'm not

i see a construct in the distance, a big one i think, from the height of the red light, or maybe it flies,but i'm not at all ready to fight it lol. i'm grabbing some poes and leaving before i see anything else cool

i was gonna mark the construct on my map but after i moved to get the poes i couldn't see it anymore >:( okay NOW i'm leaving!!!!!! fuck the underground!!!!

[lunarflare64]

what music do you recommend?

That's a little difficult to answer. I like everything, but also I'm insanely picky, I hate music apps like Spotify because the algorithms can't understand me, and them getting it wrong makes me grumpy

But, inconsistent music taste aside, I do have more electronic stuff than anything else in my music hoard, and the one genre that has more hits than misses is electroswing, Jamie Berry for a lot of it, but plenty of other artists are in my collection too

I've been finding more and more artists I consistently like lately too, which has been nice. I like Billie Eilish a fair bit, as well as BoyWithUke, Alec Benjamin, T!LT, Mystery Skulls, Poor Man's Poison, Porcupine Tree, NEFFEX, Citizen Soldier, and NF, and FiASKO is the newest addition to the lot

The one artist I've liked the longest is actually SharaX, I've been a fan of hers since before she got into Undertale mixes. I remember waiting back in the day, during the prime of Undertale's popularity, wondering if SharaX would take a crack at the OST, and then the popularity started to die and I shrugged and moved on, and then BOOM, Undertale mixes for the next six years straight with no signs of stopping

I'm sorta in between songs right now, I have phases where a bunch of new songs are added to my hoard, and then phases where I'm not really vibing with anything specific, which can be a bummer, but I can list the songs from my last big phase! (I'd link them or a playlist but Tumblr has a limit on youtube links and I don't do public playlists. Don't like that shit. Hate it, in fact.)

(This'll be in order of when they were added so you can see when I started focusing on specific vibes at certain points)

Fan Behavior - Isaac Dunbar

GUY.exe - Superfruit

Can I Get A Witness - SonReal

Stunnin' - Curtis Waters

Sail Away - Lovelytheband

Things I Thought Were Mine - Alfie Templeman

Bones - Imagine Dragons

Don't Care Crown - Fox Stevenson

Boys - Lizzo

Sweet Tooth - Scott Helman

Girls In Bikinis - Poppy

Yoiyoi Kokon - Reol

Onion Boy - Isaac Dunbar

Gazpacho - Orange Culture (you know that one tiktok that goes around here occasionally, the one where the lead singer lost their voice and they had to improvise? And it was actually good even though it was just the guy talking about how he went and bought watermelon sour patch kids? Same dudes)

Demon Mode - Stileto

E GiRLS ARE RUiNiNG MY LiFE - Corpse (FiASKO REMiX)

THE MAiN CHARACTER (ULTiMATE) - FiASKO

DUBSTEP NEVER DiE - Blaqout X Whiskers (FiASKO REMiX)

HAUNTED - Laura Les (FiASKO REMiX)

SHiNSO (CRiCKETS GO) - FiASKO

HENTAi iN A CASKET (DEAD) - FiASKO

BUiLD A BiTCH - Bella Poarch (FIASKO REMiX)

DREAM ARCHiTECT - FiASKO

CLUBROCKiN (GET iT POPPiN) - FiASKO x RAGE-BOT

PHOTO iD - Remi Wolf (FiASKO REMiX)

STEREO GHOST (WHiSPER) - FiASKO

INSANE - FiASKO x TADROS x OMMIN

Haunt - FiASKO x Brandon Scott

ADHD - Silent Child (even if I have to correct the guy at the self deprecating parts because that's not my energy and I can't let it slide)

Sleepwalk - Forrest Day

Invaders Must Die - The Prodigy

Stand Up - The Prodigy

1,000,000 - Nine Inch Nails

Little Darkness - TuXe (Cult of the Lamb) (I wouldn't bother following this guy though, I ditched his channel because he sees no issue with playing and creating stuff for the Harry Potter game)

Yes I'm aware I could have bundled the FiASKO songs together, but you've gotta admit, seeing the list go ooooon like that is just fucking funny, you can SEE the way I lost my shit over them for a long period of time