#knowing myself i will Not stick with it very long but its fun so far !

[ragingbullmode]

going to try & start a lil journal for like. writing down things & experiences that i enjoyed + how i was feeling adhd + autism wise 🫰😁

[ksyongi]

pairing: seventeen!hhu x fem!reader

genre: suggestive, fluff, smut, kissy kissy romance

warnings: smut, cursing, kissing, pet names, mentions of other members

wc approx: 1,750

minors DNI

m.list

req: "can you do one where they get very touchy and want to do more than make out but you prank them into playfully not being interested atm and move around a lot and they follow you around bc they know you are faking it and can’t resist it." @kookluvsu

an: decided to play around with this req!!! i took forever to finish this, sorry for the long wait!

seungcheol: you know he wants it by the way he was looking at you since you arrived. the only problem was that he couldn't have you there and then since you were in the practice room with the rest of the members. the way you were using his sweater and how its so big on you made him have to calm himself down. what a great time to trigger his size kink. so he did not waste a second of their break. he pulled you into one of the storage closets, no security cameras in sight. "finally can have you to myself." his eyelids flutter shut, capturing your lips in a kiss. he was so desperate that he was kissing you with such force and neediness. you knew you didn't have much time to even do a quickie before the guys come around to find you. seungcheol's hands were already fiddling with the hem of the sweater you had on before you had to push them off. you raise an eyebrow at him, "let's not do this alright love?" he opens his mouth to interrupt, knowing damn well you want this as much as him. "but-" "no, no but's." his lips form a pout, he swears if he places his fingers on your wet heat, you'd be soaked. fine. he'll play your stupid game. he dragged himself back to the practice room, untucking his shirt to cover the visible tent in his pants. you could see the hidden pain in his face, trying to keep his expression neutral. you giggled to yourself, ignoring the look he shot you. you could say you were surprised when they cut short the practice because the instructor had to run off somewhere..so sudden after seungcheol had a word with him..weird. you honestly wanted to have more fun with seungcheol, but you had to be thanking your lucky stars that he hasn't snapped yet. in honest fact, him possibly bribing the instructor was one of the things that you expected him to do. he was all back to normal now, seeing him wave to his members as you were leaving. so how could you not have expected him to recline his chair back, and go into the back seats of his car, that he re-parked at a hidden corner in the carpark. "come here sweetheart, you asked for it." he mumbled, tearing your brand new lingerie off you. "that was a new one.." you gasp, holding the piece of fabric in your hands, "i can buy you a new one. would you hurry up? i'm getting fucking impatient now."

wonwoo: one arm on the gear stick, the other one on your thigh. he was pulling you close but the middle console was preventing him from doing so. his lips were planted on yours. you could feel his hot breath on yours, the car getting warmer and the windows started to fog up. his tongue swiped on your bottom lip and you instantly granted him access. suddenly your phone started ringing. you could hear a small whine come from him. you pulled away, far enough so he cannot chase your lips anymore. you look at the contact lit up on your screen. you'd usually ignore calls outside of work but just to tease wonwoo, you decided to answer it, especially because its his friend. “hey josh! what’s up?” joshua’s words become a blur when wonwoo’s hand started moving towards your clothed entrance. “josh, could you give me a sec? i gotta do something real quick.” you don’t wait for him to respond before muting your side of the call. “control yourself woo.” “why would i when my girlfriend has dressed up so pretty for me? so pretty for me to ruin?” he whispers. you could feel your undergarments get soaked and your pussy start to throb. you simply just continue the call with joshua after no more words had to be said. wonwoo pressed two fingers on the wet material, making a small moan come from you. "hey, you okay?" joshua asked, voiced full of concern. "yeah, just not feeling well..fuck..." you glare at wonwoo to be met with a pair of innocent doe eyes. you roll your eyes at him, and you're met with a harsh slap to your clit, one that makes you have to suppress a moan. "watch it brat." wonwoo grits. you brush him off and continue the call with joshua. wonwoo hooks his fingers around the band of your lace underwear, pushing it aside and inserting two fingers into your wet entrance. a really sinful sounding moan arose when he started pumping his two digits in you. "yeah...i think you should get some rest y/n, i'll talk to you tomorrow." you knew for a fact joshua was red on the other side of the line. "yeah will do josh, bye." and with that you end the call and drop your phone. "fuck woo.." "gosh..that took forever" he dramatically sighs, putting his chin on his free hand and increasing the speed of the other one in you. he watched you chase your release with an amused smile. "y-you better apologize to josh tomorrow. you manage to choke out. he clicks his tongue, "we'll see about that."

mingyu: making two cups of noodles? no. making out while the boiled water slowly turns cold? yes. you'd also decided to take the chance to prank mingyu, something stupid jeonghan asked you to do at your previous gathering, be uninterested. but the way his crotch was rubbing on your pants made it 100x harder. mingyu took your bottom lip and started sucking on it at the slightest made you let out a soft moan. your hands grabbing his pecks to stabilize yourself. his hands started to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, you knew damn well where this was leading to. you're pulled apart by the low grumble from mingyu's stomach. you shake your head, "you idiot. lets eat." he shakes his head furiously, "no i'll be fine, we can eat after." thats where your prank is perfectly laid out. "no gyu, control yourself." he sulks and puts on the biggest pout he could. you'd kiss it away usually but for the sake of the prank, you cant. you can see his shoulders slump as he re-boils the water, then turning around in a huff and looking at you with the most pleading eyes ever. you feel the guilt pang in your chest but you shake your head and walk away, just getting as far as possible before you give in. you hear feet shuffle behind you and you're met with the sight of your boyfriend looking all like a sad puppy. you put a finger on his chest and push him away, "just cook the ramen gyu. the faster you do it, the faster we can do whatever we want." his eyes light up at the thought and he's shuffling back to the kitchen. of course you want to prank your boyfriend further and play dumb. you're done with the meal and mingyu finished even faster of course. so now he's giving you that look ; the look when he is horny and wants to just rail you. mingyu knows you want it too. you're just playing one of your stupid tricks. mingyu's next move surprises you. he hovers over you, his head dipping so his mouth is at the shell of your ear. "i know you want me to just take you here on the couch right now. how about you be a good girl and stop this act of yours right now. i'll be nice to you and fuck you well and rough if you listen." and with that, you're pushing him back down, hands finding his hair as his find your hips. you press your lips against his, not wasting any more time. "who gave you this idea princess?" he asks between breathers. "jeonghan," you quickly respond before going back to kiss him. his eyes roll at your response. he'd have to have a word with jeonghan afterwards.

vernon: he was stuck in the study the whole day. and it was getting on your nerves. you didn't expect him to come out anytime sooner so you decided to get some sort of entertainment by pranking him and getting him needy at the same time. killing two birds with one stone. the door was tilted slightly and he could be seen sitting at the desk, computer in front of him and headphones plugged in. his eyes darted to the door the second you pushed it open. "hey babe," he smiles, tilting his laptop screen down. "all done for today?" you place your hands on the table, leaning forward puckering your lips asking for a kiss, which he complies with, giving you a short sweet peck. "almost, just need to add in some final touches." you smile at his answer, happy to finally have him to yourself soon. the prank almost slipped your mind. you slide yourself into his lap, his hands automatically resting on your hips. you grabbed his shirt, pulling him in, you could feel him get hard underneath you. he pulled you close, his hands shifted to grope your ass, a groan arose from your throat snapping you out of your trance. "well, better finish that piece you're working on, don't wanna disturb you." lifting yourself off him, his hands stay on your waist. vernon is not usually vocal, so he had a confused frown on his face. you quickly flee, leaving a flustered vernon behind you. well you had to compose yourself but he didn't give you much time before trudging out of the room, his eyes scanning all the rooms for you. his eyes landed on yours, he dragged his feet towards you, his expression not wavering since you last saw him. he pulled your sweater, acting all clingy all of a sudden, "don't you have to finish that piece you've been working on this whole afternoon?" you sigh, hands refusing to touch him before you just jump at him. "well it's fine, i can finish it some other time." his voice slightly suggesting something you both know damn well what it was. "you sure bout' that?" you tease, eyes never moving. "because you seemed like you wanted to finish it and-" vernon cuts you off, "just kiss me already...please." he whispers. you're taken aback, but you instantly let your body melt against his.

[sarahowritesostucky]

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: ptsd, trauma recovery, kink negotiations, fetishes, fantasies, body modification, objectification, degradation, self-harm, destructive sexual urges, heavy bdsm, bondage, 24/7 D/s, dom Steve, sub Bucky, sadism, masochism, castration fantasy, dark comedy, oddly sweet relationship dynamics (idiots in love)

Summary: Steve and Bucky reach a compromise, but Bucky's got "some work to do" to prove to Steve that he deserves his treat.

🖤Disclaimer: Nobody gets castrated or otherwise body-modified in this fic, okay? It's Steve and Bucky, kink negotiating and sceneing w/ regards to Bucky's very strange fantasies.

Wait! I haven't read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 yet!

Part 4 - Back to that Morning, Months and Months Later, When Steve Finds Out What Bucky Wants to do to His Dick:

Bucky sits on the floor and chews his lip with big eyes, staring down at Steve’s phone. The options he’s currently salivating over are all piercings. Specifically, genital piercings—something he’s gone googly eyed over for a long time, now. Steve’s finally worked up the nerve to consider it, and he’s giving Bucky options because:

1. He really does adore him and just wants to make him happy in every possible way. 2. He needs to positively reinforce Bucky’s streak of expressing his wants and asking permission for things. 3. He knows that Bucky getting in a car crash and losing his dick isn’t a realistic fear. 4. He’ll be forever–ever–ever grateful that Bucky did not sneak off and get his nuts removed, way back when.

Bucky grips Steve’s phone and swipes back and forth between all the pictures, looking like Christmas is about to come early.

“Jesus,” he mutters, and Bucky’s eyes flick up to him, amused, before returning to the phone. Steve fights not to fidget. “So … Which one do you like?” he asks, anxious about it. In the seventy or so years since he went into the ice, humanity has devoted—in Steve’s opinion—far too many of its collective brain cells to inventing a myriad of ways in which to stick needles in dicks. Human beings are remarkably creative, remarkably fucked up creatures. Steve’s in love with exhibit A.

He sits there and watches Bucky’s reactions, wary of the fact that he’s probably going to choose the most extreme option. Suddenly, Steve wishes he hadn’t given him all the choices. “Um,” he clears his throat nervously. “I like the fourth one. In terms of, ah, aesthetics.” Bucky looks up at him, and Steve nods. “Yeah. That one’s … that one’s my favorite” (‘favorite’ is a loose term here — it doesn’t involve sticking a needle through the head of one’s dick, so: ‘favorite’).

Bucky surprises him by agreeing right away, but then he gets a devious look on his face and amends, “Oh, but maybe I could do a couple of ‘em.”

“What.”

“Yeah! Like number one and number four,” that’d be fun. Bucky grins and snickers about it. “Shit. I’ve never been so glad my ma kicked the mohel out.”

Steve cringes as he’s hit with an odd combination of mental images—freshly circumcised babies and Bucky’s grown-ass dick, pierced to smithereens. “We can talk about it,” he says, voice coming out a little weak.

You look like you’re gonna throw up,” Bucky observes dryly.

“Yeah well. What can I say? I don’t feel the urge to go poking holes in myself.” Steve shakes his head as Bucky just continues to smile placidly. What has he gotten himself into? he wonders, amused. Oh well, at least he’s gotten Bucky off the idea of stuffing freaking pearls into his dick. He holds his hand out for Bucky to give him the phone back, then slides it into his pocket with a sigh when he does. “Get up,” he orders, loving and long-suffering. “Go pick out a pighole and lie face down on the bed. You’ve got a lot of work to do if you want me to take you out this weekend for any one of those god awful—”

“This weekend!?!” Bucky all but shrieks. He jumps to his feet and shouts, “Steve! I love you!” then scampers away to go get his pighole.

About an hour later:

Steve pulls back with a gasp, too close to the edge to risk staying inside, and wanting to stave it off. He kneels back in the sheets and looks down to where he just had his cock buried. The obscene gape that greets him makes him groan and curse lowly. “Fuuck. Look at that.” He can actually see his previous two loads, pooled deep up in Bucky’s ass, because Bucky’s got the pighole in and it’s holding him open and making him into the easiest, most useful fuck-object Steve could ever want to put his dick in. “Such a good cocksleeve, honey,” he praises, because he knows Bucky loves to hear shit like that (and, okay, maybe Steve doesn’t exactly hate saying it either).

True to form, Bucky groans and squirms, not moving from where Steve’s got him ass up and face down on the bed.

Steve grips himself hard, staring into that filthy abyss. “God.” He taps the length of his dick against the rubber rim of the plug, where it’s all but turning Bucky into a fleshlight for his enjoyment. “Wish you could see this, Baby. Fuck. Mmm.” He squeezes his dick, presses the head hard against the lip of the plug and watches as precum oozes out over black rubber. The sight takes his breath away. “Jesus,” he curses quietly, licking his dry lips. “I don’t think I’m even gonna put it back inside, you know that? M’ just gonna jerk off right here, like this.” He works his hand in a tight ring underneath the head of his cock. “Put it in you that way. Won’t even have to aim much, will I? Mm mn. You’re so fuckin’ open.”

He jerks off a little more while staring at Bucky’s wide open asshole, only pausing when his balls give another dangerous spasm, threatening to end his fun. He gathers saliva in his mouth while he waits it out, aims and lets it drip down to join the white of his cum. “Holy shit,” he whispers, watching it hit the pighole and slide in. “Oof, buddy, you’re killin’ me.”

“M’not even doin’ anything,” Bucky rasps, in something that might’ve been sass, if he wasn’t so far gone already.

Steve scoffs and grips an asscheek while he jerks himself, fingers digging into the fat and muscle, then lets go and watches his fingermarks fade from white, to pink, to nothing. He can’t stop himself from smacking it, then, swatting his entire handprint onto one cheek and watching it jiggle. “Best ass in the western hemisphere,” he murmurs. “Should smack it cherry red.” Not that it would last, but he knows Bucky would appreciate it.

He says as much, making a dumb, happy noise into the bed where he’s bent over in front of him. Steve smiles. He grabs the bulge of Bucky’s balls and his caged cock, drawing the handful back between his thick thighs. “And how’re we doin’?” he asks cheerfully, giving Bucky’s collective junk a shake. With his dick kept soft (or mostly soft, anyways) inside the cage, Steve can’t gauge it as well as he otherwise could. All he has to go on are Bucky’s moans and shivers and how fucked out he’s acting. With the plug in, Steve doesn’t even have the feedback of his asshole clenching and fluttering around him—sex toys don’t squeeze back, after all.

A glance down shows that his balls are pulled up tight, but Bucky’s always super responsive like that. Steve swats them harshly a few times while he gives himself another slow, tight stroke. “Fuck,” he whispers, eyes sliding covetously over the gorgeous slope of Bucky’s back. He wants to run his hands all over that smooth, tanned skin; wants to savour it and drag his lips everywhere he goes. He wants to dig his fingers into those fat hips and fuck in and in and in, until the backs of his eyelids go technicolored and he’s emptied of everything he has to give.

But he’s already done that twice in the past hour, so he’s trying to stave it off.

“Sir,” Bucky croaks, voice muffled from where his head is turned on the mattress, metal fist clenched and pulling the bedsheets into his face. Unlike Steve, he hasn’t come yet. Because he’s “earning” it. He squirms restlessly, back muscles shifting under the skin. “Please, please, c’mon.”

Steve slaps his ass again, though it isn’t harsh by any means. For Bucky it’s practically a love tap. “Please what?” he goads. He spits into his asshole again, just so that Bucky can hear him doing it, and in counterpoint he speaks gently, “‘Please’ what, baby? Hm?” He waits, but Bucky doesn’t seem capable of much more than little sniveling, fucked-out sounds; ‘Sir’s, and the occasional grunt or gasp when Steve hits him. Steve smiles at the dark mop of his hair that’s covering his face, in love. “‘Please’ … what?” He sticks one finger into his hole, not touching. There’s actually enough room that he can hold it there, inside, and still not have it be touching anything. And that in itself is obscene, like he’s touching a wound, like he’s reaching into someplace that isn’t meant to ever be exposed. He can feel the heat of Bucky’s body all around. “Come on,” he coaxes, mock–sweetly. “You can tell me.”

“Nnnh.”

“What’s this nasty hole need?” he purrs. “Mm?

Bucky seems to realize that Steve’s actually waiting for an answer, and responds with a slurred string of begging: “Please … Ss-sir. You, you. I need you. I do, oh, please, I … I need—”

“I?” Steve mocks, letting go of his cock to grab both asscheeks and pull them apart. He lets another fat wad of spit drip from his mouth down to its target. “What’s ‘I’? I’m not fucking an ‘I’.”

“Oh. I … ” Bucky’s breath stutters out of him in a broken moan. “Oh, Ss-teve,”

“Aw, Sweetheart, you’re confused,” Steve coos, chuckling, voice like velvet over top of razor wire. He leans over Bucky fully—hips to ass, chest to back, forearms braced to either side of those broad and mismatched shoulders—so that he can be intimately close when he purrs, “You think I’m fucking ‘you’, Baby?”

“Mmn, ooh … nno,” he moans.

>Steve kisses the shell of his ear, then whispers, “Tell me what I’m fuckin’.”

Bucky is hazy by this point—strung out on whatever it is that fills up those nooks and crannies in his mind, those fucked-up spaces that can only be intoxicated when he’s in pain or when Steve treats him like this—so it takes him a minute. Steve can’t see his face, but he can hear him licking his lips and swallowing a couple of times, can hear him struggling as he wades through the thick soup of his own thoughts before he manages to rasp, “This hole.” He sounds high, like he’s in love, like he’s about to wither and die, or come.

Steve hums in approval and kisses the spot just in front of his ear, where he can feel the emerging dampness of sweat. Even though he’s doing most of the work, it has been a while of this: teasing and taunting, slipping in and holding still, fucking Bucky just enough to make him really start to want it, then pulling out. Steve’s balls feel like they’ve been beat up in a back alley, and he just wants to come again. He pushes back to kneeling and reaches for the lube. “Exactly right,” he praises, flicking the cap open. He proceeds to squirt a disgusting amount directly into Bucky’s ass, squeezing the bottle hard on purpose to make sure it squelches loudly. “So,” he coos, mockingly sweet and patient, “What do you think this hole needs?” He guides his cock back home, pushing in slow, the seal of the pighole creating luxurious suction and filthy noises as he buries himself in Bucky again. “Oh baby,” he groans. “Fuck. You hear that? You hear the sounds it’s making?”

“fuck”—Another one of those tiny, tight little ‘fucks’ that Steve relishes so much. Bucky’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, face down and ass up on the bed, dark hair all over the pillow, floating in snot and subspace, whining and crying every time Steve isn’t actively inside his body (and even sometimes when he is). “S’it good?” he slurs, the words mashed into the bedding. Other than Steve’s name and nonsensical gobbledygook, it’s the only real unprompted thing he’s been capable of saying for the past ten minutes at least; asking Steve if he’s good, begging and pleading to be good. “Please, Steve … I’m good, m’good, ff-feels so good—”

“Shhhh.” Steve fucks in all the way and grinds his hips against the meat of Bucky’s ass. “Yes, Honey. It’s so fucking good. S’the fucking best. Best thing I’ve ever had.” He pets a soothing hand down the center of Bucky’s back as he rolls his hips in deep, hard strokes, fucking him steady again. “You’re so good at this, such a good hole for me. Doin’ exactly what you’re s’posed to do. Lettin’ me feel your insides, takin’ it all.”

Bucky sobs. “I am, I am,”

Steve hushes him. “You are, baby. Doing so well. Just gotta hold still. Just gotta be a hole n’ let me jerk it right in there. A nice, sloppy place ta’ put my cum.”

Steve changes his angle minutely and Bucky sobs and jerks in place, then he starts pushing his hips back frantically. “Oh, ohn shit … oh shit, Steve, yes, pleasepleaseplease, oh—oh! I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum, ohmygod I’m gonna cum! Fuck, fuckfuckfuck!

Steve reaches around and cups his caged genitals, jostling them. “Yeah?” he goads, snapping his hips harder. “This gonna make you cum, honey? Just this? You sure? Just bein’ my good little thing? Getting used like a little cum dump?” Steve can feel his orgasm coalescing, gathering like a stormcloud—deep in his gut, in the base of his dick, the root of his balls. His hips slam harder as the pleasure spikes and goes molten inside him. “Ugghn!”

A high, inelegant noise sounds from Bucky’s throat, and then he’s crying and writhing, sobbing out strings of “I’m good, I’m good, I’m good!” as he falls apart.

Steve can only feel the fluttering of his orgasm deeper in, past the rubber grip of the pighole. He shoves all the way in so he can feel it ripple on half his dick, grinding furiously in–in–in and reaching his peak. He clenches his teeth and roars, hips pumping nonstop as he unloads inside Bucky for the third time in ninety minutes.

Just like always, it feels like it lasts forever and not at all. “Holy … fuck,” he eventually pants, when he’s ridden it out and is left slumped over Bucky’s back. He’s still got one hand between Bucky’s legs, holding his caged cock and balls. Bucky came while soft in the cage; Steve can feel the ejaculate wetting up his hand. He gives him another jostle, eliciting an overstimulated whine from the other man. It makes Steve smile breathlessly, and he releases him. He pats his hip. “Stay down for a minute.” Bucky makes a weak noise of no-contest as Steve pulls back and starts to clean them up.

Steve removes the pighole. He feels his dick make a valiant attempt at a fourth salute, at the sight of Bucky’s asshole winking itself closed. “Jesus. Next time I really am jerking it into you.” Next time, he wants to yank the plug out and shoot his load on Bucky’s wrecked asshole when it’s still trying to close back up like it’s doing right now. He reaches down and swipes his thumb over the stretched-out pucker, whispering “Shit.” Bucky grunts softly and then Steve’s cum is being pushed out, bubbling white and hot out around his thumb. Steve groans. He smacks him on the butt. “Stop that. You’re filthy.”

“Sure am,” Bucky purrs, smiling with his eyes closed and stretching out to lay prone on the bed.

Steve lies up against his side and lazily fingers between his cheeks, at the still-lax hole as it continues to twitch and push out cum. He lets his eyes slip closed. “You realize you just came just from being fucked, right?”

There’s a smile in Bucky's voice when he hums, “Mmhm. Sure did.”

Steve wishes he had the energy to demand anything of Bucky right now. He’d tell him to roll over so that he could inspect the cage. Instead, he just asks. “Did it feel like you got hard?”

“No,” Bucky says dreamily. “No. It kept trying and failing, and then I just stopped thinking about it and focused on you.”

Steve plays with Bucky’s hair. “Did that help you feel less …”

“Yes.” Bucky peeks over at him. “I just came from freaking sex, Steve. I didn’t think I—” his voice breaks with emotion, and he takes a steadying breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do that again in my life.” He sniffles, tearfully happy. “I worked right.”

Steve’s old junker of a heart gets another ding in it. He pulls Bucky in close to be the little spoon, and lies there kissing at the back of his neck for a long, long time. “You always work right, Buck. You’re always perfect. I love you.” He traces the edges of the star that’s carved into the nape of his neck, and eventually he whispers, “We’ll go to the piercing shop tomorrow.”

Masterlist

For those curious about the cock sheathes and pigholes that Steve and Bucky play with in this fic: Oxballs products

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: corinthian x male reader

req: no | wc: 1350 | old guard x the sandman

summary: "Did you just stab me?"

warnings: stabbing, blood, knives, swearing, smoking

a/n: I only had the beginning in thought, bullshited my way through. Was it meant to be a serious fic in the first place? From the first line, definitely not. Didn't think about where this was going, so ending it somewhere pretty stable. Fun to write, anyway.

1917

"Did you–did you just stab me?"

Corinthian was mortified.

"Seriously—I'm just minding my own business."

To the nightmare's utter horror, you pull the knife out from your chest and bring it in his direction with much vigor.

Corinthian catches your wrist in his hold before you can stab him, but it doesn't seem like that was your intention. Instead, you press the blade flat against his chest, no doubt staining his white shirt. If not death, it's what he deserved, honestly.

"I–"

Then, his eyebrows raise impossibly higher. The wound on your chest begins to heal, going through about a month's healing within the minute. No treatment, no magical oil, and certainly no (at the very, very least) prayer to God.

You mutter something in what he can only discern to be a language derived from Latin. "You're what? Sorry?" You scoff, "Sorry's not gonna cut it. We don't even know each other."

Was he dreaming? Nightmares didn't dream, they didn't even sleep. He wasn't even in the Dreaming.

"Well–"

"What are you gonna say? "Well, it was an accident."? You're telling me you knew someone, thought they were me, and wanted to stab them?"

When Corinthian was in trouble, he resorted to killing. It was in his nature. But first, when he dealt with something, he used his charms. It had never been the other way around; then again, there was always a first time for everything. Killing always came second when it came to pleasure, anyway.

"Let me talk, darling." Your eyebrows furrow and you're speechless at his audacity. "Let me explain myself."

"You–"

He cuts you off this time. "There's an explanation. I can assure you." He was lying through his teeth. He sticks his, still bloody, knife back in its holster and only allows a mental grimace. "Really, I can."

"So far it's only been bark, no talk." You point your finger at him. He raises his hands in surrender.

He racks his brain, and yet there was no plausible bluff to answer. You were an immortal, clearly, he couldn't kill you and flee. So, he takes off his glasses. "This is a way of… courting, where I'm from."

You raise a brow and say, tentatively, "Courting…"

"Yes." He says proudly.

"You're not gonna kiss me with your… eyes, are you?"

"No, no." He laughs genuinely at the suggestion. He's never tried—he has, actually. "We need at least a year for that."

"If whatever realm you come from–after a thousand years, anything's possible–really does court by… murder, then…" You run a hand through your hair with a huff, "you have to realize you're in the human realm. They're not immortal, and certainly not keen on being stabbed."

"Well, I found you." He offers with a grin.

"I'm not keen on being stabbed." You laugh, anyway. "But you did find an immortal."

This was fucking working. Corinthian's grin spreads wider, despite the uncomfortable feeling of the blood seeping through his white shirt and the disgust of not having cleaned his knife.

And, if pleasure came in after all, he didn't quite mind.

1945

For immortals, life was fleeting.

You had lost everything only after the first half a century. Your parents, your siblings, they were all gone; your childhood home refurbished for another family. And then, when all things "homely" weren't enough, your "home" empire fell.

And mortals. You always did love them, and many times, you had forgotten they weren't like you. For as long as you've lived, your heart's been broken over and over, whether metaphorically or physically.

People died early, people aged. When they did, and you didn't, they begged for a piece of your life. The first couple of times, you wished you could. You prayed to whatever God granted you the power of immortality to give it up entirely to age with them or to even give them a piece of it. After a several centuries, you accepted that the God(s) would never reply; and as the greed of humanity grew, you resorted to leaving before death could visit.

When the big things in life didn't stick around, the smaller things were even worse.

Your favorite pub disappeared after half a century. Your favorite food stand, and Andy's favorite Baklava, tried its hardest to last for a full century. The pets never lasted long, your favorite book was banned somehow, and old things were replaced by the year.

Nothing ever really stuck around.

Then again, you never really stuck around either.

Andy, Nicky, Joe, and Booker led quite the nomadic lifestyle. The Old Guard went where they were called. The only place you could call home anymore was the Church in Goussainville.

And, well, them. They were your home.

But, sometimes, they were like siblings. Siblings often separated as they came of age, but not you guys. For almost as long as Andromache has lived, you have known her; for a thousand years, you have known Nicky and Joe; and, for the last hundred, you have known Booker. Each bleeding moment of each fighting day, you spent it with them.

You can't blame yourself when you want a break from it all; when you want a break from the gunfights and constant death and revival, or when you want a break from your immortal friends.

It was a cold fall evening. You were tired. A month prior, you had brough a war to its end. You deserved a break.

The breath from your lungs comes out white, cold and visible. That didn't matter anyway when the breath from your cigarette comes out visible too. (Being immortal had its perks, and not "dying of cigarette" was one)

"(y/n)."

You sigh and flick the ash from your cigarette. Then, you turn, leaning your back against the railing. "Do I know you?"

You just wanted a bit of peace, serenity, and solidarity.

Maybe you should've taken note of the English, or the deep voice, or the familiar glasses.

Corinthian raises his arms to each side and tilts his head forward, towards you. His blazer opens slightly as he does, revealing his knife holsters.

"Corinthian?" You grin ecstatically, flicking the last of your cigarette away without a care in the world. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am, I'm immortal."

You huff, "You didn't think it would've been nice to mention that twenty-seven years ago?"

Before you can make your way towards him, Corinthian steps forward himself. He traps you between himself and the wooden railing. "When? After you left me?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry for that." You raise your hands in surrender, but Corinthian groans at that, so you place them back around him. "But, you know, lovers always beg for a piece of immortality. I can't grant them that."

I know people who can, Corinthian thinks. "We both have things to apologize for. You, your disappearance; me, my secret."

You chuckle, "Then let's leave it at that."

Corinthian brings you in for a kiss, using one of his hands to cup your cheek and bring you forward. You don't protest at the force he uses, for Corinthian was always a passionate lover.

"You know, you never really apologized for stabbing me."

"I didn't feel the need to. You know, tradition." You raise a brow at him. "Alright, yeah, I am from another realm, but murder is not a courting strategy." His eyebrows furrow as he thinks about your previous relationship. If you were questioning it now, why not then? "Did you know that back then?"

"Andy smacked the sense into me." You laugh, "If Gods can't grant me the wish of living out a life to its end after all my begging, then Gods don't exist. Similarly, other realms don't exist."

Corinthian tilts his head to the side, not a bad reason. There was still a major flaw, though. "But men with teeth for eyes do?"

"I didn't tell her that part."

After the end of the war a month ago, you thought to rest. Maybe you wouldn't be doing much of that.

"Hey, is that fire I smell?"

[squarebracketsmileyface]

I don’t remember if I or anyone else has given this song yet… but Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives is so Alex

I love this song, but i usually relate it to Desert Duo (from third life and double life, idk if you know what that is but it's a cool minecraft series and its amazing so you should lol) so I'd never even thought about it in the context of Sorry, It's Locked.

But oh my god?

You're so right?

It's so Alex?

Anyway, uh, Too long and very armature analysis incoming. As usual lol. I have far too many thoughts, as always, about my babies, and I've been writing sorry its locked Jam for the last couple days so I need to remind myself of the dumpster fire of a relationship the fic started with :D (I'm kidding, i love Jaylex in this fic and wish I hadn't done them so dirty, they could have been amazing. but also i love angst)

This whole song feel's like Alex kinda, like, reminiscing over his and Jay's relationship? Or, like, how it ended, but like, reminiscing in the moment? Do you know what I mean? Or is reminiscing over something while it's still happening just a me thing lol. Anyway, super long thing incoming (I'm so sorry, it's so long. This song has me in a chokehold).

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel It's all that I can give to you, my dear And when you come in quick to steal a kiss My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

As far as Alex is concerned, his relationship with Jay didn't start out bad. Back in college, when they started their fwb situation it was pretty healthy (though that did go downhill relatively quickly) It started out fine, but tension grew as soon as Alex realized that Jay actually liked him and that he couldn't bring himself to like Jay back, or to allow himself to like Jay back. That started the friction between them, but they kept fucking because it was fun, they both enjoyed themselves, and Jay didn't call it off yet. Alex definitely liked Jay, but he didn't necessarily know he liked Jay back. And didn't know how to express it, so he just didn't.

Then obviously the stuff with the Operator started, and that changed Alex's personality a lot, making him irritable and unpleasant to be around, even for the people he'd been friends with the longest. His mouth grew sharp and cruel, but he didn't break off his thing with Jay because it was the one place where he actually felt in control of his life. Jay did what Alex told him to, and Alex didn't have to wrestle with himself to not be unkind to him, because that was what Jay wanted (as far as he'd made Alex aware, that was what he wanted out of their dynamic)

If Jay tried to initiate anything softer, or more romantic with Alex back in college (or even just mentioned it, sometimes) Alex would shut him down. His teeth cut Jay's lips when Jay went in to steal a kiss, because Alex couldn't let himself get attached, and if he let Jay kiss him without it being used as something to spur them on to acts where Alex was definitively in control, he wouldn't be able to cope with it.

(jesus this is already so long. im so sorry if you decide to read all of this dude)

And I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent

Jay trying to help Alex after they meet up again is pretty much the last thing Alex actually wants. He asked Jay for help to find Amy while his thoughts were being edited and glitched out by the Operator, so when he first got in contact with Jay again, he did it so he could try and kill Jay. Then he regained his senses a little and realized that the absolute worst thing Jay could do was stick around. Like, obviously Jay meant well in trying to help Alex, but Alex hadn't meant well when he'd asked for help.

Jay wants to help, and he want's to rebuild the friendship he once had with Alex. He wants to help find Amy, despite Alex leaving him for her. He wants to help figure out what happened to Alex back in college. He wants to help figure out how to save Alex from what he's figured out happened. But Alex isn't the person Jay's well intentioned helpfulness should be aimed towards.

Alex doesn't really think he needs saving, he's convinced he has to save everyone else. But he has a twisted understanding of what it means to save people, and his idea of saving people often directly lines up with the things the Operator edits his thoughts to make him do. He doesn't (can't) realize that the things he does to save people (killing them) and the things the Operator edits his thoughts to make him think it's okay to do (killing those same people) are the same thing.

When he has a bit more sense about him, he realises that killing because it's what the Operator put in his head is awful and not something he wants to do. But he doesn't see killing people to 'save them' as the same thing. He barely even sees it as killing half the time, and even when he does, it's for the greater good.

So he doesn't think he needs help and he doesn't think he needs saving. And even if he did realise he needs help, Alex doesn't believe himself worthy of being helped or saved, not when he knows what he really intended to do when he first asked Jay for help.

I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything And if you're fine with that You can be mine like that

SO i have two lines of thinking about what this verse could mean

Post College:

Alex doesn't break pretty items that Jay owns (he doesn't have any that Alex could break, really) but he does break Jay in a way. After they argue in the parking lot, he realizes that Jay isn't going to stop trying to help him, no matter what, so he'll have to force him to, by breaking Jay's heart and making him hate him.

Jay's heart is a pretty thing: It was loving even when Alex was giving it nothing but a good fuck in return. It made Jay help Alex with his student film even as Alex became more and more unbearable to work with. It made Jay come back to help Alex all over again when his girlfriend 'disappeared'.

Alex had to save Jay, and his own (deeply buried) feelings for Jay stopped him from just killing him like he had to save Amy, and Seth, and Sarah, and all the others. He had to find another way, and the only way he could think of was to wring Jay dry of every ounce of care he still held for Alex.

OR

During College:

Alex wasn't trying to hurt Jay and break his heart, if anything he felt constantly like he was doing nothing but breaking his own heart over and over again by denying himself the chance to actually date Jay. So he kept up the fwb situation with Jay because it 'suited' both of them (aka neither of them voiced the issues they had with it to the other) until he'd wrung Jay dry and an opportunity to escape having to deal with his own sexuality (Amy) came along.

But, if Amy hadn't come along and offered Alex the perfect way out, he would have kept the fwb going for as long as he could, not willing to give up having Jay in the only way he felt he could until he absolutely had to. If Jay could be fine with that, he could be Alex's like that, with their relationship never progressing and only ever wearing the two of them down until they resented each other and couldn't take it anymore.

They were never not going to go down in flames, but they could light the fire with wet wood and suffocate slowly on the smoke until the fire finally took and burned them up quickly and painfully.

Abandon all your stupid dreams About the girl I could have been, my dear 'Cause in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return, my dear Oh, my dear

In college, Alex was silently begging Jay to give up his hopes of ever actually dating him, of them being together officially. He knew what Jay wanted him to be to him, but he also knew that he couldn't be that. He wanted to, somewhere squashed deep down, he really really wanted to be the soft, loving, romantic partner that Jay was waiting and hoping he'd turn into, but he knew it wouldn't happen. Maybe he didn't realize all of that consciously. Consciously he probably just thought he didn't like Jay like that at all, that he was just a good lay and that was the end of it. But he had one too many dreams about taking Jay on quiet, gentle dates for him to really only see Jay as a good fuck.

The thing is though, that he knows what Jay wants them to be to each other. He knows from the way that Jay looked at him whenever he messes up and starts treating him a little nicer, a little gentler, a little softer, when they fuck.

He knows that during those moments where they still together and catch their breaths, and Jay looks up at him like he's hung the stars just because he's brushing his sweaty hair out of his face, that Jay has those feelings and those hopes. And he knows he can't return those feelings. He can't return the love that Jay lavishes on him by not telling him to fuck off and going and finding someone who is willing to treat him the way he really wants to be treated. It kills him, but there's nothing he can do about it.

(Also good news, you're about half way through :D whoooooo, the torment isn't eternal!)

You gotta know that this won't last Desperation will erase the fact I'm keeping all Of the answers in my cigarette box Yeah, the answer's in the second before the other shoe drops And if you're blind to that I am fine with that

Back in college, Alex needed Jay to know that their arrangement couldn't last, that as much as Jay wanted it to work and wanted Alex to magically sort out the shit in his head that left him too scared to even properly date Jay in secret rather than just being fwb, it wouldn't. Alex needed Jay to know that it wouldn't change unless it was to break the whole thing off entirely, which is what happened, it was what was always going to happen. But if Alex could have made Jay realize that that was what he should have expected, and that nothing he could do would 'fix' that, maybe the not-breakup wouldn't have hurt Jay so badly.

Alex didn't want to hurt him, he wasn't trying to hurt him back in college, he was just trying to stop himself from hurting by continuing their fwb relationship. Alex's life was spiraling out of control, his own thoughts were spiraling out of his control, as were his actions sometimes, and the only time he felt secure in his control over himself and his life, was when he was controlling Jay in scenes.

The answers he always gave Jay when Jay got up the courage to try to talk about their relationship, and what he hoped it could become, weren't the truthful answers. Alex told him he didn't like him back, told him he was just a good fuck, when the real answer was that he was terrified out of his mind, and the idea of changing their relationship even a little felt dangerous. Because their fwb relationship worked and it gave Alex the control he needed, if they started dating that would bring in a huge amount of unknown variables, and if it ended up not working? That would leave Alex with nothing. Not to mention the general internalized homophobia, and the homophobia all around them meaning that it could be genuinely dangerous for both of them if the wrong people found out.

So he keeps all the real answers hidden away in a place Jay won't look for them, in a 'cigarette box' (behind the lies he tells instead) because it's something easily hidden, its something that wouldn't look out out of place, just like the lies he tells don't look out of place. Jay has no real reason to question the answers Alex gives him, they make sense and Alex's behavior seems to back up the idea that he doesn't like Jay the same way Jay likes him.

And Jay's desperation to have a relationship with Alex blinds him to the fact that it could actually be possible if only Alex would stop lying to him. Any time Jay sees a crack in Alex's facade he second guesses himself, insisting that it's just wishful thinking and that little glimpse behind the walls Alex has built was just something his hopeful, lovesick mind made up. It's always a split second, something so tiny and easy to miss that Jay automatically dismisses it.

Oh, I will ruin you Oh, I will ruin you It's a habit, I can't help it I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent

After college, when Jay and Alex meet up again and everything that happens after the argument in the parking lot happens, Alex knows that it's a terrible idea. He knows that all it'll do is reopen old, half healed, half festering wounds and rub salt in them, but Jay wants it, and he wants Jay so he doesn't stop them. He's lost all of his friends (whether to death or just distance), he's lost Amy, and the only thing he has left is an old, already failing not-relationship with Jay. So to tries to make himself feel better by rekindling that.

He and Jay fuck in the parking lot and Alex realizes that this is most likely going to be the last chance he ever gets to have Jay back, even just for one night. And if this is the last chance, he doesn't want it to be exactly the same as it was in college, so he takes Jay back to his house and does all the things he'd been too scared to back in college. Because who would find out? And if anyone did? Why would it matter, Alex's life had already fallen apart and become controlled by fear and a monster, what was getting beaten up for being queer in comparison to that?

This was his last chance to have Jay back, and Alex knew he had to make sure of that. He couldn't drag Jay into all of this, so he had to ruin everything in the worst way possible, and having taken Jay back to his house and treated him so nicely was (instead of coming back to bite him in the ass) going to work in his favor. Even in being nice, he was going to be hurting Jay, but that was what he had to do. Hurting Jay is a habit he can't kick, it's woven into his dna at this point and there's nothing he can do about that other than try to twist it into being something that's for Jay's own sake.

If he can just make Jay hate him enough, he can save him, he can drive him away and Jay won't be a target of the man in the black suit.

I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything But if you're fine with that If you're fine with that

Same as earlier :]

I will poison all your happy thoughts I will love you like the ashes in my cigarette box And if you're fine with that You can be mine If you're fine with that You can be mine, oh

Jay's 'happy thoughts' that Alex is poisoning are the memories of how nicely Alex treated him when they got back to his house. In the moment of it all, he wasn't thinking of anything other than showing Jay how much he actually cared about him and how he should have been being treated all along. In the moment he just wanted to be good to Jay. It was only afterwards that he realized what he'd have to do, and he took the next morning to spit poison into their breakfast, which could have been a turning point in their relationship if only they weren't doomed by the damn narrative.

So Alex ruins the night before for Jay by telling him he hadn't even wanted to remember that it was him he was fucking. He poisons those memories forever, as well as poisoning the idea of being treated well in general for Jay.

Alex loves all those truthful answers that he kept hidden away behind lies back in college. Those truths are what he was trying to finally finally let out when he and Jay spent the night together at his house.

He loves Jay like he loves those truthful answers that he never got to give him back in college, bitterly. Those truths were things he never thought he'd get to, never wanted to get to tell Jay, they sat rotting behind the lies he told, and now he can only look at them with a painful sort of nostalgia because it's too little too late.

[officialgleamstar]

okay so like --

(warning for discussions of suicidal ideation/self harm. not in any graphic amounts but mentioned frequently. under the cut because i talked way too long, Grant Wilson and Lark Oak-Garcia Give Me Feelings.)

tl;dr: lark and grant have matching semi-colon tattoos to honor each other. if you wanna hear All Of My Thoughts, journey on, but thats the gist of it gjhbfhjgbhjdf

i have said before that i do not think grant and lark would get along very well. i do stand by this. however i also think theyre both clingy motherfuckers, the kiddads are codependent and i believe this with all my heart, and so they are still friends even if they bicker like hell. i also think they both had a lot of mental health issues throughout high school and have some lopsided bond over being "the guys in the friend group to go to the psych ward" (all of the kiddads are like Bad Mentally but i just find that grant and lark are the most. uh. Clearly Suicidal so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i like to project my high school mental health onto grant and lark is. lark.)

i think at first, theres a lot of friction between them about this since i do think darryl and henry would try to push them to like. Be Supportive And Helpful to one another about this shared issue. i could spiral into a whole other conversation about that, i have a jghfbghjbdhj far too elaborate internal world about high school kiddads but all we need to know here is That Does Not Work. grant and lark do NOT fix each other, they definitely make each other worse bhjbfhjgbhjfdbgjd like i said! i dont think they get along! i think grant would project his own issues onto lark, and i think lark would call him out on that, and they would argue about it. they do NOT talk about mental health with one another or in general

but as time goes on and they both start doing better (again, projecting my own mental health onto grant but in a positive way now - despite relapses, i do think hes in a much better state of mind once hes an adult, and i think the same of lark. theyre not GOOD but i do not see them as like, actively suicidal as adults. theyre managing! we love that for them!), probably around senior year of high school or a year after that, lark reaches out to try and make amends for their issues with one another in high school. they dont usually like, Hang Out Alone, ever, but lark convinces grant to come over while lark gives himself a stick and poke tattoo. awkwardly hanging out alone in lark's room and picking their way through conversation. normal 18- to 19-year-olds stuff

i dont know if theyre like... still a big thing, but i know when i was in high school, the semi-colon on the wrist was a big symbol for mental health and showing support for those struggling. and i just really like the thought of lark going "i was gonna give myself a semi-colon tattoo" "oh, because youre doing better?" "no, because youre doing better, grant. its dedicated to you" (all of lark's tattoos are dedicated to other people but that. again. a whole other conversation i could spiral into) and grant just gets. really choked up about it. and rather impulsively goes "can you give one to me as well? so i can honor you."

and so grant's only tattoo matches lark's, and its a semi-colon that they both have on their wrist. i think i put lark's on his right the few times i've drawn it, i think grant's would probably also be on his right wrist but that doesn't matter too much ghbfdhgbdfjh i just think theres something really beautiful about honoring the continued life and well-being of someone youve not always gotten along with, but who still means the world to you. grant and lark, i think, would have a deep understanding of each other in a lot of ways, and i just think about that A Lot(tm)

also i think its fun to imagine grant having a Gay Moment over lark having to be all up in his space while giving him a tattoo but this whole concept isnt really meant to be shippy so fgbfjdhjh thats more an idle background thought

[art-g0blin-draws]

A story about progression, if you have the patience for it.

This is a concept I had over ten years ago, that reached its most current form after the arrival of pokemon scarlet and violet.

In 2013, I made a drawing of an alternate evo for Venusaur that at the time I called ESPasaur. It was designed to evolve from a high-leveled ivysaur that had recovered from pokerus. This was done on a cracked version of paint tool sai, the first art program I’d ever learned how to use.

Its name was ESPasaur because through the use of its mind, it was able to conquer the virus, becoming a grass/psychic type. The thought was there, but i wasn’t very experienced with fakemon stuff, so at the time, i thought it was great, but looking back, i know it had potential, but wasn’t really quite right.

I revisited the concept again in 2017 (not long after gen 7 came out.) This time I referred to it as an alolan venusaur, because of course. Regional variants were the popular thing at the time. This was done on Clip Studio Paint, before they turned against pretty much everyone who offered them patronage.

This time it was a grass/dragon variant. There wasn’t really any reason for it, outside of my love of dragon type. I think i got closer with this one, but i still wasn’t quite there, though at the time i was very proud of this one as well.

I recently revisited the concept again, and as i was with the last two, i am pretty proud of this one. This time, I’m approaching it from the perspective of having it as a paradox pokemon. The Grass/Dark type, Grasping Vine!

This one was a lot of fun. I got an iPad for Christmas. (despite being a 33-year-old adult who earns my own money and lives with my own wife, my mother enjoys encouraging my hobbies. Love you mom.) Since having it, i delved into procreate. Initially the minimalist design was jarring, compared to Sai and Clip studio before, and the stabilization tool was a hot bag of ass until i adjusted it. But i find myself drawn to procreate more and more as i continue to use it.

With this one, i took in some fun facts about ancient plants, as well as utilized some of my own theories about scarlet’s paradox pokemon.

For one, i have a theory that paradox pokemon from scarlet evolved through generations into branching trees of pokemon. For instance, roaring moon is obviously an ancestor to salamence and its more basic forms, bagon and Shelgon. but i theorize that because of its dragon/dark typing and general body structure, it could also be related to hydreigon and its own more basic forms, deino and zweilous!

With that in mind, i gave Grasping vine a “trap” that more closely resembles a carnivine! I also gave it viness that are more actively used to grasp and subdue prey.

So far as fun facts are concerned, there’s a theory among scientists that ancient, prehistoric plants used a molecule called Retinal to create metabolic energy from the sun. Retinal had a purple pigment, and so scientists believe that most of the organisms on early earth would have been purple, supposedly. Scientists believe it predates chlorophyll and photosynthesis!

Also, the flower in its core has a small pool of nectar. It uses that flower to lure pokemon in before the trap leaves snap shut around them. :D

TLDR, if you stick with doing the things you like, you’re going to get better at them. You have no choice but to do so. I don’t get a lot of commissions, but i do this mostly for me anyways. It’s something i love doing. I’m sure years from now I’ll revisit this concept again, and it’ll look even better than grasping vines. But for now, I’m really proud of this one. :D

[mrfelixfischoeder]

I wish you would write a fic where Cal & Pickles babysit Seth's son for a day

this got.... so long....... but i love it. thank you!!!

Australia. Fucking, Australia. They had to gig there again at some point, and Pickles knows any time would be too soon, so might as well rip the band-aid off. The “We Will Get Better” tour is being accepted on a broader scale than imagined. The world is ablaze, or mostly is now, but everyone still wants to preach to the choir. Sing the hymns that Nathan gives them and raise their hands in praise.

“Fuck, Australia got hit bad.” Pickles remarks, staring out of their hotel room window at what is left of Sydney – the place is awful. Calypso clears her throat.

“Uh, actually, because of its location, only the West got hit by the Doomstar… Australia’s one of the few places that didn’t get, like, wrecked completely…”

“Oh… Well… Shit.”

She laughs, until there’s a knock on the door. She barely has it open before the person on the other side barges in, Seth grinning in his sickening way as he sees Pickles first thing. Pickles glares, watching Cal flex her fist before thinking better of it. He saunters in, a small figure behind him.

“Hey brother, you didn’t come by and see me when you landed.” He muses, the fake accent grating on Pickles. Not that he has any pride in where he comes from – but somehow when Seth gets involved, he can be mad about anything. “Gutted but uh – I’ll get over it. Hey, listen, your ain’t playing tonight, huh?”

“No, Cal and I are- we’re tomorrow.” Pickles is thankful for the swapping aspect of the band, if only because he can fiddle with the roster and get some alone time with her.

“Cool, cool, cool, cool, uh hey, this is my son.” Seth steps aside, looking out at the city – his city, as far as he’s concerned. The mayor can go stick a rusty nail up his ass. Anyone who helps run Dethklok, runs the world. Seth knows that now; he knows how to play the game. “Look, I’m kinda busy today. Amber wants to uh, I dunno, go shoppin’. I dunno. But we need to, y’know, bond. Get close again. Can’t do that with this little guy around, right? You get where I’m goin’ with this, brother.” Pickles’ face crumples, “Look, you got a whole, a whole day to yourself. I don’t get any time. With Amber or myself, haha. So do me a favour, huh?”

“Do you a favour,” Pickles is interrupted by Seth shoving a paper bag in his arms, “Seth, look, Cal and I gotta relax before the gig tomorrow, and we probably gotta help ‘em set up,”

“Sounds fun,” Seth is not listening, walking back towards the door – he stops by his son, patting him on the head, and the boy leans back out of his reach, “Alright, you can send him home at uh, 9.”

“Nine?!” Cal snaps, but Seth barely looks at her, walking out backwards and giving Pickles some very lazy finger guns.

“Thanks, brother.”

The door slams shut. Cal and Pickles look at each other, and then down at the red headed boy who is playing with the fringes of the blanket on the bed. He finally looks up at them. Immediately Cal can’t be mad – cause she isn’t gonna be mad at a kid. But Pickles is still tense, and he slams the paper bag down on the desk. “This ain’t fair! He can’t keep doin’ this to me, man! I told you every time I’m near him, he just drives me fucking insane!”

“I know- Pickles,” Cal walks over, trying to quell him before he says something he might regret. Pickles shakes her away.

“No, I can’t keep doin’ this, he sucks! I don’t wanna fuckin’ babysit a kid, I wanna go out for a fuckin’ drink with my girlfriend, and see my friends play their fuckin’ music!”

“PICKLES!” Cal raises her voice over him, angling her head at the nephew. He’s staring at them, still, but with a more resigned expression than she expected. Pickles freezes, staring down at the boy. Red headed, in clothes that don’t quite fit. He’s trying to stay angry, trying to keep it all contained so that he can release it on Seth later. But he’s angry now, and Seth isn’t here now, so what good is that? No doubt he won’t even be around at 9 either.

“Oh.” He deflates, “Uh – sorry. Kid.”

“Ok.”

Pickles feels even worse. He wonders what Seth is like as a parent – how often Amber is on her phone, or if she tries at least… A little. He’s never been interested in being a dad, mostly because he’s older now and it isn’t in the cards for him anymore. He doesn’t know how to interact with this kid. But he doesn’t have to be the kid’s dad – he just has to be… Present. “You wanna watch tv?”

The boy sits on the bed, legs crossed, and eats his little grapes. Cal watches, and peers into the bag for the rest of his lunch; a sandwich, pathetic and squished, with a bite out of it already. That’s it? “This is pathetic.” Cal whispers to Pickles, who glances at the back.

“Seems like a pretty normal lunch to me.”

Cal rolls her eyes, patting Pickles on the arm, “Oh, sug’.” She ignores Pickles’ questioning look, knowing they’ll get into it later. “I’m gonna go get some real food – you’d like that, right? Both of ya?”

“Yeah!”

“O-Okay.” Pickles suddenly follows her to the door, “Wait, can I go too,”

“Hon, no.” she pushes him back into the room, “I won’t be long, alright?”

“You can’t leave me alone wit’ him! What do we talk about?”

“He’s watching tv, he won’t even want to talk.” She leans in and kisses his cheek – and though he looks worried, he leans his head to kiss her cheek back before she retreats. “I won’t be long. Promise.”

And then she closes the door. He turns, and well, true enough: the boy is just staring at the tv, perhaps willing Pickles to disappear into another dimension.

Pickles stares at the tv. A kid’s show – or a babies show, really – with Anthro dogs. The only reason he even recognises it is, he knows the episode: Toki has some of the stuffed animals in his room. “Aren’t you too old for this?”

“Aren’t you too bald for that hair cut?” he snaps back, and Pickles clenches his fist. But he’s a kid. He’s a kid. He’s a kid. And it was so quick, he almost admires it. Suddenly a Lhasa Apso came on screen, with exaggerated snout whiskers. Toki’s voice comes out of it, and then a red Komondor appears on the other side of the titular character. Pickles barely remembers recording those lines.

“You know dat’s me, right?” he points. His nephew looks sceptical, but does seem familiar enough.

He hesitates before replying, as if he might get into trouble, but surely if his dad said it then there must be some truth to it: “My dad says you don’t do anything.”

“Your dad doesn’t know shit.” He doesn’t hold back, tired of sticking up for Seth or saving his ass when it is undeserved. And his nephew doesn’t seem phased by the language or the disparaging comments. “I saved the world, kid.”

“That’s kinda cool.” He mutters, and Pickles almost straightens up. They both sit quiet, and when the episode ends, Pickles offers to show him some real entertainment, changing it to a rock music channel. The boy’s eyes widen as he stares at the guitars and the drums and the music fills the room. He’s enamoured; neither of them speak.

Then Cal comes back with proper food – burgers and fries and chicken nuggets and juice. Both boys’ faces light up and they grin, and Cal looks between them both. It’s like staring at the past and the present. The moment she puts the stuff down on the bed, they rip apart the bags, creating a free for all.

“What happened to your eye?” the boy peers at her, and Cal hesitates. Pickles doesn’t give any helpful indication of what to do. She shrugs, crossing her legs.

“Uhm, I got into a fight. They took it out.”

“Sick.” The boy stares at her, but it isn’t in disgust. She looks back at him, smirking a little.

“You ever get into any fights?”

“Ugh, yeah.” He jabs a fry into the sauce, “Peter keeps shoving me into lockers ‘cause of dad. He sucks.”

“Fuck yeah!” Pickles can’t hold back, and he doesn’t even care about the look Cal gives him. “I’ll drink t’that!”

He holds out his beer, crouching to get to face height. He raises an eyebrow, and Pickles picks up the boy’s wrist and clinks his beer with his juice box, “Why aren’t you fightin’ back?”

“I dunno how.” He mumbles, sipping his apple juice, watching the way Pickles downs his beer. Cal makes a face, shaking her head and finishing the nugget in her hand.

“Nuh-uh, that won’t fly with me.” She stands, gesturing for him to stand too – “I’ll show you some defensive stuff, ‘kay? And then I’ll show you an uppercut. And some other stuff if we have time.”

Pickles watches her, leaning back on the headboard of the bed. He smirks a little, and his nephew seems absolutely ready to learn. She shows him a block, and how to tip someone over his shoulder (he laughs so loudly, so jovially, as Cal picks him up and throws him back onto the bed. Pickles can’t help but laugh too). And then she shows him how to trap someone’s arm, “And if you do it this way, you’ll break it. But uh, y’know. You’ll only use that in self-defence, right?” she stares at him, and he nods slowly, “Ya promise?” she holds out her pinky. She notices he hesitates, before finally interlocking his pinky with hers, and they shake on it. Unable to stay out of the conversation, Pickles offers to show some more backhanded stuff; less flashy, but it got him out of plenty of situations on the streets.

Before they know it, a Klokateer knocks on their door.

“We have been contacted by your brother, my lord. He wants his child back.”

“Oh – uh,” Pickles looks over at his nephew, who is drawing something with Cal, “Really? So soon?”

“It is midnight, my lord.” He pauses, “And a school night.”

“Oh.” Pickles assumes that’s a bad thing. The boy looks up, and Cal notices the way his face changes. He knows it’s time to go home. “Okay, well uh – let’s go, kid.” He waves him over. The boy reluctantly makes his way to the door, and Pickles hesitates. They stare at each other, and Pickles can’t handle the vulnerable, truthful face of a child up close. He kneels down. “Look, uh, come see me play tamarrow, okay? I’ll send Seth tickets, right? VIP. You can watch me and Cal do our thing. And we’re the best.”

They smile at each other. His nephew hands him the paper he was doodling on, before saying bye to them both. At least he was leaving the room with a smile. When he feels Cal stand next to him, he looks down at the paper: a fairly well put together drawing of Pickles playing the drums and his nephew playing a guitar. Or a bass. There’s seven strings, so it’s hard to tell.

“Aw, well.” He takes in a deep breath, “That uh, you know. That was fun. He’s cool, y’know?”

“Wonder where he got that from.” Cal wraps her arms around Pickles waist, chin on his shoulder. He tries to humble himself with a laugh. But he sees it too. She pauses, thinking. “Do you remember his name?”

“. . . Ah shit.”

[genericpuff]

I really can't wait to see how you write Demeter! Is she going to be the villain?

yaay it's a good day for asks! sorry because I'm about to go on ANOTHER HUGE TANGENT LMAO but I hope it answers your question thoroughly enough ! 😅 (and if it doesn't at all lmk LOL) Demeter's gonna be an interesting one. I think you already know the answer to this, but I really can't stand how she's villainized like some Mother Gothel archetype, especially when it comes to how Rachel portrays it, because everything Demeter thinks/does/says is honestly justified, try as Rachel might to make her seem like some insane overbearing 'evil' stepmother. Everything always comes back to "Demeter bad!" whereas reading her depiction of Persephone is like watching The Little Mermaid as an adult.

(it's very frustrating, to say the least LMAO)

Personally I'm gonna be going for what LO started with, but never followed up on - Demeter wants to see her daughter gain independence, but is fearful of her being taken advantage of and hurt the same way she, her "sisters", and her "mother" was (and yes, I have my own way of tackling the incest and familial labels in a way Rachel could have but didn't, I don't wanna reveal too much but it's very fun and I can't wait to explore it haha). All this is gonna affect how her relationship with her daughter plays out - it won't be exactly like the Hymn of Demeter, focusing solely on Demeter's grief, but it won't be exactly like LO either where it throws aside the purpose and messaging of the original myth entirely. All the gods are nuanced and morally problematic in their own way, and that includes Persephone and Hades.

Honestly, I think the reason why so many myth 'retellings' like LO end up being this Flanderized in their characterizations ("Demeter bad, Persephone good!" and "Zeus bad husband, Hades perfect husband!") is because there's so little material surrounding Persephone and Hades compared to all the others. While this can make it fun for having more freedom in re-interpretations, it unfortunately has the opposite effect as well where people tend to forgo the entire point of the original story so they can have some feel good cute story where Hades was some "soft" husband who did nothing wrong and Persephone was some "boss babe" icon with no nuance in between.

I see this type of fetishization of the original myth in a lot of these interpretations but especially Rachel's work. I'm not sure if "fandomification" is a word that can be used here, but I definitely get the feeling Rachel idolizes and fetishizes Greek myth the same way a lot of young Westerners often idolize and fetishize Japanese lore and content, or, more personally, Indigenous cultures (as I myself am Indigenous, specifically Mi'kmaq) - by reducing it down to its most "consumable" formats and turning it into something more 'palatable' and 'fandom-y' for modern audiences that almost comes across as pandering and demeaning to anyone looking for anything with more depth than a teaspoon (and especially to those who belong to the respective cultures being portrayed through this lens).

This isn't to say that creators have to stick to their lane when writing about other cultures or myths, but you can tell when someone hasn't done their research and is working from a very romanticized template they've built up in their heads. Rachel's, in this case, feels like it's definitely come from her time on Tumblr back in the day, when Hades x Persephone writing prompts were all the rage and people were coming up with all sorts of feel good AU content. The thing with AU prompts like that though is they're just that - prompts, memes, mere thought experiments or hypotheticals, not something that can necessarily work as an actual serious long form story unless you know what you're doing. I think creators who want to go so far as to 're-interpret' these stories through their own lens have a huge responsibility to still recognize and treat the original source material with some semblance of respect. In this regard, LO in its current state really should have stayed as a slice-of-life type series if it wanted to keep things light.

And I'm saying this entirely as someone who grew up on weeb content in the freaking West and got more into Greek myth because of LO. That's why I don't entirely chastise it, fandom-y type stories like LO can definitely help introduce people to cultures and stories they wouldn't have batted an eye at before (as I've started to detest LO over the last year, it's made for even better learning because I've had to research the original myths just to see how Rachel is misfiring on them entirely LMAO) but there comes the added responsibility of making sure you're not erasing or reducing the original material in favor of the silly cutesy stuff. It's an entry point, not the entire course! And that's a responsibility that falls both on the audience and the content's creator, IMO.

Yay, more text dumps! Sorry if a lot of that seems weirdly gatekeepy, it's def not what I'm trying to get across, just trying to voice my own frustrations with the depiction of LO's characters as best I can, I feel like a lot of it comes down to Rachel just not having done proper research and relying solely on tropes and self-fulfilling fantasies. If LO stayed as a slice-of-life thing that would have been fine, there's definitely a place for that sort of feel-good goofy storytelling, but by trying to be super ultra serious, it's tripped over its own feet because that's just not what Rachel is capable of depicting at this moment. She's trying to write a super serious story, but doesn't come across as if she actually takes it seriously by extension and it shows.

TL ; DR: Basically, we're gonna actually hone in on Demeter's trauma from the Titanomachy and how it affects her parenting style and 'controlling' tendencies, not only of Persephone, but of the community of nymphs she's fostered over the years. It's not about whether Demeter is the hero or the villain, because that would be missing the point entirely - it's about her role and experiences as a mother and leader of her community, a woman in a struggling position of power among a patriarchal system, and a mother who lost her child to that same patriarchal system, whether by choice or through forced marriage. No matter how one wishes to tell it, whether it's in tragedy or celebration, you can't have the story of Persephone and Hades without Demeter. That is the core of what I want to focus on and bring back to the retellings of Hades and Persephone.

[aranict]

15, 25 and 28 for the fun questions please? :D

Oooh thanks love! :D

15. what do you think of when you hear the word "home"?

Hmmmm. I guess the first thing that comes to mind is 'safe space'. As in, somewhere cozy, where you can be yourself, be as much of an idiot as you can and still have fun without judgement, enjoy the quietness. I am a very private person, so for me "home" is definitely where I feel I can be myself, ramble about my stupid books, spend hours with my stupid games, and just chill with the people I love :)

I guess this comes a little from the fact that I grew up with a somewhat conservative setting, where I was heavily criticised for my interests ( 'why are you reading those stupid books?') , or for my lifestyle ( 'get away of that computer screen, hang out with some people', 'stop wearing all black', etc). So even if it sounds a little stupid now, growing up, I think that this was my main drive for getting a space of my own and just do my thing. Its funny how those things stick, you know?

25. fave season and why?

Ok, I think this is definitely Spring. I love the rebirth of nature after the long winter, the trees sprouting new leaves, the flowers blooming in the sunshine. I love how it is warm enough to be pleasant and enjoy both the day and nights outside, but without the scorching summers of our climate :) ( who loves 38oc? no one, I guess.) One of my favourite things is walking outside , when the sweet smell of citrus flowers or lilacs from the streets fills the air.

So yeah, Spring. Funny enough, my birthday is also in late spring, so I guess it fits? 🤣🤣🤣🤣

You can guess which my favourite myth in the greek pantheon is , lol.

28. do you collect anything?

Funny enough, no. I've never been into collections of any kind. I guess this comes for the fact that I'm not overly attached to anything in order to dedicate enough time and resources to collect it? I still buy things that I like, ie collectibles from fandoms ( cups, tshirts, fandom candles and the like). So I guess this is as far as I can get. :D

Thanks for tagging me!! <3

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #104

I didn't do nearly as much today as I thought I was gonna. I had this giant huge list in my mind that included a shower, physical therapy, laundry, dishes, a couple phone calls, steaming some salmon, getting a couple things we need for the house delivered from the internet, working on the thingy that I'm not gonna talk about until it's done, and maybe making some rice pudding.

…But all I managed was the shower, physical therapy, one of the two phone calls, and steaming some salmon. Bah.

I suppose 4 of the 10 things (I'm counting the phone calls as two things) isn't bad, considering that on top of still recovering from sleep deprivation, my body is also throwing a hell of a tantrum over the fact that I'm not actively in the process of building a new human. For me, the amount of loss is about twice as much and for twice as long as what's typical, so the end result is that I lose about 4 times the resources than is normal. And then, of course, there is the pain that occurs throughout this process. Fun, fun.

Supposedly, this process is necessary because human zygotes burrow until they find blood. This causes problems, so it's better to have a layer of it so that they don't burrow too far directly into our flesh. But for a variety of compelling reasons, you can't have a random layer of blood that sticks around for too terribly long without it getting weird and causing other problems, so every once in a while, it's gotta get torn down and rebuilt.

The natural result is that I don't have nearly as much energy as I might otherwise, which is a bit of a bummer. That's all right though. It's only temporary. Ultimately, everything is temporary; even my currently-assigned flesh-vessel ain't gonna last forever. It's the way of things. I'm not sad about it.

I got some new teas and they arrived today. One of them is a decaffeinated black tea with vanilla and nutmeg (which I am about to try!), and the other one is a lychee and rose petal tea. I thought of you when I saw these ones (since it is known that you like the scents of vanilla and also roses), and I thought maybe you'd like them, so I thought to give them a try, just in case someday I might be able to tell you all about how awesome it is, or even share a cup of the stuff with you.

…The vanilla and nutmeg tea is wonderful. I put some honey and milk in it. I really wish I could give you a mug of the stuff. But I can't. So I'll send along the pictures I took for you as I brewed it.

This is the box it came in. It's got a cute little owl on it with teacups for eyes, I guess. I really like owls, especially barn owls, so this is some huge points in its favor, right off the bat, haha!

Here's how it looked before adding milk and honey.

And here's how it looked after adding milk and honey. You'll also see a very curious Hunter. But Hunter is mostly curious because I'm still steaming the salmon, and he thinks that me going to the counter means he's gonna get a tiny piece of salmon. Which, to be fair, is normally a very astute observation on his part, but while the salmon does smell heavenly, it is still not ready, and I therefore do not have any to give to him. Against the law, I know, I know; suppose you better pop by and cart me off to "disappointed cat jail", right? But it's better that he wait than get sick from eating undercooked salmon; I don't think the stuff available at the grocery is sushi-grade, hahaha…

The salmon is done, and it turned out beautifully. I made myself a small bowl of it, for… ya know. Quality assurance purposes. Grilling and pan-frying salmon are also wonderful ways of preparing it, but given how it comes out of the steamer all luscious, juicy, and tender enough to be cut with a spoon, this is by far my favorite preparation method.

…And don't worry; now that it's ready, Hunter was able to get a small piece. But ONLY a small piece; this food is not nutritionally complete for him, so it's important that he eats his usual food instead of filling up on this. Don't worry though - his usual food is made for cats, but it's human grade; it could be argued that they eat better than we do!! Hahaha!

…Wish I could talk to you a bit over a mug of tea and a bowl of steamed salmon with buttered rice and veggies. Wouldn't that be neat. Just for a few minutes. A moment's peace and a good meal for just a few minutes. I imagine it would do wonders for your state of mind. But in the meantime, I'll do my best to carry the vast sense of emptiness that stems from the fact that this is impossible. From there, I'll take that sense of emptiness and pour something so beautiful into it that even you could be proud - just like I do with my trees and my silicone molds. Just, with different materials. You'll see.

Please stay safe out there, okay? I'll write to you again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[night-market-if]

Well, hello, Zinnia. Just came by to say thank you. I discovered your game some time ago, when you published like... prologe, maybe? Even back then I was intrigued, yet put it aside until the ch. 7 was up. I still think that read it all at once was a good decision, not quite sure I can maintane such patience from now on, though. If the fact that I spend whole evening after a long day at work, reading the game, written in foreign language (I am not a native English speaker, as you might guess already), isn't tell your somesing, then hear this: your wolrd is fascinates me. Many people can come up with an enormous cast of characters, throw a bunch of dialogues and say 'I made a complex world'. Yet its not as simple as that. You need not just a complex character(s), you need a meaningful one. Same for.. ugh. Plot mysteries? Can I named it like that? You ceep saying, that you know, what story you want to tell, you know the characters. And it shows in many wayes. Oh, this post went long already. Sorry. To put it simply, you did a great job fo far. It may be hard - to tell a story, even harder to share it wtih others, and I am glad that you hapend to be brave enough. I wish you luck.

Also, at my first playthrough (that "some-time-ago") I sort of randomly named MC "Echo". It sticks somehow. And now I have four MC for all routes named that way. I have my own theories about there identety, can't wait to find out the truth. It might be fun. Or not so fun xd.

Echo is a wonderful name for the MC. It fits very very well I think. :)

Thank you so much for this post. I have just recently gotten to the point where I've realized that I am creating a story that people are actually reading. It is mind boggling to me that it is not just friends and family anymore reading my stuff. It's a wide range of people from all over and sometimes it feels surreal that it is even happening. Often times, I get down on myself because I am the stay at home parent in our household and I keep thinking that I want to be able to do more. I want my kids to see that there is far more to life. Writing the Night Market has been a balance but it's been the best balance.

Thank you for your kind words. I have needed them today, and I hope you are having a lovely day.

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨

        Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi

[charrfie]

oh also because you did the oc one can we see the evolution of ur sona(s)?

I LOVEEEE SEEING PEOPLES OC/SONA EVOLUTIONS SO OF COURSE I'M DOWN TO ANSWER MORE ASKS LIKE THIS!!!

Putting it under a read more like I did with my last one! Because arrfs comes with a lot of long history I want to write down >:^D

A couple years ago I noticed that the disconnect I had with my old sona Charlie (who was my sona throughout middle-high school as well as being the oc I got my online alias from) was getting far too great. I couldn't really see myself being represented by them at all... they were more of a mascot than anything else. So I started the journey of figuring out a new sona design! This was the very first sketch I did of arrfs (some time in 2021 I believe?)

This design didn't stick very long because I really didn't like the shape language or colors. But I liked the concept a lot! A dog with a bunch of different colors on it! Thus came iteration two, where I rounded out shapes and colors a little more as well as added hair/accessories!

The final version of this part of the design stage has the most life I think. Lots of stripes and dots and a generally bubbly appearance. Plus the cool raccoon tails I had for a minute there. But ultimately... it wasn't enough. I couldn't see myself in what I had made and what I had poured so much time into.

It's worth mentioning that it was during this time I was struggling with my gender a lot. I had recently discovered that I was trans after rebelling against the idea that I wasn't "trans enough" for years and years. All my efforts put towards creating a sona that really felt like me were deeply rooted in this convoluted internal monologue I was having with myself concerning how I was perceived, femininity, and fitting into the bubble that was expected of me. That I expected of me. As much as I love and celebrate my transness today, change was scary to me then. Getting hit by such a gigantic realization was fully reflected in the art I made at the time. I latched onto the "me" that was constantly projected onto me in my work.

Acceptance changed a lot of things. And once again, that was not only reflected in my art, but in my depictions of myself in general. Kazoo, the name I temporarily gave to this iteration of arrfs, was the first time I truly saw myself in a sona. This time, the only reason I changed their design was because I felt like I could push it even further rather than because it didn't feel like me.

And then comes the final iteration. The arrfs you all know today! One of my dearest friends (+18 content warning, if you're a kid do not check their account) helped me figure out some aspects of their design. There's lots of meaning I could tie into their design choices, but a lot of it is something I'd rather keep close (that is, unless I ever decide to write a whole long post about it in the future).

One fun fact I WILL give you though: while its not depicted in this drawing due to stylistic choices, current arrfs has connected eyes to integrate the feeling of glasses rather than directly giving them glasses (as all past designs have had). Always thought that was a cute concept ^_^

SPACE'S MOST SWAGGED OUT BUG DOG!!!!!

[tenelkadjowrites]

hello!!! i hope you’re doing amazing <3 i have two questions, cause i’m obsessed with ur blog and you’re the sweetest human ever to answer things, so i’m not scared of u (some blog owners just kinda gives me not so good vibes)

first, have u ever considered writing a best friend’s brother fic? i can picture it with anyone u write, but fr i think san would stand out more for the role iykwim

also!! u don’t rlly write about the other members, is it because u find it harder to fit in one of ur works? or anything else?

anyways, i hope u didn’t find anything i’ve said here offensive or anything. have a good week <3

this answer is gonna be long so i'm gonna add a cut.

first off, thank you so much for calling me sweet <3 it is really important to me that this blog feels comforting and welcoming (as much as a blog can be with the type of smut i post lol.) and that ppl can feel safe sending in questions or comments or even just random things about ateez or whatever.

as far as writing a best friend's brother, i haven't written that trope altho i've written reader sleeping with their brother's best friend with the idol taemin and my current seonghwa fic i am working on is also reader with brother's best friend. i just haven't gotten any inspiration to write best friend's brother yet, i just kinda go wherever my brain takes me lmao. altho that trope does sound fun! def a lot of promise for something smutty and enjoyable lol.

as for why i don't write about other members, it isn't anything against them. i love every single member of that group, they are my comfort and a source of great joy for me. but my brain leans into seonghwa because, when it comes to idols, he is just very special to me. i feel a kinship with him (as much as one can with an idol you know from a distance) in that he is oftentimes the caretaker (as the older sister, i relate.) he is extremely considerate, thoughtful, kind, and loving. i love that he is so open with his emotions that he isn't afraid to cry openly (not to get too personal on this blog but i cry a lot whenever i feel the need to since its healthy to do so) and his dedication to ateez and atiny touches me. on top of that, i think he is an incredible performer and he has an energy to him on stage that speaks to me. and of course, i find him just...insanely attractive.

because of all those reasons, he ends up being my muse and my inspiration for my fics. when my brain lobs me an idea for a fic, it is typically tied to hwa. if i swapped hwa out for another member, it wouldn't feel "the same" in my brain and therefore i believe the work would suffer for it if that makes sense.

i have gotten asked before, on and off this blog, about when or why i won't write for other members to the point where sometimes i catch myself debating if i should swap hwa out for someone else for a fic due to demand. but then i think that is a disservice not only to the member i'd swap with, who wouldn't be getting the proper treatment i give all my fics and characterizations, but also to myself as a writer who is now writing for the blog vs writing for myself and then posting it on the blog on the off chance others might enjoy what i write.

i've also said this before but it bears repeating because it is truly important to me but writing is me. writing is my heart, my soul, my joy and my passion since i was around six years old. it's saved my life, it's given me purpose, it's given me a happiness nothing else has. i write these fics because of the pure joy it gives me and i try very very hard to stick to that and share the stories to hopefully give others comfort and a place to escape to during moments of their life where they want to shut the world out. so i stick to writing mostly hwa because that is where my heart and creativity lies and my work is better for it! <3

i know this answer was soooo long and i hope that is okay if you, or anyone else, took the time to read this lol! but i really wanted to give this a good answer! thank you so much for taking the time to send in thoughtful questions and i hope i answered them in a way that made sense. <3 have a wonderful night/day!

[digirainebow]

The only problem with timezones is I want to talk to the cool people but I get so tired and start talking absolute nonsense (like I'm doing rn) but anyways who's your favourite oxenfree character?

i am a connoisseur of talking nonsense so dont you worry. and oooo this is the most enigmatic question of all time for me. it shifts from moment to moment. i have tried many times to declare a favorite and it never really feels right because i love and think about them all about the same. i usually say clarissa is my favorite because she is the one i connected with first. i loved her from the moment i met her on my very first playthrough, and she has continued to be something i return to in low moments because she is symbolic of something very valuable to me when it comes to dealing with anger. but as i said in The Oxenfree Playthrough Video™, jonas is realistically more my favorite because gets the most reaction out of me. he's a blorbo, a scrunkly, whatever. evokes a lot of those feral stick figure memes with the blood. he is just suuuuch a little guy to me and so funny and so sweet and just like me for real. also more of the dealing with anger thing. that's a big plus for me always but in this moment? right now? i kinda wanna say? its ren? i do say quite often that i actually think about him maybe more than any of the other characters, i just usually dont vocalize it because i am often worried im embellishing and taking liberties with his intended character. and the thoughts can get very complicated for personal reasons that i wont get into and because it took a long time to get to this place with him as a character compared to the others. he was my least favorite by far when i first played. but i just cannot help myself but infer from his dialogue now that ive played like 80 times and picked all the options that there is just so much more to him than could ever have fit into the game. ren is cup fucking overflowing like there is so much of his emotional issues bursting out of the seams through the whole game and i am just so endeared to him and his thoughts and motivations. he is also just a little guy to me who is funny of course, but he isnt a little guy in the comfy, brotherly, jonas way. he is a poor little wet cat of a man to me with the most adhd a person can have. i want to know about his past and his future almost more than anyone else because, and it is wild, for how much ren talks and overshares, we really don't know a lot about his life before the island. we know like, ALL of the details, but none of the core. he "needs to be needed" and has a therapist and needed a baby sitter until he was 14 and we will just...never know the core of why! how much did michael's death hurt him? we know how it affected alex, and clarissa, and even jonas by proxy! but even if he wasn't friends with michael, he still grew up with him. and knowing how close he was to alex...y'know? and we just never really...find out a lot there. and somehow that absence of knowledge speaks more to me about his character than any direct info ever would? he cannot help but be kind of a damaged little dude who spews his needs and fears at the drop of a hat, but i don't think he likes being that way. he wants and likes to be jokey and deflective and just have a good fucking time. and i both feel bad for him because of that and understand completely? even if he himself has not gone through something traumatic, everyone around him has. so why wouldn't he just want to make a space where they can all just have fun? sorry he just makes me insane. anyway. yeah, ren right now. i think. clarissa or jonas usually. probably alex tomorrow. i will shut up now because i should, not because i don't have more to say. i will always have more to say about these characters. man

[rainanime]

Chapter two

KURAPIKA POV:

As we arrived at Dolle Harbor , we thanked the captain and headed to the exam site. We stopped at a map. Leorio said that it's supposed to be held somewhere in Zaban city. Gon told us about the tree that was supposed to be a short cut but it's on the opposite side of Zaban. I asked if he may have misheard the captain but he said that he did not think so. He said that the captain told him to go towards the Cedar tree. I'm guessing that our task is to find the site using only limited information. This is another test to determine if we are worthy of the exam.

Y/N POV:

Dad was saying how this was another test to determine if we are worthy of the test. Gon was saying how he was gunna go check it out for himself, find out what the captain was talking about. I wanted to go explore too so I started walking but before I could reach him my dad grabbed my arm. I looked at him and he shook his head no. Really dad!? I want to go with gon and explore not just follow you around like a lost dog. I said with an attitude. My dad raised his eyebrows and gave me a very stern look that told me to shut my mouth and watch what I was saying. I got the hint and put my head down and mumbled a sorry.

KURAPIKA POV:

I am not ok with my daughter talking to me like this and I know I will have to come up with some sort of punishment but for now I do understand what she is saying she's just like me. She wants to see what in this place we call our world. So I took her hand in mine and started following gon. I am intrigued by the captains advice, and in Homs behavior. I also want my daughter to have some fun.

LEORIO POV:

All right whatever, it wasn't long but it was nice knowing you guys. As I was walking away to the bus i told myself .. another follower just like the rest of 'em. Not me tho I'm gunna take this bus. As I was walking I heard a man say ("so it was a trap? None of the buses make it to Zaban city. Rookies always fail this part. They believe whatever you tell them.") well that happened I guess I'm just gunna be a follower. So.... HEY HEY HEY!!! Wait for me! I yelled out to KURAPIKA and his kid and gon. I will not tell them I was wrong I will never admit to that ... soooo .. ITS just that I knew you guys would be lonely without me. Plus it's no fun traveling alone. That why I figured I will stick with you guys a little while longer. KURAPIKA'S daughter looked at me and said ( we were not alone we had each other and we are not lonely we were fine without you) HEY!!! That's rude kid. (No just honest) I glared at her and just said whatever.

Y/N POV:

After that I went back by my dad as we started walking more. I was starting to get a little hungry I have not eaten since we left home. As I was about to tell dad that a crow cawed and knocked me out of my hunger thoughts I hate birds ://... I grabbed onto dads arm and walked really close to him... There was no one here at least as far as I can see.. Hey do you guys think this place is abandoned? Gon looked at me and said no there are a bunch of people here.. Um can you see ghost or so young because I don't see anyone??? I said. Just as I said that two doors slid open I went behind dad. Out came many scary people with mask on. Hell no I'm scared I grabbed onto dad and put my face in his back...

KURAPIKA POV:

As the doors opened y/n went behind me and many weird people came out with mask on. I knew she was scared because she grabbed onto me and hid her face in my back. A women who was in the middle of all the people said (EXCITING) she said it two times and leorio repeated it. Then out of no we're she yelled ( TIME FOR THE EXCITING MULTIPLE-CHOICE QUIZ) she then guessed why were were there and got it right. She said that the only way we get there is if we pass through this town first. We had five seconds to answer her question and if we are right we get to move on.. I turned around and picked up my daughter who was still scared she put her face in the Crook of my neck... the lady looked at her and her eyes softened at the sight of my daughter... I asked her if this is another trial that we had to take before taking the exam. As we were talking some guy came out and said hurry up before I answer it by myself... Leorio asked " who the hell are you" Gon said that he has been following us pretty closely ever since we left the port. We let him go first. His question was ( a group of evil villains have kidnapped your mother and your true love, and you can only save one of them. Chose one for your mother and two for your true love. Which do you save and which of them dies? She asked him. All are eyes went wide because of this question. He hits the red button and says it dumber one .. and gives his reason. She let him pass. I realized as leorio was having his little tantrum that there is no right answer. I realized that I was about the tell leorio but the old lady stoped me. She told me me that she does not want to hear a word out of me or my daughter since she heard what I said.. if we said anything but are answer we would be disqualified. (Thinking) you could do this leorio it's just a simple trick. The women asked the question. But before she looked at my daughter and then at me with a little smirk. Then she asked ( you learned both your son and your daughter have been kidnapped. You will only be able to rescue one of them, which of these two will you rescue. My daughter looked at me and I just shook my head and smiled and kissed her head. The women started counting down from five. Leorio picked up a wooden log I put my daughter down. When she said times up leorio jumped and tried to hit her but I blocked his weapon with mine. He told me to get out of his way. My daughter walked by gon and I yelled at leorio saying . WOULD YOU PLEASE CALM DOWN?! We got the answer right leorio!!!! Do you really want to jeopardize that!!!! The answer was silent.. there was no correct answer. She told us to follow the path behind the door for two hours and we would reach the tree. Leorio apologies to the women and she said don't me sorry that she doesn't mind. Gon dropped down to the floor and said that he could not think of the right answer. My daughter looked at him like he was the dumbest person she knew. I chuckled as my daughter walked back to me. We started walking and y/n was by gon and me. As we were walking she tugged on my pant leg I looked at her she looked at me and looked around kind of scared. It was pretty dark out so I bent down and she went on my back. After about 10 minutes it has extremely dark and y/n told me she was getting hungry... I got some peanuts and water do you want that? Yes please... she says 2 with a smile. I got them out and handed a little at a time to her. After she was done she lays her head down on my shoulder and just looks at the trees. We've reached the two hour mark of walking. We kept on seeing magical beast signs 🪧. Leorio was saying how he was hungry and needed to take a dump and pee. I was getting annoyed so I looked away and I said out loud. " HEY I THINK I SEE IT".

Y/N POV:

I look at the house right next to the tree. It was huge and mad of wood. It looked like a cabin. We asked if anyone was home and got no reply. ( I guess not- gon said) leorio opens the door as I got off my dads back. I went by gon and walked in the house. When I look what was inside I screamed and ran to my dad. It was a huge green looking booger with red eyes and he hurt someone. My dad grabbed me and put me behind him. Dad knew what this thing was !!!!!!! I swear dad needs to tell me about these ugly creatures. The creature left with the women and dad and everyone else including me ran to the side leorio went to the guy that was on the floor trying to help him. My dad looked at me and then said... ( y/n you stay here with leorio do as he says and do not leave his side ! Do you under stand me?) he said in a stern voice. I shone my head yes but I went to ask why but dad just gave me a hug and then left outside with gon. Dad!!!! I shouted he just kept on running :/.... I went my leorio and helped him rap the guys arms and side as leorio gave him medicine... As the sun started to rise I was getting worried about dad and gon. And I was getting grumpy because I was tired. Leorio and I left the guy who he said was fine and we went to go look for gon and my dad.. I went on leorios back because I was too slow for him. We saw my dad and leorio yelled his name. I got off his back and ran to my dad and hugged him .... To be honest that's the longest I've ever been away from him. He hugged back and said in my ear ( I'm sorry baby you can sleep on me if you want ) I nodded my head and fell asleep.

KURAPIKA POV:

As my baby feel asleep I looked at leorio and asked him how is the man he was caring for? He said he was good and that the wound was not that deep. I then smacked him in the head with my weapon. Not because of letting my daughter come or for helping the guy it was because he was not leorio but he was an impostor who took made my daughter think it was the real leorio and led her out here.. he did not mean to run into me but he did and y/n as soon as she saw me left him thank god. He was trying to take MY daughter away... I was beyond mad. The imposter asked how I knew I told him I really didn't but leorio made a promise to take care of the injured man. And I told my daughter to follow leorio and she did. But she followed the wrong one. The imposter laughed and jumped away. With my little girl on one side of my arm and on the other arm/ hand my weapon I put it to the wife's neck and told her .... Now who are you and what do you want from us? She chuckled .... I went back to the house with her walking in front of me and y/n sleeping in my left arm. The two kirikos were shocked that gon could tell them apart.. leorio and I could not tell at all... The "husband and wife" were actually there kids so they were brother and sister. I was told I passed because of my knowledge. The son said that leorio and my daughter dressed his wounds faster then any doctor and that my daughter is very helpful at comforting a person and distracts a persons pain by a cute smile and her laughs. I smiled at this and kissed my daughters head.. she just snuggled into me more for warmth. The son then said that leorio and y/n passed. I smiled and leorio passed out. Then gon passed.. we all fist bumped... they were going to take us to the site of the exam my daughter was with the sister leorio was with the brother gon was with the mother and I was with the father.