#patchy oh patchy could we really go

[bluebellhairpin]

QUICK!

We are going on a double date! You pick the place, I'll pick us some cute outfits okay!?!?

OHHHHH CAN WE GO TO THE THEATER. CAN WE GO WATCH PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

[marlynnofmany]

Sledding

The architecture in this alien city was strange: undulating concrete all over the place, with some buildings underground and some set on top. Everything was painted in wild colors. It reminded me of a skate park. I was curious about the history behind it all, and whether the local Heatseekers had worked with any other species on it. I hadn’t seen the little lizardy folks build things like this before.

Zhee didn’t know. He also didn’t care, more interested in getting our delivery done before the distant rainclouds arrived. He clicked across the concrete on his many bug legs, hissing at me to keep up and not drop the package.

He probably would have liked to be the one carrying it, but I’d grabbed it first. My hands were more suited to carrying this size box than his mantis pinchers were anyway. I walked faster. Getting caught in the rain didn’t sound like a good time to me either.

Then we rounded a corner and topped a hill to where there was more ambient noise, and hmm: problem. It looked like the previous rainclouds had made for some unexpected flooding. A valley with high sides was filled with rushing, muddy water. Heatseekers stood on either side with their own signs of commerce, debating how to get across.

“Can’t we just go to the bridge?” one asked, sounding like she knew the answer already. Her purple-blue scales clashed with the orange vest she wore.

An older female in a similar vest shook her head. “Too far. The bosses want this fixed an hour ago.” She rapped scaly green knuckles on the hoversled holding tightly-strapped-down machine parts. “Traffic’s going to pick up soon, and the rich and powerful will be complaining.”

A truly ancient male with patchy blue scales peered at the contents of the sled. “Are you kids here to fix the water lock?”

The middle-aged female gave him a look that was part amusement, part exhaustion. “We are. Unfortunately it’s on the other side of the water.” She waved toward the gushing current.

Several other Heatseekers stood on the other side, three in orange vests. One cupped hands to his snout and yelled, “Ride it across!”

The younger female winced, shrinking back from the water far below. The older one sighed.

The old male cackled with the glee of an elder who was about to watch someone else do something he wouldn’t be expected to. “This should be good!” he declared, stepping to the side and waving at a couple newcomers who were just arriving behind us. “Step back, everyone! The mechanics are going to do something dangerous!”

The green female sighed again and rubbed her face, scales clicking along with the sound of water. “Thanks.”

Puzzled, I looked from the sled to the water and back. The slope wasn’t very steep. Were there predators in the water or something? Or was she worried about running out of momentum and getting stranded in the middle? That model of hoversled didn’t have an engine. Oh right, and Heatseekers were coldblooded. That could actually be a problem. But only if she didn’t go fast enough, right? These big halfpipe slopes ought to work just fine for that.

The younger Heatseeker looked terrified. “Please don’t make me,” she whispered.

“I don’t want to either, but it’s got to be done!” the older one snapped. She looked over the gathering crowd. “I don’t suppose there are any volunteers?”

It really didn’t look dangerous to me. Kind of fun, really.

When I turned to look at Zhee, I found him staring at me with his antennae angled into a judgemental expression. He rotated his pinchers and plucked the box from my hands. “This one volunteers,” he announced. “She’ll even enjoy it.”

Now everybody was looking at me, with more than a little hope in their eyes. “It really doesn’t seem that scary,” I admitted.

The young one snorted. “Okay!”

The older one addressed Zhee. “Is your friend right in the head?”

“Hey,” I said.

Zhee spread his mandibles in a creepy Mesmer grin. “As right as her species ever gets. Humans evolved swinging through trees, and they’ve never gotten over it.”

The elder cackled loudly at that, and the middle-aged one shook her head. “All right. Do you know how to steer this model?” That part was aimed at me.

I stepped over for a quick rundown of the controls. It was simple enough; this type even had built-in speed controls that required two hands to override. They couldn’t just give it a kick and hope for the best; someone really did need to ride it to make sure it coasted all the way across the water.

(Which did not have alien turbo-crocodiles or whatever lurking under the surface. They promised.)

There was no more reason to delay after that. The two mechanics held the sled stable while I climbed on and found a position that was mostly comfortable, with my legs wedged under the straps. I put both hands on the controls. Then they let go and gave it a push.

“Woooo!” I cheered, sledding down the hill. The hover mechanism was a good one, not even jolting at the transition between concrete and water. I skimmed across the surface with the smell of muddy alien river water in the air, then all too soon I was scooting up the opposite slope. I remembered to engage the brake before I slid back.

The mechanics on this side rushed down to meet me. “Thank you!”

“My pleasure!” I said, tugging my legs free of the straps. “That was a lot of fun.”

“Fun??” one asked in disbelief, pausing in the middle of removing one of the machine parts.

“Sure!” I said. “I haven’t ridden a slope that good since I went sledding as a kid. And this time I didn’t have to wait in line for a turn!”

The Heatseeker looked quietly horrified. He didn’t say anything, just going back to freeing the bit of machinery and hustling away with it.

“We appreciate the help,” said the one that seemed to be in charge, while others took the parts through a door that I hadn’t noticed until now. “How convenient that you enjoyed it. We should be able to get the water diverted very quickly, now that we have replacement parts.” He frowned at the door as if he could see through it to where various clanks and swear words could be heard over the river. “Honestly, that whole section was supposed to be replaced last year. Anyways! We’re very grateful.”

“Happy to help,” I said. “Say, will you need to take the sled back that way when you’re done with it? I could ride it back again.”

He picked up one of the last pieces and tucked a strap away. With a chuckle, he said, “I don’t think anyone’s going to stop you.”

“Excellent.”

The water level was already going down by the time I took off, but that didn’t make it any less fun.

“Wahoooo!”

I could see Zhee shaking his head from here.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[sappymix1]

happy new year!!! first fic of 2025 down that's crazy 🫡 teeny tiny patches pov dnfies nye fic under the cut :3

“Isn’t it funny,” George mumbled from his spot on Dream’s lap. His one hand was rested heavy on Patches’ back, making the tiny cave that she had wiggled herself into as soon as the fireworks started. “That we’re in, like, the same place every new year?”

He had stopped petting Patches what felt like an eternity ago, sleepy, and it felt deeply unfair. Dream knew that she hated fireworks, and he had scooped her up from where she was cowering under the couch to let her sit with the two of them instead. Somewhere, Naomi and Milo’s tiny claws were still clicking against the floor, and Patches had let herself indulge in a brief feeling of superiority over that. She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t, really. It was more so annoyance that there were two more cats in the home, two more heads to pat and two more mouths to sneak tiny fish flavored treats to. So she liked, a little bit, the reminder that she had been here the longest. That she was Dream’s cat, and that she had become George’s too. 

Even if she did feel a little bit bad, that Milo and Naomi’s father was away for the holidays. Less so, after Milo peed on Dream’s bed in the spot that she liked to sleep on again. 

Patches pressed her tiny wet nose against George’s hand, making a soft meowing noise. She had always sort of suspected, from the first time that he had scooped her up and she recognized the voice that had whispered to her over Dream’s computer speakers, that George could speak cat, and he complied this time with her request, hand sliding down her head and her neck to rub her back. She purred softly, happiness vibrating through her tiny body, deep into her bones. 

“Weren’t you in LA or something last year?” Dream asked, in that soft voice that Patches knew so well. She flicked her tail, soft fur brushing against George’s hand. 

“No, I was back, right?” George’s voice went high at the end, still a little hoarse from the half cold that he had been dragging around behind him the past few days. Patches could imagine the soft face that Dream was making at him, a mix of worry and something lighter, even if she couldn’t see much other than his stomach, his one knee, his hand running through George’s dark curls, from where she was curled up. “I think I flew back, like, during the day. So I was here for New Years Eve. But like, last year I was just getting back too. So we were just being, like, reunited. Isn’t that crazy?”

He said something else, but it was drowned out by somebody launching a loud firework into the sky above their house with a bang. Patches felt the tiny parts of her throat involuntarily seize up into a pained mrow, and she buried her face into George’s chest. She probably also buried her claws into the fabric a little, and hopefully not his skin, but George kindly didn’t react to it if she had. He scratched her behind her ears, and whispered – “oh, poor Patchy. Dream, you should go threaten them until they stop.”

Dream scoffed. “What?”

Patches eyes fell shut, fireworks already forgotten, and a soft purr rumbled in her chest. 

“It’s not even midnight! They’re, like, cheating.” 

Something was probably happening where Patches couldn’t see. She heard Dream move, felt George move, and it was a few seconds before either of them spoke again. “At least Sapnap isn’t here, this year. Oh god that sounded so mean. You know – you know what I meant.”

“I’m telling him you said that you hate him and want him to move out,” George said gleefully, before yawning, a full body motion that moved like a wave under Patches. “We aren’t even, like, taking advantage of it. We should be, like –” Suddenly, George’s hands were over Patches ears, and she was trying futilely to pull away as he drowned out whatever he was saying. She was freed, just in time to hear Dream say George! in a voice that sounded more amused than anything else. 

But his tone switched quickly, finding something soft and tender. Another rustling sound, and she just knew that Dream’s hand was flush against George’s cheek out of her sight. “Still sleepy?” 

“Yes!” George groaned. “I’m never going back to London ever again. Flop city in a flop timezone. And I couldn’t even sleep at the same time as you, because of stupid Christmas.” 

“You can nap, if you want,” Dream suggested. “I’ll wake you up at midnight, I promise.” 

George had quit running his hand over Patches’ fur again. She looked up, annoyed, just in time to see him shake his head. “No, I’ll wait. I’m, like, watching this. Besides, I know you’re tired too. You’ve been yawning for hours. It’s – it’s absurd.” 

“What? I’m not going to fall asleep!” Dream protested. “Fine, stay up then. Be – be tired.”

“Fine!” George’s smile was bursting from every bit of his voice. “I will be. We can both stay up together. In sync, or whatever.” 

Neither of them made it until midnight. Patches wasn’t even sure which came first, Dream’s hand stilling in George’s hair or George’s breath getting deep and slow under where she rested. But by the time that the new year came, Patches was watching the TV by herself. She buried her face back into George’s shirt as fireworks erupted outside. They were both so lucky that she loved them.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life in the City 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: Probably calling in today. Also will hopefully be working on more Dirty Work for tomorrow.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’ve been waiting for Friday all week. You need this. A girl’s night, just you and Melanie, a bottle of wine, a bowl of popcorn, and your favourite nostalgic blockbuster. You even got a brand new pair of cozy jammies for the occasion.

And it’s your first official get together at your new apartment. Your very own. No more roommates, no more arguments over dishes and dust and a shared bathroom. It’s all yours! It’s almost like a housewarming, even if it is just a bachelor suite.

A new home, a new city, and an old friend. You haven't seen Melanie in years. You keep in touch here and there but she always seems to have so much going on. Now you're in the same place, it won't be so hard.

You bounce in the door, excited to get started on your prep. You leave your work bag in the entryway beside your shoes as your mind runs a mile ahead of you. You’ll fold out the futon couch and throw all your pillows on it. And the extra comforter can go on top. And you’ll put a scarf over the lamp, oh, and you got some candy for the spread. 

It’s a bit childish but it’s been so long since you could just throw away your daily toil and forget. No overtime, no grind, just a night to reconnect and refresh. You grab your bag from the short hallway and take out the clay masks you bought at the drugstore on your way home, you thought that would be so cute!

You pull out your phone and search for the digital rental on your account, wanting it ready to cast as soon as Melanie’s there. Your screen suddenly lights up with an incoming call, interrupting your browsing. You answer, excitedly greeting your best friend.

“Melly Bean,” you chime, “I was just getting everything ready–”

“Oh, really?” Her voice is willowy, “that’s… I’m sorry.”

“What?” You clutch your hand in front of your stomach, your chest filling with dread. You know that tone.

“I totally forgot and I made other plans–”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s shitty but I really can’t cancel and we can do it next week, right? I’ll host. I have a bottle of rose here, or I could make some sangria–”

“Uh, yeah,” you feel like you’ve been punched, “yeah, sure, that’s… that’s fine. Things happen.” You shake your head at yourself as you try to stem your disappointment, “good thing I didn’t even get started…” You look at the futon, covered in pillows and the fluffy pink duvet, “I actually just got in the door, long day at work–”

“You ready?” A distant, deep voice creeps under your rambling from the speaker.

“Sorry, I gotta go,” she interrupts, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Again, I’m sorry. I’m so stupid. I should’ve put it in my calendar.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure her softly, “call me. Talk later, Mel–”

The line dies before you can finish your sentence. You pull the phone away and frown at the timed out call. You sniff and toss it onto the futon. Well, you can still have a good night. Alone. Catch up on a show and pamper yourself. Your skin is getting a bit patchy.

Or just lay here and watch the same thing you watch every night. Suddenly, you have no energy. You flop onto the mattress, the metal frame creaking loudly, and sigh. Another lazy night, all by yourself.

🏙️

Melanie doesn't answer your call on Saturday. You try not to dwell on it but you know she's not working. Her nine-to-five keeps her planted at her desk Monday to Friday, just like you. Well, you can't be mad at her for having a life.

She texts on Sunday. Just a short but sweet confirmation for next Friday. A heart emoji along with a promise that you'll see each other then. You can bring all your snacks and the face masks, and even your cute new pajamas. Her place must be a lot nicer than yours on her executive assistant salary.

A new week begins but Monday isn't as difficult as usual. You have something to look forward to. Again. This time, it will actually happen.

You spend your days with the spreadsheets and menial reports. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday all blend together into an endless slog but Friday comes around with a special shine. It's the day. 

You breeze through the day, lighter than usual. You even packed everything up so you could commute straight to Melanie's place. She's been texting, saying she's excited. Well, she sent a message at 10:38am. 

It'll be just like in high school, when you sat up all night and giggled. Except this time, you're not too young for the movie you're watching. No, you'll be just like the metropolitan women you watched on the screen, gal pals!

You take the twelve out towards the east side of the city and get off a few blocks from her building, at least according to your GPS. You walk in a full circle before you get your bearings and end up just outside the grated door. You tap the small button to buzz her number and wait. It's a lot fancier than your apartments.

You ring several times without answer, your stomach swimming with nerves. What if she got caught up in something? Could she forget in the  eight hours since her last message? Are you in the wrong place? You check the address again.

You hear someone come up the walkway and sidle aside to let them in. You consider sneaking in after them but you don't know if you should. They might not like that or you might get in trouble. You stand back as the man glances at you and gives a nod. He keys in a code and buzzes himself in. You scrunch your lips, helplessly floundering on the edge of the steps.

"Coming in?" He holds the door.

"Oh, uh," you catch the handle, "sure, I just... my friend wasn't answering."

"No worries, don't look like much of a criminal to me," he kids.

You chuckle quietly, forcing it out nervously as you follow him inside. The entryway is white with silver trimmings and the lobby opens up to a set of two elevators. You look at your phone again, confirming Melanie's apartment number. The man strides on confidently and hits the button, the doors dinging and sliding apart.

"Going up?" He prompts as he puts his hand in front of the censor.

"Uh, sure," you scurry forward. You suppose taking the stairs might be a lot with all the weight in your knapsack.

"Floor?" He trails you into the elevator.

"Um, seventh."

"Ah, what a coincidence," he taps seven and the doors close.

You bring up your chat with Melanie and text her. Hopefully, you're not too early. You don't want to surprise her. You key in that you're there and on your way up.

The door open again and the stranger once more lets you through first. You check the numbers on the plates on the wall; 700 - 710 to the right. You turn and the man heads in the same direction. How awkward. You hold the door to the hallway for him and he catches it, not far behind you. You count the doors until you find 704. 

You stop and knock, stepping closer to let the stranger pass. He doesn't. He stops and laughs as he rubs his palms together. You peek over at him. Oh shoot, you have to be in the wrong place. It explains the no answer and you're standing at his door knocking. You must seem like a crazy person--

The door opens before you can figure out what's going on and Melanie's 'hello' goes from a high squeal to dull disappointment. You look at her as her eyes flit between you and the stranger at your shoulder. She laughs and tosses her hair back.

"Oh, uh, come in," she waves you inside, "movie night, right?"

She rubs her neck as she steps aside, your stomach flipping entirely. Did she forget? Really?

"Um, I forgot to mention..." she says slowly, "Clark's joining us. He's never seen the movie before so I thought..."

"That's fine, but er, I can... just go. I thought..."

"I didn't forget," she insists as the man enters with hesitation, "promise, I just... invited my boyfriend."

"Right, boyfriend," you turn to the stranger, Clark, she said his name is, "hi."

You introduce yourself and he repeats his name. He's handsome and tall. As far as you can tell, he's nice too. The cleft in his chin gives him a rugged handsome news and his eyes a bright and blue. He fits Melanie perfectly. She's changed a lot more than you knew.

You give a strained smile and look around. Her apartment is so nice. You're happy she hadn't seen yours after all. As you try to figure out what to do, she approaches Clark and stands on her toes to kiss him. You keep your eyes on the floor and turn, distracting yourself with your shoes as you peel them off.

"I brought snacks," you say as you unhook your bag from one shoulder, "for the movie--"

"Oh, I'm on a diet. No carbs, no sugar... mostly water and lettuce," she trills, "sorry."

"I...It's okay," you try not to wince as you struggle to free yourself of the heavy bag.

"Here," Clark startles you as he grabs your bag by the handle on top and helps lift it off your left shoulder. You pull your arms free and he carries it to the table, planting it on top beside the tall vase of white orchids. 

"Thanks," you say as you inch forward, anxious about messing up the unlivable pristine apartment, "you can share the snacks... if you're not on a diet."

"I'd love to," he accepts, "should I make up the couch?"

"Uh, sure," Melanie flutters her fingers at him, "I guess that makes sense."

You notice how she bites into her glossy lower lip and looks around desperately. She's wearing a pretty black dress and there's a sparkly clutch on the half-circle table by the wall. You thought Melanie would be your one piece of home in the city but now you feel even more out of place. Uninvited.

"If it's a bad time," you begin.

"I told you," she snips, "I didn't forget. Duh, you think I'm an airhead or something?"

"N-no--"

"I know you went and got your fancy degrees," she sniffs, "but I don't need paper to tell me I have a brain."

"I didn't mean--"

"Mel, cool it," Clark chuckles lightly, "no biggie. I like a night in," he shrugs, "I'll grab some blankets and pillows. We can have a sleepover."

"Sleepover?" She nearly hisses at him, "well, tomorrow--"

"We'll all sleep in and I'll take you ladies to breakfast. Or brunch," he unzips your knapsack and takes out the tall bottle of wine, "depending on how much you indulge." 

"Oh, I can take care of all that," you offer as you near the table.

"You're our guest," he insists as he holds onto the bottle, "hon, you wanna get some glasses?"

You hear the gentle sigh escape Melanie before she replies, "fine."

You wring your hands in front of your chest and hover by the table. You hate this. You feel like you've intruded on their night but you thought...

Your heart sinks as you think of the message; 'looking forward to tonight'. She sent it to the wrong person. She must realise that too.

"Mel will pour us some wine," Clark says loudly, "did you wanna help my grab some blankets and stuff?"

You just nod, thankful for his diversion. Anything to keep you from wallowing in your embarrassment. Everyone there knows you're not supposed to be there. You must seem pathetic.

You follow him down the hall and wait on the other side of the closet door as he opens it. He hands you a folded down duvet. He sends you back to the living room as he goes to grab pillows from the bedroom. You get a glance of the sleek white vanity just as he opens the door.

You turn and traipse back to the front room. You go to the couch and shake out the blanket. You glance over as Melanie slurps loudly from a stemmed glass, the other two are unpoured.

"Really, Mel, I can just go--"

"No, it's fine," she huffs, "I don't want him to think I'm some sort of bitch."

"Oh, I wasn't--"

"You don't call to confirm?" She accuses.

"I texted and I buzzed--"

She shushes you as she hears Clark coming back down the hall. You leave the blanket across the sofa and go to the table. You pour the other two glasses and step back, too uneasy to claim one of your own. Instead, you busy yourself unpacking the snacks but you don't even know if you'll have any yourself.

"You girls sit," Clark insists as he drops the pillows on the sofa, "I'll get everything ready. Oh, hon, you should go put some pajamas on, get in the spirit. You could lend some to your friend too."

"Erm, I brought my own," you offer, "just... thought they were cute."

"Amazing, you two get changed, get cozy, and get the movie going," he grabs the bag of chips from your hands, "oh, and I'll get those kernels popping."

You nod and swallow as Melanie struts out without looking back. You retrieve your pajamas from your bag, brushing close to Clark by accident, and apologise. You quickly flit away to follow her, chasing after her right before she can close you out. You need to find an excuse to get out. Then you can think of how to say sorry for spoiling her date,

[patrollingboston]

Before The Dive

Sorry for the mini break!! I have been busy, but now It is summer break and we can all relax…

Pre- Outbreak Austin

Sunlight caressed Della’s face, making her eyes flutter open. She turned her head toward Joel, his hands steady on the steering wheel, sunglasses perched on his nose, the soft hum of tires rolling over highway blending with laughter from the backseat.

Beautiful countryside zipped past the window, all golden fields and big skies. Casey and Sarah giggled behind them, their joy bubbling up like soda in the summer heat.

Joel had convinced Della to join him for a swim at the local lake — Sarah apparently loved it, and once Casey caught wind of the idea, she begged her mom to say yes. With a cooler packed full of beers and juice boxes, the four of them had hit the road.

Della wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she felt it — that slow, steady pull toward Joel. The kind that settled in your chest before your mind could catch up. He cared about her. He showed up. That counted for more than most things these days.

“Are we almost there?” A small voice piped up from the backseat.

Joel glanced in the mirror, his eyes peeling off the road just for a second.

“Bout ten minutes.”

Della let out a long sigh, fanning herself with exaggerated flair. “Honest to God, it’s so hot today I might have to cannonball straight into that lake.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and easy. “Sorry, miss high and mighty — next time I’ll make sure the aircon works just for you.”

His Southern accent melted over his words like honey on warm bread — slow, familiar, impossible to ignore.

“Oh, be quiet, you.”

She flashed a smile, teeth bright in the sunlight, and Joel’s stomach flipped like he’d hit a pothole.

He raised one hand from the wheel, slow and unsure, and rested it gently on Della’s bare thigh — a small, daring gesture that sent sparks flickering across her skin. Her heart leapt like it had somewhere to be.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

“Don’t go deep, you two!”

Della cupped her hands around her mouth like a makeshift megaphone, watching as Casey and Sarah tore off into the shallows of the lake — laughter and shrieks echoing across the water as the cold hit their skin.

“They’ll be fine — lifeguard’s posted,” Joel said, unfurling a towel on the patchy sand where weeds poked through like reminders, they were deep in the country. He wore a dark navy t-shirt, sweat already pooling around the collar, and a pair of black swim trunks.

It was the most skin Della had ever seen on him.

She tied her curls into a loose bun, more concerned with protecting them from the lake water than how it looked. Her swimsuit was simple, modest — just enough to leave room for Joel’s imagination to wander.

She sat with her knees tucked to her chest, eyes flicking back and forth from the girls to Joel, careful to keep her gaze neutral. But he caught her looking. Of course he did.

“You gettin’ in?” he asked, standing up, then tugged his shirt over his head in one clean motion.

Her eyes stuttered. Her breath did too. She tried not to stare. She really did.

“Yeah, course.”

Della hopped off the towel and padded toward the lake.

“Goddamn, it’s freezing,” she hissed, the shallow waves licking at her ankles like ice water. “How are y’all already swimming?” she called toward the girls.

Joel, grinning like a man ten years younger, charged past her and dove headfirst into the water, surfacing seconds later with Sarah scooped up in his arms like a prize.

“Mommy, come on!” Casey called, water splashing around her.

Della waded in slowly, each step a small battle against the chill climbing up her legs. The water swallowed her inch by inch, but so did something else — a feeling she wasn’t ready to name.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Della sat at the edge of the shore, legs stretched out as the lake’s gentle waves lapped over her skin. Her gaze lingered on Joel — knee-deep in the water, laughing as Casey and Sarah splashed him relentlessly. Her heart fluttered watching Casey’s smile, so wide, so free.

Even though none of it was her fault, guilt still pressed against her ribs like a weight she couldn’t shift. Casey had grown up without a dad. Watching her like this — giddy, unguarded with Joel — it stirred something bittersweet in Della’s chest. Something she didn’t quite know what to do with.

“Della?”

A small voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Sarah stood nearby, eyes uncertain.

“Yeah hon, you okay?”

“I think I got somethin’ in my hair… Can you get it out for me, please?”

Della smiled gently.

“Course. C’mere, let me have a look.”

Sarah plopped down in front of her without hesitation. Della sifted through the girl’s thick, springy curls.

“Just a little bit of seaweed,” she said, flicking it away. “Want me to braid it? Might be easier for swimmin’.”

“You know how?” Sarah’s face lit up like Della had just offered her a crown.

“Mhm. Got a tie, too. I keep it for Casey but—truth be told—I usually end up stealin’ it for myself.”

She started braiding, fingers nimble and practiced, tugging gently at each section. Sarah hummed quietly, shoulders relaxed, completely trusting.

Out in the lake, Joel hoisted Casey into the air, her laughter ringing loud across the water, full of joy and mischief. Della looked up just in time to catch Joel watching her.

Their eyes locked.

He’d noticed what she was doing. Braiding Sarah’s hair. Caring for her like she was her own.

His expression softened, a small, knowing smile creasing the corners of his eyes. It was subtle, but Della felt it deep — a silent acknowledgment between them.

To anyone else, they might’ve looked like the perfect family. And for a second, it almost felt like they were.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The campfire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across Joel’s face as smoke curled gently into the night sky. Della sat beside him, wrapped in the lingering warmth of the day and the scent of charred wood. Behind them, Casey and Sarah slept soundly in the truck bed, bundled in blankets beneath a blanket of stars.

In Della’s hand was a polaroid — their smiles frozen mid-laugh, limbs tangled with affection. One for the mantelpiece, she thought. If only life were that simple.

“Today was really lovely, Joel — honest.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He shifted on the ground, elbows on his knees, staring into the fire like it held something he’d lost.

“You doin’ okay?” She laughed, but there was a nervous tilt to it.

“I really like you, Della,” he said eventually, voice low, like he was afraid saying it too loud would make it untrue. “The way you treat Sarah like she’s your own — it just…”

Della smiled, brushing a curl behind her ear, heart hitching.

“She’s a beautiful little girl,” she replied. “You’re raisin’ her right.”

Joel nodded; gaze still fixed on the flames.

“Casey’s got your smile,” he added, quieter now — hoarse, like the words were caught on something raw inside him.

Della’s chest ached.

Their first kiss came softly, clumsy yet certain. The stars seemed to lean in with them, and the moon traced their profiles in silver. Della’s hands slid gently to Joel’s face, fingers threading into his beard, feeling the texture of him, the reality of him.

His breath warmed her cheek. Then their lips met.

It wasn’t fireworks. It wasn’t loud. It was quiet and complete, like two puzzle pieces finally finding each other in the dark.

For a moment, that was all there was — his mouth on hers, the taste of salt and smoke, and the slow collapse of everything she thought she knew about him.

But something shifted.

Joel leaned in deeper, more desperate now, his hands roaming her waist, finding her back, her ribs. Her own fingers dug into his shoulders. Breath tangled. Fabric rustled. The night pulsed with heat.

“Mmm… Joel—stop. Not here.”

She pulled back, breath ragged, eyes scanning his face. He looked dazed — lips parted; brows drawn — like he’d come up for air after drowning.

“Sorry,” he murmured, glancing away. “I got carried away.”

“No…” She reached for his leg, resting her hand softly on his thigh. “I loved it.”

He looked at her again, and this time, his eyes weren’t just hungry — they were hopeful.

[leorioscanonwife]

♡ “Hunted Hearts” ♡ (A Leorio x Jolie fanfic)

✎ Comedy, Fluff, Hunter x Hunter Fanfic, Leorio x OC, Leorio x Self Insert

✎ Phase 3 of the Hunter Exam

✎ 700 Words

The forest buzzed with tension. The sun was high, casting patchy shadows through the trees, and every rustle, every snapped twig could mean a hunter or hunted.

Jolie crouched in the bushes, wide orange eyes locked onto a tall figure in a blue suit as he tiptoed past a tree—badly. He wasn’t her target. Not even close.

But she had emotionally tagged him with her Nen days ago—and she’d be damned if she didn’t use that for something fun.

She scribbled in her sketchbook while keeping one eye on him, tongue between her lips in concentration.

Stalking Leorio Log, entry seven: Still clueless. Still hot. Still walks like he’s never seen a forest in his life.

Leorio, meanwhile, felt like he was being watched. Again.

“…Weird,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. “Probably a squirrel.”

He turned back around and nearly jumped out of his skin when Jolie popped out from behind a tree right in front of him.

“Hi!” she chirped.

“AH—!” Leorio flailed back. “J-JOLIE?! What the—How did you—?! Are you following me?!”

She smiled so sweetly it was alarming. “Maaaaaybe.”

“…Am I your target?”

“Nope!”

He blinked. “So you’re just stalking me… for fun?”

“Uh-huh!” She gave him a thumbs up. “You’re cute.”

Leorio stared at her, at her little heart stickered cheeks and innocent grin, and felt something stir deep in his soul. It was protective instinct. Probably. Or something like it.

“You are… too sweet to be out here alone,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone else is going full bloodthirsty-mode and you’re out here being adorable and drawing people. You’re gonna get hurt.”

She tilted her head. “Aw, are you worried about me?”

“Of course I am,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’re tiny. You sparkle when you walk. You look like you wandered out of a magical girl anime and into a murder game.”

“That’s kinda the vibe I’m going for, actually.”

He sighed. “Alright. I’ll protect you.”

Jolie blinked. “You will?”

Leorio nodded, serious now. “Yeah. I mean it. You’re sticking with me from now on. Anyone tries to mess with you, they’ll have to go through me.”

Jolie’s eyes sparkled. “That’s so romantic.”

“It’s basic human decency.”

She leaned in, pouting slightly. “Still romantic.”

Later that evening, they found a quiet spot to rest under the trees. Jolie curled up beside him, legs tucked under her, sketchbook half-finished in her lap. Leorio yawned and sat down beside her, stretching out.

“I’m just saying,” she said dreamily, “if we were the last two people in the exam, I’d totally let you win.”

“…You would?”

She nodded. “Yup. But I’d cry about it later.”

Leorio stared at her again. She was just too much. Way too cute. Her hair reminded him of cotton candy and her laugh made his brain short-circuit.

“Hey,” she added suddenly, “I never told you—I turned eighteen right before the exam started.”

Leorio blinked. “Oh… nice. Happy birthday, I guess?”

She giggled. “Thanks. I mostly just said it because I thought you were like… thirty.”

Leorio made a choking sound. “THIRTY?! I’m nineteen!!”

She stared. “…What.”

“I’m nineteen!” he repeated, face red. “Nineteen!”

Jolie slumped dramatically. “Ugh. That’s so boring. I was really into the whole ‘older mysterious man’ thing…”

Leorio looked personally offended. “You wanted me to be thirty?!”

“Well, yeah,” she said, matter of fact. “Sad older man energy is hot.”

He covered his face. “I’m literally still a teenager!”

She poked his shoulder. “At least you look older. That helps.”

Leorio groaned into his hands.

Jolie yawned and leaned into him, head on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I still like you.”

“…Why?”

“You’re cute when you panic.”

Leorio opened his mouth to argue, but she was already dozing off beside him. He sighed—and, unable to help himself, leaned just the tiniest bit closer and took a slow, sneaky sniff of her hair.

Strawberry.

He grinned. Then immediately panicked.

She didn’t move. Then, just when he relaxed—

“You’re sniffing my hair.”

His soul left his body. “I—what? No. That’s crazy. Who would—”

Jolie opened one eye. “You’re weird.”

“Are you mad?”

“Nope,” she murmured. “I like weird.”

And just like that, she snuggled closer to him, making Leorio feel like he was absolutely doomed.

[mannequinreligi0n]

Hiii!!

I loove your fics and lately I've been begging for some new Nero fics 🫡🫡

Could I request a fic with Nero and fem!reader where they're really good friends and yknow It's really cold outside and they both have to stay in an inn. Maybe one of the two offers their bed? And they both finally give in after a long while of hidding their feelings.

I really really crave some cute fluffy Nero smut, reader being her first🤭

Don't stress too much about this, and of course you can choose to write it or not!!

Thank you sweetie🫶🫶

ty for this !! i love a good ‘oh noooo, there’s only one bed’ trope.

tbh im not the biggest nero lover so this was a slight challenge but it ended up pretty good and a lot longer than expected lol. i also didn’t know how to end it but i hope you enjoy !!!!

Two Pals, One Bed

an unexpected storm puts you and nero in an unlikely situation

PAIRING: DMC5 Nero x afab reader

WARNINGS: (NSFW!: first-time/virgin!reader, fingering, penetration)

WORD COUNT: 2k

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

The sheets of rain pounded on the windshield of the van, making visibility hard on the patchy road. You flicked out the wrinkles in the map, squinting in the light of your phone to see the web of routes.

“Can’t see a damn foot in front of me like this.”, Nero grumbled from the driver’s seat. “No thanks to you, by the way.”

His pointed blame made you crinkle the map in your hands. You both had been driving for seemingly hours, trying to make it home from a job, but the storm was making it hard to navigate the backroads.

“There’s an inn after the next right, we’ll duck from the rain til morning.”

Nero sighed and shook his head. “We would’ve been home by now, if it wasn’t for your dumbass.” He peered over the steering wheel, on the lookout for the upcoming turn.

“Nuh uh,”, you started, a scowl on your face, “don’t pin this on me! I don’t control the weather.”

“Whatever.”

Nero makes the right and after a couple miles of silence, the faint beacon of lit windows pierces through the gloom. Pulling into the lot in front of the inn, Nero parks the car and hops out. You follow suit and hastily trail behind him, using your bag as cover from the harsh rain. Entering the inn, you walk slowly to examine the tacky decor - artificial fish and paintings of sunny beaches mocking your drenched clothes. Nero makes a beeline to the front desk and is quick to return with a set of keys in hand.

“We got lucky. Seems like everyone had the same idea, but they had one room left.” Nero pats you on the shoulder and cocks his head toward the direction of the stairs. “C’mon.”

You nod and follow Nero up the stairs to your appointed room, sighing in relief to be out of the storm. Nero drops his backpack on the desk and stares at the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room.

“……..one bed.”

“One bed.”, you repeat. It seems that the universe thought it would be funny if you two shared a bed after a night of endless bickering and side-eyes. You eventually shrug and flop down on the bed, looking up at Nero. “I mean, we’ve slept in worse conditions, right? You remember the cyclops cave?”

That earns a tiny smile from him, chiseling away at the tension from earlier.

“Thanks for reminding me. It’s not like I spend every waking moment trying to forget the smell of decay and ball sweat.”

You both laugh and you feel the frustration slowly leave your body. Nero digs around his bag for a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom to change. You take this as your cue to do the same, pulling out a clean shirt and pair of underwear and discarding your old ones in the corner of the room. You crawl into the bed, flicking on the tv and settling in. Nero returns a few minutes later, changed and seemingly back to his easy-going self. He switches off the lights and gets into the bed, leaving some space between you both. You both watch a rerun of an old sitcom before Nero breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. You were only trying to help, and I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

The apology doesn’t take you completely by surprise, considering that Nero is the most levelheaded person you know, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You pull the covers up over you, sinking down to lay on your pillow as you address him.

“Don’t worry about it, Nero. We’ve had a long day and have gotten thrown every which way - it’s no one’s fault. Besides, I’m happy it was with you and not with anyone else, it could’ve gone a lot worse.”

Nero nods in agreement but he’s not lost on the subtle flirting in your last sentence. Nero glances down at you resting form, your eyes trained on the tv mounted to the wall. For the past few weeks, it seems you two have been dancing around the obvious for the sake of staying focused on work. But considering that you both are literally in the same bed, it’s hard to ignore now. You look up to him, his face turning a pretty pink from being caught staring.

“Was there something else?”, you ask, noting his blush.

“You’re really pretty.”

Nero blurts out the compliment, heart starting to pick up from embarrassment. ‘Reaaaal smooth, Nero. Bet Dante would get a kick out of this’, he thinks to himself. Your own face turns red in response, a shy smile on your face.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” Nero starts, sliding down to be beside you under the covers. “And smart, funny, brave.”

You stare at him with awe, in disbelief that those words left his mouth. Without another breath, you lean to the side where he’s laying and kiss him. It’s a gentle, tentative kiss, but full of meaning and longing. Nero’s brain short-circuits and it takes a second before he returns the kiss. Slow and cautious, your mouths explore this newfound feeling. Without breaking away, Nero rolls on top of you, hands running up your sides. Feelings of excitement and anxiety intermingle in your stomach and you break the kiss to look up at him, eyes wide. Nero returns the look with concern, his hand cupping your face.

“You okay? Did…did I do something wrong?”

“No, I-“, you cut yourself off, building up confidence before speaking again. “I need to tell you something.”

Nero raises his eyebrows, interest piqued. “You know you can tell me anything.”

You gulp and take a deep breath, making sure that this is really happening. You look down at the empty space between the two of you as you speak. “I’ve never gone this far with anyone.” You pause, frowning slightly. “I mean, I’ve messed around but I’ve never actually….slept with anyone before.”

Nero runs a hand over your hair and kisses your forehead sweetly. There’s a clear look of understanding on his face. “Y/N, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. And if you don’t wanna do anything now, I won’t hold that against you either.”

“I want to, I’m just nervous.” Your eyes have a vulnerability to them, like you’re already standing there naked in front of him.

“It’s okay to be nervous. Fuck, I’m nervous. But, it’ll be okay, as long as you enjoy it. And if you change your mind or need me to stop, that’s okay, too.”

With his reassurance, you nod and pull him back down to reinstate the kiss. Nero sighs into your mouth, happy to be connected again. You feel his hands snake down to your thighs, running over the exposed skin with light touches. As scared as you were, everything felt right in this moment. Your own shaky hands moved to tug at his shirt to help him out of it. Nero yanks the shirt over his head before reaching to pull down your underwear. He stops and looks up at you, waiting for the green light from you; you give him an eager nod and he proceeds. You feel his fingers brush against your sensitive bud and your breathing hitches in your chest. His fingers move slow, tracing circles into your flesh as his mouth trails sweet kisses to your ear.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Nero’s soft voice and tender touches elicits a moan from you, almost forgetting to reply to him. You turn to look at him and mumble a ‘yes’ out, hips rocking against his hand. Nero hums in content, moving his fingers to your already wet slit. He toys with the hole for a moment, testing the waters in case you change your mind. By the way you’re sighing and whimpering, he takes it as his sign to go on, pushing in two fingers slowly. Your back arches, jaw dropping silently. Pumping slowly in and out, his strong, slender fingers tease your g-spot. Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping onto him for support. Minutes go by as your climax builds up, your walls pulsing around his fingers. Before you can warn him of the oncoming wave, his fingers slip out, making you groan in disappointment. He laughs at your noise, slipping off the rest of his clothes.

“Easy, tiger. I got more to give, believe me.”, he chuckles. Leaning down to kiss you once more, he positions himself between your legs. “Ready, pretty girl?”

You nod and smile into his mouth. “Ready.”

Aligning with your slick, Nero pushes into you with a moan of satisfaction. You bury your head in his neck, stifling a cry from being stretched. Nero’s arm comes up to wrap around your head protectively, cradling you in comfort. Once fully in, he stays still to let you adjust to the new feeling. You feel your breathing slow down and you nod again, letting him know it’s okay to move. His cock slips almost completely out of you until he pushes it back in, repeating this until he creates a steady, sensual rhythm. Mewls from you are muffled by how close Nero’s holding you - his free hand hooking under one of your knees to lift you ever so slightly. Over and over, the head of his cock hits that sweet spot and you feel your orgasm start to build back up, ready to satisfy the delay from earlier. The moment feels surreal, considering how many times you’ve dreamt of this moment, and you flex your fingers every now and then to remind yourself it’s really happening.

You look out from your safe place in Nero’s neck and see him above you - eyes shut, mouth ajar, and a sheen layer of sweat making him glisten in the light of the tv still playing. The display from him is what sets you off, knowing that you’re the cause of it. Your core tightens and those familiar electric pulses make your body quiver with pleasure.

“O-oh, god, that feels so good…. I’m gonna…gonna…”

“Let it out, I’ve got you.”

The encouragement from Nero is all you need to let go, a wave of pleasure taking over all of your senses. Your legs shake around Nero and a sound you’ve never heard from yourself before fills the room. Fuelled by your reactions, Nero chases after his own high, fucking into you passionately. Sweat dripping down his face, he looks down at you with an adoring smile before his eyes squeeze shut, followed by a series of whimpers and curses. Your walls milk him free of every drop of seed, the feeling overwhelming for him. You stare up at him in awe, your vision going in and out from your own orgasm.

His thrusts slow to a stop, allowing him to collapse on you. Both of you lay there panting, the heat of your bodies almost overbearing. You run your hand up and down Nero’s back, soothing him through the end of his orgasm. Eventually, Nero lifts his head and gives you a weak kiss, bumping his nose to yours.

“You did great, y/n. Seriously, that was….”

“Amazing.”, you finish for him, a giggle following it.

“Yeah, that.”

Nero pushes himself up and out of you, rolling onto his back beside you. He reaches over and pulls you into his arms, stationing you to lay on his chest. You can hear his heart thumping strongly, beating a lullaby to you.

“Get some rest, beautiful. You’ve earned it after that.”

You start to protest sleep but a yawn betrays you, realizing how warm and safe you feel in Nero’s arms. As minutes pass, your eyes grow heavier and soon close for the night, your breathing deep and slow. Nero’s hands tangle in the strands of your hair, twirling them mindlessly until sleep triumphs over him as well.

[nicstylus]

Fellow SP fan artist here, do you have any tips on designing sigils? I’d love to draw China more but any time I try my hand at putting sigils on her, they never feel quite right. Do you have a process on figuring sigils out?

Hello! This turned into a REALLY long post I'm so sorry, but I'm flattered you're asking me for advice! Take everything I say with a grain of salt bc there are absolutely no thoughts in my head :]

Okay, here's a secret. You can't tell anyone okay? It's suuuuper important that we gatekeep this. /j I go into a sigil design with absolutely no idea what's going to come out of it. Maybe I have like a very basic shape in mind, but generally I just scribble until something pops out at me and then I keep adding stuff and erasing until a cool design happens. I come up with the meanings as an afterthought, and usually only if someone asks about them; Skulduggery's right facade sigil is the one exception because I went into designing that with the reflections sigil in mind. My China's tattoos are all designed with only 'ooo that looks cool' in mind.

Under the cut: My personal process, How to design sigils (with n without function in mind,) references, and two of my super secret!! canvases

Warnings: doll-like nutity, blood and burns, a lil angst

Here's my personal process: - Scribble - oh I like that shape - make thicker and erase designs into it - Figure out where it would fit on her body - Panic when someone asks what it means - Gaslight myself into seeing a function - Profit

How to design sigils:

Think about where it's going to go on the body.

The back is a bigger canvas than the forearm. What will fit there?

If you're designing sigils with a function in mind:

Is the function used often? It should be easily accessible.

Is the function an emergency or last resort? You shouldn't be able to bump it, but it should still be easy to reach.

Arms, face, and chest are easy to reach. Legs are harder and you need wiggle room. Palms, hips and thighs are good for subtle taps or stealth sigils. Are your hands bound behind your back? What can you put within reach that will help?

What shapes resonate with the function? Triangles could mean fiery or offensive functions. Squares could be defensive. Circles are good catch-all designs. Circles are very magicy

If you're designing sigils without function in mind:

Think about design: Use negative space! Use thick lines or thin lines or both! Overlap shapes and angles! What looks cool?

Do you want them to all flow together? Do you want patchwork? Both are valid! Maybe one arm is a sleeve, and one is patchy!

You can design the sigil first and figure out where it fits on the body, or you can keep the body part in mind while you're designing.

I like thicker sigils/designs, so I start with a blob of ink or a solid shape and erase until something pops out at me.

For thinner designs, the opposite applies. Scribble until something resonates with you or looks cool. What shapes go together?

I like to write little sigil 'letters' alongside thick lines or shapes.

Have fun with it! You can figure out technical stuff later, or never!

References:

I like to use the Twilight Princess Hylian alphabet if I get stuck, or if I have a function in mind. If you glue a bunch of letters together and erase bits, eventually something looks magicy! (Different Zelda titles have different Hylian letters, so you could mix n match as well)

Maybe you use a different sort of script you like. Maybe a code or sorts, or icons from medias you like. Take letters or characters from languages and warp them into something that looks like a sigil

How badly can you draw a 5? There's a sigil! Can you use dots instead of lines? Now add random lines! There's a sigil!

Circles are always good starting points. Eyes are good details. Egyptian glyphs and runes are good starting points. Just make sure not to rip anyone off :]

My China only has like two or three sigils that I went in knowing what I wanted it to look like overall, and those are: - The huge sigil wheel on her back, which I knew I wanted to be a a big circle with swirling symbols and such. - The belt-like design around her waist, I knew I wanted those to look like the top of Midna's Helmet - The upside down crown like triangles on her forehead (which have sort of changed to how I wanted them originally) and the designs under her eyes and on her chin and throat. There's many ways to come up with sigils, and here's another secret: They don't all have to have meaning! My China has a ton of designs, but I've only assigned functions to a handful of them

Keeping it consistent:

I also have a 'China sigil map' I have for reference, but it's not even fully filled out because I got distracted. If part of her skin is visible and I haven't drawn that part of her body before (like the ONE time I drew her back, or her left leg or something) I come up with the sigil then and there xD If you're interested, this is what my 'sigil map' reference canvas looks like. It's nowhere near complete and frankly, a huge mess: but it works for me. Started this like a year ago and just kept adding to it when I needed to

Here's my canvas of previous China references I use to keep everything consistent

Here's where I started rambling and I can't be bothered to edit it, so its prob repetitive lol

One tip I do have is decide if you want thin or thick designs. My China started off with thin and squiggly sigils, which ultimately I never actually liked, but now she has thicker tattoos and I think it feels more athetotic If you go a thinner route, I recommend using lots of squirls and angles together and finding one basic shape and then adding to that. A good example of this are my facade tattoo designs, where I took the reflections sigil and altered it, or took the hourglass shape and added smaller designs around it. However, if you go with thicker designs like I have, ERASE more than you draw. I start with a blob of ink, and then erase designs into it. I reallllly like how negative space is used in tattoos and think about that as I'm designing Chinas sigils as well.

If you're going into designing a sigil with the intent of 'this is going to make her skin hard like iron' then think about where she would logically put it? - To me, that sounds like a 'tap the chest' sort of sigil. The chest is a bigger canvas than a forearm or something, so it can be bigger and more detailed. - Maybe instead, it's two sigils, one on each arm, and she crosses her arms to active it. Okay, that's two smaller sigils bc you have less space for detail. - What reminds you of iron skin? It's defensive, so that makes me think of squares and hard angles. Maybe you straight up draw a shield shape and erase markings into said shield. yeah sigils n stuff! Thanks for the ask and hopefully this was somewhat helpful :]

[love-triangles-au]

What do you think?

Oh I love this!! I love biology and did some school projects on dog and cat genetics, so you're totally speaking my language!

It's probably worth noting that Venuz is not a Euclydian, so his genetic makeup is entirely different from Bill and his family's and they could not reproduce. He is from a line of leucistic Alabasters, so his white is not typical "spotting" but rather a genetic mutation.

My main question with this system is where an "irregular" (non-equilateral) shape would go. We know they exist since Bill mentions rhombuses and trapezoids in TBoB. Also, do all Euclidyans have the same brick patterning, or does it vary?

Regardless, I think this is a super awesome headcanon. Ours are a bit different, but since it's all speculation there really is no right or wrong answer, and I think your interpretation is absolutely fantastic. Since you shared yours with us and clearly spent a long time considering it, I wanted to come up with my own genetic system that fits with Minty and I's hcs to share with you!

(Bear in mind that as much as I adore biology, I have never formally studied it, so if any of this seems like total cap please do let me know so that I can learn more!)

All (physiologically typical) Euclydians actually display both red, blue, AND yellow pigments (alongside melanin) in the form of chromatophores above white! The natural color of a Euclydian (i.e., Bill's yellow) is not actually a result of pigmentation, but determined by the resting state of the microscopic muscles that control the chromatophores.

It took me a very long time to workshop what I think that would look like on the loci, but here's what I came up with:

Again, crucially, this is in a resting state. Even a rrbbyymm Euclydian could flash any color of the rainbow if they consciously chose to do so!

To encourage color diversity, I also wanted there to be a natural inclination towards heterozygous allele pairs (mismatched alleles. i.e., Rr rather than RR or rr). I think heterozygous individuals may have better control over their chromatophores and a better metabolism, possibly use less energy to change color. In fact, I think pure dominance in these loci may result in a higher chance to end up with chronic fatigue due to metabolic strain, maybe pure dominant individuals are prone to overheating as well?

If natural selection was in play, this would naturally make homozygous pairs (matched alleles. i.e., RR and rr) rarer, but, since it isn't, I'm thinking that each pigment allele also has a slight bias towards segregating away from the same alleles during gamete formation (I believe this is called a meiotic drive? Still not entirely sure how it works but I know it does happen).

Instead of a dilution locus, the basal color is white, which allows pastel tones when the chromatophores are more contracted. The reason I chose white as the base is so that they can truly be any color, as pigment mixes subtractively (that is, like paint: mixing every color would create black rather than white as with light).

Limbs are often darker than the main body as chromatophores are denser in those areas. I imagine this may be to shield the flesh as the limbs are softer than the main body.

As for patterning, I'm not totally sure! White spotting as in mammals wouldn't function in this system since the skin is already white, but I did think that maybe a locus that determines how spaced-apart the chromatophores are might be interesting. Something like CC/Cc/cc where CC = high density with rich and smooth color expression; Cc = medium density, maybe prone to speckling or gradation; and cc = low density with patchy coloring.

For shape, I'm even less certain, as I only ever really did my projects on pigments, but I kind go by Flatland rules where equilaterals have a small chance for their offspring to gain a side. Not sure how this would work genetically and I've been working on this for hours so will let you decide lol!

Hope you enjoy, I know I did! Thanks again for sharing, I love your art!

~ Mod Emily 🦇

[oneshotnewbie]

Carina&Maya x daughter

Daughter is old enough to go do things on her own or with a few friends like go to the movies or a restaurant. All she has to do is tell her mom’s where she’s going. Daughter is informed about a little get together at a friends house after going out for dinner, daughter told Maya and Carina she was going out for dinner but not the “after party.” Daughter knows she wouldn’t be allowed to go because it was at a house her moms were unfamiliar with.

Daughter ends up going to the party and tells herself she will only be another hour or so, but time slips away. The party is held in the basement so cell service is pretty much zero.

The party has drinking but daughter know better than to take it. However daughter has a severe allergy to peanuts. There was a table full of snacks and miscellaneous things, nothing was labeled. Everyone was having a good time and daughter wasn’t thinking about anything, she was eating a cookie that was on a platter on the table and she really enjoyed it. The person who brought them said to her “oh yeah those are my mom’s famous cookies” about 5 mins later daughter started to feel really warm and her face was becoming very red and patchy. She collapsed. Her one friend asked what was in the cookies and sure enough they were peanut butter cookies. All of the underage teens were freaking out while someone called 911

Carina was working but Maya had the day off. Andy and Victoria arrived to the house with the aid car. They got to the basement and realized it was (daughter) and acted fast and took her to the hospital. Once settled in the hospital Andy got ahold of her moms to tell them.

So sorry this is long! Thoughts? I know a peanut allergy is cliché but I didn’t want the daughter to drink knowing she can’t go behind her mom’s backs like that. It was just a bunch of preteens thinking they were cool cause they stole a few drinks from their parents cabinets (I’m thinking parents aren’t home) anywhooo I hope this is okay :)) -🦋

ᕚ---ᕘ

Maya Bishop and Carina Deluca were preparing for their upcoming shift at Station 19 that afternoon. The sounds of running engines and the occasional ringing of the duty telephone filled the air as the blonde checked the equipment. Carina, meanwhile, counted the supplies so that the aid car team could make the best possible care of an injury before she made her way back to Grey Sloan.

The two of them were completely absorbed in their work and did not notice a person, a young girl, walking through the open gates, a bright smile and lively eyes betraying anticipation. "Hey, mom, hey mama." You greeted your mothers cheerfully and they both turned around in shock, but returned the smile when they noticed that it was none other than you.

"Hey my sweet. What brings you here?" Maya asked, now completely turning away from her work and giving you your full attention.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm going out to dinner with some friends at a restaurant tonight," you explained excitedly, pushing yourself into her outstretched arms. "It's nothing special, just a casual meeting."

Maya and Carina exchanged a look and couldn't suppress their smiles when they heard the news. "That sounds great, y/n. Thanks for coming over and letting us know. Which restaurant are you going to?"

You thought for a moment, briefly checking your phone to tell them the real name of the restaurant. "We decided on a restaurant named 'La Trattoria'. It's not far from here and apparently has great pasta. Y/bf/n drives us there and she also takes me home afterwards."

"That sounds like a good choice, bella," Carina agreed, giving you a small kiss on the cheek as a late greeting and early goodbye. "Have fun and take care. Don't forget to let us know when you're home safely."

"Of course, mama. I'll watch the clock and send you a text. See you later!" you nodded to them as you waved goodbye and left the fire station. A contented sigh escaped the brunette as she watched you go. "Our daughter is growing up, isn't she?"

Maya nodded to her and crossed the last few centimeters that separated her from her wife. Her arms wrapped tightly around her middle from behind while her head rested on her shoulder. "Yes, she's getting older and more independent. But as long as she always informs us where she's going, everything will be fine," she murmured, her gaze shifting towards the open gates where you had recently disappeared entirely.

Meanwhile, your best friend intercepted you on a corner near the fire station and took you with her. You entered the cozy Italian restaurant 'La Trattoria' and were greeted by the tempting smell of pasta and pizza. You both looked around for your other friends and found them already sitting at a table near the window, waiting for you. With a smile you both walked over and sat down.

As you ate together in a cozy atmosphere, the conversation was lively and funny, and you felt comfortable in the company of your closest friends when suddenly one of your friends' cell phone rang. He immediately pulled it out of his pocket and saw a message from one of her friends sending him the address to a party.

"Hey, did you also get the chain message from the party?" he whispered excitedly, placing his open phone on the table to show everyone the online flyer he had received. You raised your eyes and listened intently, not focusing on the phone. "What party do you mean? Where is it?"

Your friend grinned widely. "A huge house party at Jason's, the guy a grade above us. Everyone's talking about it. It's supposed to be legendary!"

You felt a tightening in your stomach and your heart began to beat faster. A party sounded tempting, but you also knew that your mothers had only allowed you to go out to eat with your friends. The idea of telling them you wanted to go to a party afterwards made you feel uneasy.

"When is the party?" You asked uncertainly, taking a sip of your cool drink, not knowing if you should go. "It's supposed to start at 9 p.m. That's still two hours away. Are you in?"

You hesitated for a moment, torn. Should you go? Your mind raced as you weighed the consequences. On one hand, you knew that it would be a violation of your mothers' trust if you just went to a party without telling them. On the other hand, you also knew that you probably wouldn't get permission to go there if you asked.

"What's up, are you okay?" your best friend asked, noticing your hesitation. You bit your lip, unsure of what to do. "It's nothing, I'm in."

Your friends cheered and immediately started making plans for the party as they got back to their food. You tried to suppress your rising doubts. It was just a party for 9th and 10th graders and you were only going to stop by for an hour anyway. What could possibly go wrong?

When it came time to leave for the party, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had decided not to say anything to Maya and Carina and you really hoped that everything would go well.

On the way to the party, you tried to get excited about the night ahead, but a small part of your conscience nagged at you. You knew you should be honest with your mothers, but in that moment you couldn't ignore the urge for freedom and adventure.

Several minutes later and a sigh of inner conflict, you entered the basement to the party and immersed yourself in the vibrant atmosphere of the night. The music was ringing in your ears and people were happily dancing together, immediately feeling alive. You glanced at the clock and repeatedly promised yourself that you would only stay for an hour.

But time flew by. The music, the laughter and the excitement of the people around you captivated you. Hours passed and you found yourself getting deeper into the party. But at some point you noticed that your cell phone had no reception when you wanted to look at the clock. Panic rose in you as you realized that you couldn't tell your parents that you were going to be away longer than planned. But the thought was quickly overshadowed by the party atmosphere and you decided not to worry. It would be fine.

As the night progressed, the celebrations became wilder. Drinks were passed around with a stronger percentage and you were asked to join in more often. But you knew you couldn't go too far. Despite the fun you had, you kept a clear head and stayed away from alcohol. Instead, you decided to indulge in the delicious snacks that lay in the corner of the room.

The table was covered with a variety of goodies: chips, candy, cookies and other tempting things. You smiled as you approached and began exploring the different options. You grabbed a small plate and began placing a selection of the snacks on it.

As you looked further around the table, you noticed a platter of particularly tempting looking cookies. They were perfectly formed and looked incredibly delicious. You couldn't resist and reached for one of the cookies.

You took a bite, closing your eyes in pleasure as the taste unfolded on your tongue. It was incredible - the perfect mix of sweet, soft and crunchy. You couldn't help but let out a contented sigh as you enjoyed another cookie.

Suddenly you heard an unfamiliar voice, that came closer to you. "Oh, there's someone enjoying my mother's famous cookies," she spoke and you quickly opened your eyes, looking up at the older girl. “Your mom makes really amazing cookies,” you remarked, nodding and reaching for another one.

The party continued to rage around you, but for a moment you were just lost in the delicious world. You savored every bite while chatting with your friends and living life to the fullest. But after a few minutes you started to feel uncomfortable. Your skin began to tingle and you felt heat flood your body.

Panic rose within you as you realized what was happening. You had an allergic reaction. Your thoughts were swirling and you tried to stay calm, but the symptoms were getting worse by the second. Your best friend immediately noticed the change in your face and became increasingly nervous as your face became red and blotchy. "Are you all right?" She asked worriedly and you tried to answer but your voice failed and you could only shake your head helplessly. Soon after, everything around you started spinning and you fell tot he ground.

When your friend realized the danger, she pulled out her cell phone and immediately called 911. "911, what is your emergency?" asked the voice on the other end of the line. "My friend has a peanut allergy and she just ate peanut butter cookies. She has an allergic reaction and it is gonna turn into a allergic shock."

Meanwhile, the other party guests reacted to the emerging panic and some of them tried to calm you down. Some of them tried to help with first aid while others stood around you worried.

Meanwhile, Andy and Victoria, who heard about the emergency call, rushed to the house to help. When they arrived, the scene was chaotic, but they immediately put their medical training to use. But when they saw who needed their help, they realized the urgency of the situation.

“Andy, it’s y/n!” Victoria said, lowering herself to the floor next to you. She made sure you were stabilized and acted quickly and effectively while Andy coordinated the situation and asked the young people to give them some space. "Y/n? Our y/n? Damn it!"

Victoria gave you a makeshift supply of adrenaline that she injected into your thigh. "Hey, sweetie. Are you with me?" Andy asked, patting your cheek a few times as she knelt down next to you. You nodded, your eyes focused on her. A smile of relief graced her lips.

Together they carefully picked you up and carried you to their ambulance, which was already waiting outside. They put you on the stretcher and immediately took you to the hospital. Along the way, Victoria kept a careful eye on you while making sure your vital signs remained stable. The ride was eerily quiet as they hoped for your speedy recovery.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were immediately taken to the emergency room, where a team of doctors and nurses were ready to help you. Andy and Victoria stayed by your side while you were examined and treated by the doctors.

At the same time, your mothers were immediately informed by the two and it didn't take long for the two to arrive in the emergency room after receiving the call. Carina stormed towards the two women with concern, her heart beating wildly with worry. Her eyes were wide open in fear as she looked into the treatment room to see you lying on the gurney, surrounded by medical staff. "What the hell happened?" She asked as she wrapped her hands around her torso and chewed her lip nervously.

Maya followed shortly after, her expression marked with worry and fear. When she saw you, she was relieved that you seemed stable so far, but also angry that you hadn't informed her where you were. "Allergic shock. Apparently she ate something she shouldn't have. The caller said it was peanut butter cookies."

"Yeah, yeah. She's allergic to peanuts," the blonde spoke and both women grabbed each other's hands as they nervously waited for the doctors to finish with you and give them an update. "But she knows that too. She pays very strict attention to avoid exactly that."

As the four of them waited in silence, the attending physician came out and explained to Maya and Carina that you were stable, but that you needed to remain under observation due to the severe allergic reaction and that they would do everything they could to make sure you recovered quickly .

Maya and Carina breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed past him with a thank you to get to you as quickly as possible while Andy and Vic stayed outside. "What happened and why didn't you tell us you went to that party?" Maya asked, her voice full of worry and anger.

You lowered your gaze to the blanket, a feeling of shame overcoming you as the two sank into the chairs next to your hospital bed. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to worry you. There were cookies there, unlabeled. It was stupid of me not to say where I was."

Carina sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder. Despite the fury of betraying their trust, they were grateful that you were now in good hands and that you had been taken to the hospital in time. "We're not mad at you, love. But you should have told us where you were going. What would have happened if y/bf/n hadn't called or Andy and Vic hadn't been there on time?"

Maya nodded, agreeing with her wife as she took your hands in hers. "You could have been in serious trouble. We understand that you wanted to have fun, but safety always comes first. We are here to look after you, but we can only do that if you let us know."

You looked at the two of them as their mothers' words resonated within you. You knew you had made a mistake and you would learn from it. "I'm really sorry, Mom. I promise next time I'll let you know right away."

Maya and Carina hugged you tightly as they discussed the importance of communication and safety with you. Despite the frightening experience, you had grown even closer to your mothers, and you were determined to make sure something like this would never happen again.

[murdocksapostasy]

Hello! If you’re still doing one shot requests, could you do one with someone approaching reader at a bar and Jessica Jones gets jealous. Jessica makes it known reader is hers, scaring the person away. Reader teases her a bit about being jealous but assures her that they are hers.

Hope you have a great day/night💜💜

hi!! yes i’m always doing requests don’t worry! tysm i love Jessica Jones

(deeply apologies for the wait, new year’s hangovers to blame.) also i made it gay, just seemed right

you can tell somethings bugging your girlfriend, you can always tell, you know jessica you also know how apposed she can be when it comes to vulnerability sometimes, maybe the drinks will loosen her up a little.

you’re sitting at the bar with her, watching as she swigs down her fourth glass of whiskey when you feel someone come up behind you.

“how about i buy you a drink?” the stranger offers, you can see jessica face in the corner of your eye, she dose not seem pleased whatsoever. “no thank you” you politely decline, its short and sweet, clearly too sweet because the strange man persists. “so how about we just go back to my place then huh darlin?”

“how about you stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, dipshit.” jessica wasn’t in a good mood to start with. now she looks pissed, and the empty glass in her hand looks like it’s begging for mercy.

the tall man stands up and scoffs towering over jessica, “*your* girlfriend, sure. she’s not yours, she’s up for grabs for any man who’s ready to show her some real dick.”

jessica looks the man up and down, not so amused.

“really because so far she doesn’t seem swayed” she comments sarcastically, then turns to you and smiles, “sweetheart do you want to leave me for this lanky guy with patchy facial hair?”

you’re thrown off guard by the question “no..?”

“great then it’s settled” jessica says with a fabricated smile, “now fuck off.” she says finally breaking the glass with her grip, the crushed shards in her hand feel like a threat.

the man walks away without another word. jessica turns around to the bar without even looking at you, casually brushing the glass from her glove.

“not the jealous type are you?” you tease, jessica smiles a little “oh shut up”

[psychangels]

Against the World

Surface

Libby surveys the Infantry atrium. Her eyes are half-lidded.

There's Anna, Kian, Anh, Digby, and the rest of the usual suspects. They're all off doing their own thing.

She sighs. Another boring year...

...And then she notices the new person. Her eyes widen.

They're standing next to Digby. Talking to him. Something almost everyone else in the room never does unless they have to.

Unlike everyone else, they're not dressed casually. Not that they're wearing a costume—but they look...spiffy. Albeit in a worn, patchy, hand-me-down sort of way.

One brow quirked, Libby makes her way over to them.

Digby looks at her as she approaches. "Oh, hi, Libby."

"Hey, Digby."

In turn, the new kid turns to her.

She almost stumbles.

Moles. Thick, wavy, dark ginger hair. Dimples; the remnants of a great, big grin. Warm, brown eyes.

If she'd of known the new recruit was this cute, she would've actually bothered to show up when she was told to.

"You must be Hayday!" they say. Their voice is oddly raspy.

Her eyes widen a little. "Uh...yeah. Hi." She pauses for a moment before remembering to actually introduce herself. "Name's Libby, though."

"Got it." They nod solemnly. "I'm Aquamarine. My name is Roscoe—but you can call me Ross."

Her eyes narrow. Aquamarine...why does that sound familiar...?

She frowns when she notices him staring.

"...Take a picture. It'll last longer." "...Oh! Heh, sorry."

He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Um...Ross?" Digby suddenly speaks up. "Yeah?" "Can you go back to telling your story?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure! But I should probably start over if Libby wants to listen."

She looks at Digby. He looks back. There's a smile on his face; his eyes are bright.

"...Sure. Not like I have anything better to do."

Clearing his throat, Ross grins.

"It all started on a bright, sunny day..."

She quirks a brow. Not what she was expecting. Still, it probably won't be that interesting.

"...and then..."

Libby leans forward. At some point, they sat down on the floor, with her and Digby next to each other and Ross in front of them.

"...he cackled! Mwahahhaha!" Ross' raspiness helps make the laugh sound actually menacing. "And said, 'You thought you could get me monologuing, did you? Well, think again!' Before he ZAPPED them!"

Digby gasps. His eyes are wider than saucers.

Her brows fly up. Libby scoots closer.

"Everyone screamed! They flailed in agony as a hundred watts surged through their bodies!"

"Did they die?" Digby asks, voice quiet.

"Almost," he replies. "Their nerves were totally frayed; hair standing on end and singed; bodies trembling, they stood up tall together..."

Her brow furrows. "Wait. Stood up? I thought they were trapped?"

"I was getting to that!" "Oh. Sorry."

"...As I was saying, they stood up tall together...which is when he realized his fatal error! Zapping them like that caused their restraints to short circuit, freeing them! With a shout of rage, they all raced towards him and beat the shit out of him!"

Her eyes widen cartoonishly. Digby's jaw drops.

And then, she bursts out laughing.

"What? What's so funny?" Ross questions, brow furrowed.

"I...wasn't...expecting...you...to...say...that!" Libby manages to respond through her laughter.

The tension in his face dissolves. With a smile, he chuckles.

"Ahh...man...you're lucky Anh left a while ago," she says once she's stopped and caught her breath. "She would've gotten on your ass about that."

"What? Why?"

"She doesn't like it when we swear. Says we're too little for it. And it's unprofessional," Digby explains.

"Wow. Really?" Libby nods. "Yep. They're all kind of like that." "They all dislike swearing?"

"No...that they think we're too little." he frowns, his gaze falling. "We don't get to go on patrol or missions much. Just stay here and talk over comms. And, um, training. Lots and lots of it."

Ross purses his lips at that, his nose scrunching up.

"Oh, and we get to go on food and drink runs," she adds, "and play messenger! Which is always so much fun." She rolls her eyes.

"So...we don't get to do any actual hero stuff?"

"Pretty much. Unless they really need the extra power, but they don't wanna send in the big guns."

"...Oh."

He looks away. Crossing his arms, his brow furrows. All the energy in his eyes from earlier is gone now.

"...Er...sorry." She averts her gaze. "But it's better we broke it to you. It's not like anybody else is gonna tell you. They'd rather keep you hoping, when really all it is is that they're waiting for your fourteenth birthday or...whatever."

"...It's...it's okay. Thanks for telling me." "Yeah. Sure."

A few moments of silence pass.

Standing up, Ross offers them both a weak smile and a hand.

"I know we just met and all, but...well, at least we're all in it together. Right?"

Her brows go up. Digby's mouth opens slightly. They glance at one another.

Matching smiles on their faces, they each take one of his hands.

"Right." "Mhm."

He grins. Pulling them to their feet, he squeezes their hands.

[ask-the-parabalis-gang]

Hiii!!! I'm the mod of @the-demonic-people and I just want to say that your blog is so cool! I just wanna know, what's the plot of the blog and the story? I haven't properly checked the entire thing yet. Anyways, hope u have a nice day ^^

THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOODNESS

I should probably write down the plot, all I’ve done was give cryptic hints at it because I’m stuck in the purgatory of wanting to infodump everything but not wanting to spoil anything.

TWs: Implied forced relationship, manipulation, death (lots of it), cults and religious imagery, mentions of parental and domestic abuse, phobias, mental and physical disorders

So buckle up, ladies, gentlemen, neithers, boths, and in-betweens, for I present:

The Plot (TM)

It’s Patchy Skelter’s 18th birthday!!! This is wonderful and amazing cuz she has an incredibly dangerous disorder that makes her unable to feel pain. She wasn’t supposed to live this long, but she did!! Yippee for her!!

Clay is her bestiewestie. They get bullied by Poly, who is a dick. However, it’s not about that right now. Patchy has a birthday. Their life is wonderful. They go to a cool little venue in a restaurant/bar and play music with their band. Patchy is there. All is well in the world.

Patchy’s two father figures are there too — Orgon and Cal. They used to be gay. But they currently are gay?? Wowzers they’re working things out probably!! Patchy ships them because we love old man yaoi (is it still considered old man yaoi if they’re in their 40s). People also ship Patchy and Pith, the singer in Clay’s band, because we also love lesbians here.

Clay third wheels both Orgon and Cal as well as Patchy and Pith. They are sad about this.

Woah why is Orgon looking at Clay and Pith in a sussy way. It’s like he knows something strange but that couldn’t be. Eh it’s probably nothing. He hasn’t exactly been the same since a traumatizing car accident that happened two years ago on December 22, 2004.

Woah this is being described in detail!! Is it a major plot point???? (yes)

The next day, Clay sees Poly beat up. Insert concern because Poly’s mum is a notorious douchebag. Poly beats Clay up for caring about him, as one does.

Clay, still worried about Poly because they’re a good person, follows him home. Poly does a bit of a shouty shouty and it’s somewhat angsty. Suddenly Clay gets stabbed. By a needle. With a sedative. Held by Orgon.

Poly, appropriately, is like ‘what in the fuck I hated them but I didn’t want this to happen???’ So they try to call Pith (who they formerly had a shitty relationship with). She doesn’t answer. They go to Patchy who accuses them of attacking Clay and Pith. For once Poly had done nothing, and he leaves sadly.

Meanwhile Clay wakes up in a basement. So does Pith!!!! This is frightening. Pith undergoes panic attack so Clay tries to comfort her. Wait why the fuck is their hand glowing. Could this be MAGIC???? It’s like they’re SIPHONING IT FROM PITH??? WHAT???? Orgon looks pleased with himself. What is he plotting oh my stars.

Meanwhile, Patchy’s stressed over this. She calls up her father figures because Pith’s not answering and she’s really worried. Cal acts relatively normal. Orgon does not. Patchy begins to suspect something but it couldn’t be!! It’s not like her father figures were bad, right????

SUDDENLY PITH PICKS UP. Thank god. She sounds really traumatized so Patchy invites her over. They bond over Patchy’s love of crafts and talk about Poly. It’s revealed that Poly has NPD and has severe issues which is why he acts the way he does. He also worsened Pith’s schizophrenia during their relationship and ended up making her not take her medication anymore.

Pith wants to stay over but hOLY SHIT THERE’S ONLY ONE BED. The two sleep in it. It’s wholesome as fuck. Until Pith gets a nightmare. During the comfort, she opens up to Patchy about the main route of her problems — The Event (TM).

The Event (TM) reveals that Pith used to be a ghost hunter who was fascinated by the paranormal. She was walking through the woods when she heard a strange crash. Then she continued forward and stumbled upon a CULT??? In the sleepy town of Parabalis???? More likely than you think :D

Guess when this Event (TM) took place!!! (Hint: it’s December 22, 2004, aka the same date Orgon had his car accident.) Patchy freaks out at the same-date thing. Shit’s going down.

Clay’s still trapped in Orgon’s basement, not doing so good. They’re contemplating the existence of magic and wonder what the fuck they have. And Pith has had to deal with it this whole time??? No wonder she’s traumatized

Suddenly they hear a conversation from upstairs!! Wait Orgon’s actually SPEAKING??? He sounds like he’s being forced to. Weird. Wait, is that other voice Cal, Patchy’s other father figure :0 They sound gay but not in a good way. A suspicious meeting that Orgon has to go to is mentioned and cults are also mentioned and Clay’s like WTF. This is news to them. Holy shit this is a lot to take in.

More not-so-good-or-consensual gayness happens and then Orgon returns and is visibly Not Well. Clay tries to talk to him about Cal and then Orgon threatens him and now Clay’s frightened!!! But so is Orgon. Huh.

Orgon leaves the weapon he threatened Clay with in a place where they can somehow get it because he’s traumatized and can’t think straight. Clay escapes and when Orgon returns they beat the ever loving shit out of Orgon cuz Orgon’s lowkey a weakling. They pin him down and suddenly there’s a light in his cold dead eyes. Wait that’s snow. What the fUCK-

So it’s revealed that the magic Clay took from Pith was the ability to see into others’ memories. Time to reveal Orgon’s trauma now with this ability!!!!

Clay sees Orgon’s terrible car wreck and watches him straight-up die in a horrific way. Trauma!! Suddenly, Orgon is no longer dead!!! He wakes up incredibly frightened in the middle of a cult, run by Cal. :0

Apparently Cal has magic too — the ability to tamper with life and death and reverse either of those things. Therefore he straight-up believes he’s Jesus Christ. Lots of religious symbolism happens. This delusional man tells Orgon that he owes him his life now, and the life of Patchy because without Orgon, Patchy would be dead.

Clay pulls back to reality and is like ‘holy shit so you’re not bad, you just wanna protect yourself and Patchy from Cal. damn you could have TOLD ME INSTEAD OF BEING CREEPY ABOUT IT’. Orgon’s shit at telling people valuable information, but now we know that Clay has the ability to yoink the powers of Cal to end his reign of terror once and for all.

Anyways Clay, Patchy, and Pith all reunite and talk about what happened. Patchy is skeptical about the existence of magic so Clay uses his spooky memory powers. She sees a really wholesome memory of herself and Orgon being daughter and father and she cries. Then they team up to save Orgon with the Power of Friendship!!!

They go to where the cult is. Cal arrives late and starts talking about ‘a Judas among us’ or something. Hehe among us. Anyways he reveals how he knows about Orgon’s little experiments with the magical children. This betrayal will lead to DEATH!!! Orgon, who had been forced to go, finally expresses fear for once. Ugh I love my sopping wet cat of a man so much SORRY ANYWAYS

The gang burst in like ‘NOOOOOO’. The other cult members flee and it’s symbolic cuz everyone abandoned Jesus too. Lots of religious imagery when Cal’s around. Anyways Cal whips out a fucking gun and threatens the gang. There’s a large kerfuffle but Cal gets the upper hand and is about to kill people when suddenly he’s like ‘wait where tf are my killing powers’. Clay has them!!! They kill Cal. Everything’s good.

WAIT NO IT’S NOT PATCHY GOT SHOT LMAO. Orgon displays even MORE emotion cuz she’s the only thing he’s living for. Patchy ends up fucking dying but now Clay has the powers of Cal, so they can bring her back. Everyone has trauma now. But they’re all alive so it’s not that bad.

Then the plot dissolves into details that make it possible for me to make several sequels. Those I don’t wanna reveal for 1. spoilers and 2. I don’t have sequel details laid out. But yeah everyone gets a happy ending!!!

Or do they :D

[torchwood-99]

From your Thematic Headcanon ask game:

hc + 😡 for a headcanon about something that makes them angry

I totally LOVE stuff to get angry about! And I’m having a chaotic day, so it feels fitting!

Oh yes here we go!!!!

Eomer

People who abuse women. His love for Eowyn and his inability to save his mother instilled him early on with a fierce hatred of people who mistreat women. A hatred that goes beyond rationality sometimes, if he sees someone treat their wife or daughter harshly he will act first, think later, barging in on the situation without considering the ramifications of his actions, and how his interference could cause harm. That said, in the aftermath, once his rage has cooled, he always tries to help in a constructive way as well. This results in several laws for the protection of wives, daughters and other female kin being passed in his day.

People making fun of his beard. Stealing this headcanon, @konartiste, because of his Numenorean blood, it took Eomer longer to grow a beard than his peers, and even after it grows in it's not so naturally lustrous as theirs. He spends hours trimming it and brushing it to give it volume, and he can't grow it too long because it comes in patchy.

People who mistreat horses. Needs no further elaboration.

Eowyn

Feeling boxed in, confined, mollycoddled, overlooked, underrated, left out, overworked, exploited or generally done shit by because of her sex. Not a headcanon just canon but it's such a pressure point (rightfully so) it has to be said.

Being sick. She hates being sick. Her relationship with her body is fraught, because on the one hand she has suffered from being relegated to certain roles because of her gender, with the onset of puberty in particular hailing a stronger enforcement of gender roles in her life, but through training and effort she has been able to give her body a great deal of strength and skill, and so any feeling of "weakness" causes her to feel like her body is betraying her. Her periods are actually quite irregular, but when they come they can be truly painful, and this she hates above all else. Working as a healer makes her more forgiving of her own weakness, and her marriage to Faramir, who never treats her as less because she is a woman, (and introduces her to a lot of fun stuff her body can do and feel) makes her more at peace with her sex, but her monthlies still cause her a fair bit of frustration, as it really does dredge up the worst feelings she has about sex and weakness. Her first period itself was pretty traumatic, without a mother or female relative to help her through it. With her mother and aunts all dead, and her entry into womanhood being marked with blood and pain, womanhood seems interconnected with suffering and death, and it takes her a long time to put that all into perspective.

Impractical shoes. She hates shoes that pinch or have high heels. She hates any female specific fashion that significantly impedes movement or comfort. If it's inflicted on men and women alike, she can stomach it (like high collars on formal occasions) but anything that singles women out for discomfort/lack of mobility is her sworn enemy.

Also, side-saddles. Absolutely detests them. Side-saddles at the end of the third age, beginning of the fourth age, are the ones that have women sit entirely facing the side, and give women riders significantly less control over their horse than front facing saddles. Lothiriel's time as queen sees the development of more practical side saddles, that allow women decent control over their horses, which Eowyn grudgingly accepts, but still holds in dislike. She actively fights against Rohan adopting them for widespread use, because the reasons for women riding side-saddle (to protect their chastity) is an attitude she rightfully sees as harmful to women. As a result of her influence, the side-saddle comes to be seen as a fashion accessory, to show off a lady's gown on formal or ceremonial occasions, and women for the most part ride astride for sport and day to day use.

Faramir

Intellectual debates. He says he's always up for an intellectual debate, he says he loves discussing ancient texts and laws and poetry, but in truth he can't stomach people having different ideas to him, whether it be philosophy, history, art etc... He tries to play it cool, and when someone says something wrong, he is happy to explain to them why they are wrong. But if they insist on being wrong, it sends him into a cold, hard fury. He maintains decorum in front of them, but then rants for hours to Eowyn about it afterwards. The thing is, he usually is right, and usually the people disagreeing with him are wrong and wilfully so, but nonetheless, it makes him a little tiresome. When he actually is wrong, and it's explained to him, he takes it on board with good grace. It's just most of the time, he's in the right, so it makes him come across as intolerant of other people's views.

People underestimating his wife. He knows that under Eowyn's proud veneer, she suffers from self-esteem issues, and he gets very angry at people dismissing her or overlooking her, because he knows it causes these issues to flame up. Also, he thinks she's absolutely amazing, and as we've established, he struggles with people having different opinions

He can camp out in absolutely filthy conditions, and put up with dirt and blood and grime as part of being a soldier, but at home and in court life, he likes things neat an orderly. He's actually a bit precious about his fine clothes, and if there's a smudge or a stain, it bothers him like an itch until it's sorted out. Eowyn sometimes teases him by wearing her coronet at an angle, and watching him resist the urge to straighten it for her. (She likes it when he does, because he's very gentle when he does it, and takes the opportunity to run his fingers through her hair.)

[wildemaven]

My sweet Heidi! Congrats again on your 1K bby!! You deserve it and even more!! I was wondering if I could put in a blind drabble request with my love Frankie and numbers 22 and 301. I’m so proud of everything you’re doing and am so glad to call you one of my best buds. 💜💜💜

Meet Cute in the Garden Section

Wildemaven 1k Celebration / 1k Masterlist Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Blog; No warnings, just fluff!

Prompts: "This doesn't smell like roses." / "It was nice meeting you."

You don’t mean to stare. Actually you do, because it’s the cutest thing you’ve seen in a while. 

Between reading the tiny plant labels and filling your cart with an array of plants you had been looking forward to purchasing for your growing garden, you can’t help but notice a Dad and his daughter an aisle over doing some planting shopping of their own. 

He seems a little lost, removing his tattered ball cap every once in a while to comb through his chestnut locks, as he examines each plant his daughter holds up to him. His furrowed brow gives you the impression he doesn’t shop for plants often. 

As you continue your browsing, you find yourself in the same section as the cute shopping duo. In closer proximity you decide the Dad is quite cute with how his eyes crinkle when he smiles at something his daughter is saying and you think you see a hint of a dimple through his patchy beard. 

“This one is cute too Papa! Look at it.” The sweet little girl, who looks to be around 5 or 6 years old, says to her Dad holding up the tiny potted plant. “Can we get this one too?”

He takes the plant from her tiny hands, squinting as if he either forgot his glasses at home or thinks he doesn’t need them and continues struggling through reading small print. 

“I don’t know baby, I can’t really tell what the little symbol is, if this one is saying full sun or partial— maybe no sun?? This one might be a little more difficult to take care of.” He tells her as he goes to place it back in its designated spot. 

“Actually, those are pretty easy to take care of— perfect starter plants too.” You say, giving him a reassuring smile so as to not come off as some creepy stranger in the garden department. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you, just thought you should know.”

“Thanks— thank you. As you might have guessed, I know nothing about plants, or gardening for that matter.” He says, laughing at confessing his lack of knowledge about plants to a complete stranger. There’s definitely a dimple, way more prominent when he laughs. 

“That’s okay, we all start somewhere. So far, all of your choices are great ones, you shouldn’t have too much trouble getting things going.” You tell him as you glance over their selections. 

“So there’s hope for us then?”

“Definitely!”

“Papa! This doesn't smell like roses!” The sweet little girl, who looks like a copy and paste version of her father, declares while shoving another plant into their nearly filled cart. 

“That’s because it’s a succulent, no real scent to them.” You say, and guessing by her confused expression, she doesn’t know what one is. “It’s like a cactus, but none of those pokey needles on them. They’re fun to take care of because they don’t need a lot of water to grow and love the sun, very low maintenance.”

“That’s just what our garden needs, low maintenance.”

He doesn’t have a ring, but you're aware not everyone wears one these days, so you use your sleuth skills to ask about his marital status so you don’t over step any sort of boundaries. 

“Well, I’m sure your wife will be happy with everything you two have picked out.”

“Oh, we’re not married— I have her on the weekends and she’s been begging to plant a garden since she has one at her mom’s place. And I have no clue what I’m doing so I’m just guessing as we go.” 

Cute, and single. 

“I’m Frankie and this is Isabella.”

You give him your name and you continue to talk him through his gardening hesitations, really soaking up everything little detail you’re sharing with him— wishing he had something to take notes knowing he’ll probably forget most of it by the time they get home. 

“It was nice meeting you. I hope you both have fun and I wish you the best of luck in your gardening ventures.” Realizing you had definitely overstayed your welcome, but wishing you could chat more with Frankie— and not just about plants and their needs. 

You give them both a friendly wave goodbye, turning back to your cart to make your way to pay for your own plants, looking forward to an afternoon of planting and deciding what to make for dinner. 

You had finished loading your car with your collection of flowers and a few bags of potting soil, when you hear your name being called, and turn to see Frankie and Isabella walking in your direction. 

“Hey! More gardening questions?” 

“Yeah, I mean— not really. I was wondering, umm if I could maybe get your number. In case I were to have any questions about garden stuff, I could text you or call if you prefer— or I could turn back around and head to my car and we can pretend this lame attempt at me asking to see you again didn’t happen.” He sounds nervous, his one hand firmly tucked into the pocket of his jeans and the other securely around Isabella’s tiny hand— his irresistible smile and charming personality has really won you over. 

“I’d love to give you my number— for gardening and stuff.” 

[clangenrising]

Month 9 - Leaffall

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“What are we looking for again?” asked Aldertail. 

Oddstripe smiled over his shoulder, happy to answer the question one more time, and said, “Wild Garlic. It’s got big, flat, green leaves and sparse white flowers. You should be able to smell it by the time we get close, it's fairly pungent.”

“Right,” Aldertail nodded several times. Oddstripe glanced down at her raw forelegs with the distinct feeling that if they hadn’t been walking, she would have paused to groom them again. It was strange, he thought, that she would continue to lick her skin even after it had gone red and raw. The fur was patchy and sparse, like she’d torn it all out, and he couldn’t understand what could compel her to do such a thing. Sagetooth had told him that it wasn’t unheard of, that some cats who were particularly nervous or depressed had been known to tear their own skin apart or rip out chunks of their fur. She said that there wasn’t a direct cure, that treatment consisted of tending the wounds and talking with someone to resolve the underlying cause. 

Aldertail was looking at him again. The moment she realized he had seen her, she averted her gaze guiltily, and he flushed with embarrassment. In the time she’d been in camp, she spent a lot of time watching, but it felt to him like she watched him the most. He had the feeling it had to do with his being a tom and he had to wonder if he would have stared if there had been someone else like him in the Clan when he’d arrived. He wondered if she was staring out of recognition, if she saw herself in him even if she didn’t know it, or if she was staring because he was a strange oddity to her. Oddity, ha. He’d almost forgotten that most cats before RisingClan had found him odd. 

But with Aldertail, he could tell he was odd in a way he hadn’t been before. Once, he had overheard her call him a ‘pretender’ while talking to Branchbark. A pretender. Was he just pretending? No, he thought, the joy he had felt every time his kits called him Papa wasn’t pretending. StarClan had even blessed him with a deeper voice and every time he heard it coming out of his mouth it made him smile. So why had Aldertail called him that? He wasn’t sure.

“Do you smell that?” Aldertail asked suddenly as she stopped in her tracks. Oddstripe blinked and opened his mouth to scent for the garlic. Had they really walked to the patch already? It wasn’t garlic that hit his tongue though, it was a cat smell, and a familiar one.

“Oh!” he smiled, looking around. “That’s Stormwhisper! What is he doing here?”

“Stormwhisper?” Aldertail repeated in confusion. 

The scent was close and Oddstripe bounded to the top of the hill to see if he could spot him. A few fox lengths a way, through the grass, he spotted the grey-furred tom and his grin widened. 

“Stormwhisper! Hey!” he called, waving his tail. Aldertail crept up behind him, tail twitching nervously. Stormwhisper twisted around, ears pressed back instinctively, before he spotted Oddstripe.

“Oh, hey, Oddstripe,” he called back, sounding like a kitten caught in the honey stores. 

“What are you doing out here?” asked Oddstripe, tilting his head as he closed the distance to the other Healer. Sagetooth had told him that Healers were permitted to cross the borders with good reason, to ask for help or bring news to other Clans, but Stormwhisper hadn’t been heading towards the camp at all and as far as Oddstripe was aware, Healers weren’t supposed to just go off and harvest other Clans’ herbs on their own. 

Stormwhisper shifted awkwardly and softly said, “I’m, uh… going on a journey. Out of the territories.”

“Really?” Oddstripe gasped. “What for?” 

“I’m… following a dream I had,” he admitted. Oddstripe couldn’t help but feel like he was still holding back, though.

“A dream,” he breathed in awe, “like from StarClan?” 

“Yeah,” Stormwhisper nodded. “I think. It wasn’t very specific but… I have to check it out.” 

“Oh, okay,” Oddstripe nodded. He had a feeling that Stormwhisper was done elaborating. Oh well, his curiosity would just have to wait.  “Well, safe travels. May StarClan light your path.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I shouldn’t be gone for too long, a month at most. Hopefully Sagetooth won’t make too much of a fuss when I miss the gathering.” 

Oddstripe winced sympathetically, “Yeah, let’s hope.” Stormwhisper nodded and turned to continue walking through the territory, heading East, towards the forests where Oddstripe had once lived. He wondered what StarClan needed Stormwhisper to do - if Sagetooth would know or if asking her would just cause trouble. Beside him, Aldertail shifted from her crouch to peer after Stormwhisper and Oddstripe realized with a pang of guilt that the two of them had entirely ignored her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t even introduce you!”

“That’s alright,” Aldertail ducked her head in apology, “I didn’t expect you to.”

“Well, I should have,” Oddstripe said with a smile. 

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

Oddstripe winced, not exactly sure what he could have done better but wishing that he had. “Well, either way, let’s keep looking for that garlic.” 

“Of course!” Aldertail nodded hurriedly, licking her forelegs twice. “I should have been looking this whole time!” 

“Oh, no, no, you’re alright,” he assured her with an uneasy laugh. “We’re not in any rush, you don’t have to worry. Besides, I’d love to get to know you better.” 

“Me?” she asked, looking around as if there were someone else he might have been speaking to. 

“Oh, yes,” Oddstripe purred as he started walking again. “I’d love to hear about you!”

“W-what about me?” Aldertail asked, slinking along behind. 

“Anything,” shrugged Oddstripe, “your favorite food, what you do for fun, a favorite memory… anything!” 

“Oh, uh…” Aldertail chewed her lip in thought. “I- I don’t know, sorry. I’m not very interesting.”

“I doubt that’s true,” Oddstripe smiled. Then, opening his mouth to scent the air, he said, “Oh, there it is! Look, you can smell the garlic up ahead!” Aldertail opened her mouth too, took a deep breath, and then grimaced at the smell. 

“Eugh, that’s garlic?” 

Oddstripe laughed. “Yeah. Not a great smell, is it? Come on, the patch is just up ahead.” He led the way through the tall grass, bouncing brightly with each step. His enthusiasm faded, however, when he came into the patch to find the grass had been torn up and eaten.

“Oh, no!” he cried, searching around for any sign of an intact bulb. “Curse those ground squirrels!” 

“It’s all gone?” Aldertail asked. She pawed at some of the flowers that had been scattered about, frowning. 

“Looks like it,” sighed Oddstripe. “Damn it!”

“What do you need this garlic for, anyway?” asked Aldertail. Oddstripe sighed again. He knew that most of the warriors didn’t care about herbs in the slightest but he wished they would. It was so tiring to have to defend his interests, even if the other cat wasn’t actually trying to disparage them. 

“It’s good for infections,” he said, “we chew it up and put it on wounds.”

“And that… stops infections?” she frowned. 

“Yeah, it does. That and a few other herbs, like horsetail.”

“That’s amazing,” said Aldertail, and Oddstripe blinked in surprise. 

“You think so?”

“Of course!” Aldertail nodded, smiling for perhaps the first time he had ever seen. “Your spells can save lives!”

“They’re not spells,” Oddstripe laughed. “It’s called medicine. The herbs already have the natural properties to cure diseases and ease pain, we just learn them and apply them as needed.”

“That's amazing,” Aldertail said again. “I thought only humans had that kind of power.”

“Oh, they do?” asked Oddstripe and Aldertail nodded. “I had no idea! I’ve never met a human.” 

“I have,” Aldertail nodded. “I mostly avoid them now that I’ve been notched, but sometimes they leave out food for us.”

“Huh,” Oddstripe said to himself. “Do they ever give you herbs or anything?”

“No,” Aldertail shook her head. “Not me at least. They only grace their chosen companions with such mercies. I’m just chaff.”

“Chaff?” Oddstripe tilted his head. 

“Mhm,” she nodded, looking down at her paws. “Chaff is like… the bits of grain that have no use. We’re the cats the humans didn’t want around. They judged us and found us unworthy, that’s why we have our ears notched.” She gestured to her cut ear in shame and then gave the leg a few rough strokes with her tongue, wincing at the tug. 

“Oh, honey, don’t hurt yourself,” Oddstripe frowned. 

“Huh?” Aldertail looked up, confused. 

“Your legs! They must be so raw. Why do you keep licking at them like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aldertail said with a shrug. “It makes my brain quieter.” 

“Huh. Well, let me see if I can make your legs feel better.” He gave the patch one more disappointed glance and then started back towards camp. “I’ve got some herbs that should be able to soothe the skin a little.”

“A-alright,” nodded Aldertail, falling obediently into step behind him. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

He hitched his step to fall back into pace beside her. “No trouble at all. I love mixing poultices.” He saw confusion on her face and added, “That’s an herb mixture.”

“Oh. Okay,” she smiled slightly although her ears pressed back with nerves. 

“It’ll be great,” he grinned, bumping gently against her. “Maybe I can show you the herbs I’ll use to do it! That way you can help me gather them in the future.”

“Okay,” blushed Aldertail shyly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he purred. “I’m glad to help.”