#she's not unhappy per say? but things could be better

[laugtherhyena]

Beni stuff

[bethanydelleman]

Hello!

I rewatched Pride and Prejudice and it's surprising how my thoughts on it changed over the years 😃

When I was a teenager, Elizabeth Bennet was the plucky heroine that I wanted to be (lol) , now I'm older with a mortgage and responsibilities/bills, I'm like what was her plan in life?

Because she wasn't really educated per se (im thinking about how she answered lady Catherine about what she has to recommend her re:drawing, playing the piano etc) so I guess a 'career'(no matter how little it would be available at that time) was out of the question, but accepting marraige to the (admittedly obsequious) Mr Collins was also out of the question as well as Mr Darcys first proposal (which I get why sge turned it down!) ...I guess I'm asking what Elizabeth's plan for her future.

I've heard this from a lot of people upon re-read, "Why isn't Elizabeth more worried about her future?" I think there are a few things to note.

Early 1800s or not, Elizabeth is 20 years old when the novel begins (the average age of first marriage for women was 23). 27 year old Charlotte is in more of a future panic, but Elizabeth is still young. She has done practical thing like learn to play piano, but like most young people, she's probably just hoping for the best. And it's not like there is much she can actually do, Elizabeth is putting herself out there, she's dancing, she's playing piano, but otherwise she can just hurry up and wait. Her mother's marriage schemes are seen as vulgar and mostly backfire, and we would hardly want Elizabeth to act like Caroline. We read across Austen's novel's that women are largely stationary and it is the men who move in and out of their lives.

Also, I think a big part of Austen's point is that women are in a position where they feel the need to accept any and every proposal, because as Mr. Collins says, they may never receive another, but that this leads to misery (just look at the older couples and how many of them are unhappy!). While somewhat foolish from a financial perspective, Elizabeth is thinking about her long term happiness. She has watched her father turn bitter in an unequal relationship, she does not want that for herself. Elizabeth is choosing possible spinsterhood over being married to a person she knows she could not respect. Marrying for love, or at least on a basis of respect, is a big theme in Austen's novels. Let me add this quote from Mansfield Park to illustrate this point:

“I should have thought,” said Fanny, after a pause of recollection and exertion, “that every woman must have felt the possibility of a man’s not being approved, not being loved by some one of her sex at least, let him be ever so generally agreeable. Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.... And, and—we think very differently of the nature of women, if they can imagine a woman so very soon capable of returning an affection as this seems to imply.”

So yes, Elizabeth Bennet isn't being financially prudent but she is being sensible in preserving her happiness. And for realism, we know Austen made this decision herself! She turned down an eligible offer.

Next, Mrs. Bennet is somewhat exaggerating: they are very unlikely to starve or be destitute. While it is never explicitly stated, Mr. Gardiner seems to be doing very well, and would probably very happily take at least Jane and Elizabeth if Mr. Bennet died. Mr. Philips is also doing well for a country attorney, he could take in his sister-in-law and nieces. It is going to suck, the Bennets should have planned better, but it's not the end of the world. We also do not know Mr. Bennet's age, but he may well only be in his late forties. He's no Mr. Woodhouse who may die tomorrow in a stiff breeze.

So what is Elizabeth's plan? She doesn't have one, she's 20. She's hoping life will throw her a man with a decent income that she doesn't hate. It works out in the end, but I don't think she would live to regret either turned down proposal if she had never met Darcy again.

[luveline]

hi!! i was wondering if you would write more ab spencer, r, and baby amanda from your single dad au? :o they’re so precious <3

Thank you for your request! ♥︎ fem!reader 1.6k

"How come you aren't hungover?" Spencer asks. 

You can barely hear him over the cacophony of the crowd. You're waiting for Hotch to finish his decathlon, the girls in their sunglasses, Jack and Morgan holding a homemade sign aloft. 

Amanda's sitting on the barrier with her weight against Spencer's chest, her soft brown hair splayed out against his collar like a wave. 

"I know the meaning of moderation," you say with a sweet smile. 

You might be imagining the pinking of his cheeks. "Not moderate enough, clearly," he jokes. 

JJ hadn't picked Henry up until three in the morning. Which is fine, Spencer will take Henry whenever he needs to, as per his self-ordained godfathering duties, but when JJ hadn't appeared at 11 like she'd promised, Spencer had obviously been worried. 

"Things got a little… out of control." You dip your face to his ear. "I've never seen Emily dance like that. It was crazy." 

"I wish I could've been there, but we had a date with Edward Tulane, didn't we, Amy?" 

Amanda tips her head back at her father's affectionate tone. "Daddy, I can't feel my butt." 

"Not your butt!" he says, taking her seriously but chuckling at the same time as he pulls her up and off of the barrier. With some careful manoeuvring, he's tucked Amanda into his chest, one hand held protectively over the bottom of her back. The other hooks behind her knees. 

"Is that better?" 

He speaks to her with the same fatherly fondness as always and every time you find yourself melty like butter in the summer sun. In Spencer's eyes, Amanda is the smartest, most interesting girl alive. You're tempted to agree. 

"I was worried it might be depressing for her," he says, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's sad for a children's story, you know? But she's really interested, and it's important for kids to hear sad stories. Children who read stories with unhappy plotlines are more empathetic, and have a stronger sense of justice." He smiles at her. "Plus, I think it's her favourite so far. She asked if we could read it again, all in one go. It's gonna take hours." 

"That doesn't surprise me. I mean, she's yours. I thought you'd be reading her Tolstoy by now." 

"I'm saving Tolstoy for first grade." 

He's serious. 

Hotch runs through the finish line and the members of the BAU that are assembled cheer loudly. He doesn't seem embarrassed at all, only proud, ducking down to give Jack a sweaty hug. Then he, Jack, and his new girlfriend move away from the group. The remaining members of your team start to break away, too.

The girls all want to go home and die in their own beds. Rossi and Morgan have separate dates. You're thinking you'll go home and shoot the breeze until a more reasonable bedtime when Spencer turns to you with his usual genial smile.

"Do you want to come over? We're gonna make pasta and watch Fraggle Rock." 

Spencer's changed a lot since he became Amanda's primary caregiver, but some things stay the same. He loves doing things with other people and he'll always extend an invite if he thinks the other party might enjoy themselves. Going over for dinner feels a lot more intimate than his having an extra ticket for a foreign film festival, or late night takeout, though. 

"I don't want to impose," you say awkwardly. 

"Do you think you're an imposition?" Spencer asks in concern. 

"No, just, you know, I don't…" 

"Amy doesn't mind. Do you, sweetheart?" 

"What?" says Amanda's little voice. 

"Can Y/N come for dinner?" he asks. 

Amanda smiles, pearly white teeth and cheeks chubby with baby fat. "Yes! We're gonna make pasta and watch Fraggle Rock!" 

You laugh in delight. 

"We decided in the car," Spencer explains. 

"Here I thought you were telepathic." You direct your smile at Amanda's doe eyes. "I'd love to come for dinner. Thanks, baby." 

Spencer has the cleanest car any parent has ever had. You know he spent days choosing the safest one he could find in his budget, and even more days on a car seat. His apartment is just as clean but way more crowded, stuffed to bursting with Amanda's toys and his books. 

"I'm gonna change, do you mind?" he asks, leading you down the hall into the kitchen. Amanda had tipped half a juice box down his front, and the stickiness is clearly making him uncomfortable.

"No, by all means."

He smiles. "Stay here," he says with a feigned sternness, pointing one of his pretty fingers at Amanda. His daughter only giggles. 

You follow Spencer with your eyes as he leaves. 

"Will you take off my shoes, please?"

You look down. Amanda stares up at you, her round eyes pleading, one foot held a half inch off of the ground. 

You leap to action, and say, "Oh! Yeah, baby, no problem," as you get down on your knees. 

They're simple buckles and take all of ten seconds. Amanda holds onto your arm and lifts her feet one at a time so you can pull them off. Her small toes wiggle in her socks when she puts them back on the floor.

"Feel better?" you ask knowingly. 

"Daddy says shoes are a con-d-struct," she tells you. 

"They are!" you say, though whether you really agree might take some thought. "They're silly, huh?" 

"Yeah. If we walked with no shoes, we would have tough skin like trees!" 

"Like trees," you repeat. You love listening to little kids speak because they're so full of joy to share what they know, and Spencer Reid's kid? She is a walking book of facts. "That's so cool, did daddy tell you that?" 

"Daddy tells me everything." 

Spencer appears in a graphic t-shirt. You've only seen him dressed down through barely open hotel room doors or in photographs with Amanda. It takes a second for your brain to recognise what you're seeing. 

He's a genius, so he understands what you're doing immediately. 

"Oh no," he coos, bending down to take Amanda's shoulders into his hands. "I'm so sorry," —he kisses the top of her head— "I forgot all about your shoes. How will you ever get tree bark feet?" 

It's sweet to see how she responds to his affection. Her eyes squint closed and she smiles softly, giggling when he scratches her shoulders through her dress. 

"Thanks for releasing her, she can't stand wearing shoes when she doesn't have to," he says to you, nudging her out of the way to offer you his hand. 

You take it, letting him pull you up. He doesn't let go of you straight away, instead brushing his thumb over your fingernails, one after another. 

"I've been meaning to ask you to dinner for a while. I– I've never been any good at this part, I thought it would be harder, because Amanda's the only girl in the world I understand no matter how many books I read, and that's not going to last forever, but I…" Spencer's voice steadily quietens, until the tone he's using is dulcet, and his brows have pulled together. He's just as pretty frowning as smiling. "It feels easy, with you," he finishes. 

"Are we having macaroni?" Amanda asks. 

Spencer looks torn. "I was thinking rigatoni," he says. 

"Gross, dad." 

"Farfalle?"

"Bowties?" she questions suspiciously. 

"Is that better than rigatoni?" he asks. 

Amanda dwells on this, leaning her weight into your leg. It's an unthinking gesture that fills you with light. 

"We can't have macaroni?" 

You know from Spencer's bemused sigh alone that she's about to get her way. 

"Do you mind?" he asks you. 

Amanda pins you with a pout, raising her hands into a praying triangle. Her puppy dog eyes are killer and unnecessary. 

"Whatever you want, babe," you say hurriedly. 

She bursts off to her toys with an excited cheer. You're sorry to see her go, petrified of embracing yourself, and still majorly caught off guard by what Spencer said. He's wanted to ask you over for dinner for a long time, does that mean he likes you? And the way he'd held your hand — that's not an ambiguous affection. 

You like Spencer. All the small things that make him him, and the huge things too. His daughter, his books, his genius mind and his clumsy heart. If he likes you too, you might just combust. 

Spencer nips into the living room to put Fraggle Rock on TV. Amanda's sweet voice chases his heels, her singing a mixture of melodic gibberish and passionate recitation. 

You linger as he starts to gather what he needs for dinner. He's either not worried about what you think of his confession or trying to hide that he is, knee deep in a recount of the invention of boxed mac and cheese when you touch his elbow. 

"I know what you mean, about what you said before, I feel the same. It feels easy with you." 

You don't know what it is. But Spencer knows everything, so you aren't worried. 

He beams. His smile warps each word he says as he turns back to the saucepan he's filling with pasta. "Maybe we should get dinner without Fraggle Rock, sometime." 

"I don't know, I don't think it gets any better than this." You nod your head toward the living room, Amanda's singing an adorable echo. 

His smile grows impossibly bigger. 

"Me neither," he says. 

[mothhball]

Prologue

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary Your mentor is unhappy with your career choices. But her worries only serve to make you more curious.

warnings none! this is just a little prologue

notes a little intro to kick things off. I'll shortly post the first chapter as well haha Also, Potomac is just a name I borrowed from the DC universe. I know it's different in the comics, so don't shoot me please <3

! MINORS DNI !

story masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 1.1k

“Look… I just don’t get why you wouldn’t want to go back to Potomac. From what I’ve read in your sophomore internship review, Dr. Rabin was genuinely impressed with you and said he’d be excited to have you back for the Senior internship. What happened? I – I would’ve understood anything, really. But Arkham? You really applied there?”

Professor Campbell’s office is a time capsule. A familiar, cozy environment that you’ve been inhabiting for a whole hour per week since the start of the last semester. Decorated with undemanding potted plants and cheesy motivational posters on the walls around you. The smell of paper and hibiscus hangs in the dry air, warmed up to an almost uncomfortable temperature by the ever-running radiator mounted to the wall. Usually, your presence in this room is accompanied by a sense of inner peace. One hour per week during which you’re allowed to fantasize about a glowing future as you sit in front of your academic mentor. But today, the tiny woman with the prominent smile lines is looking at you with thinly-veiled indignation. It’s an ugly expression on her, you decide. People like Campbell are better off smiling and laughing, like the human embodiment of a Golden Retriever.

You shift in your seat, resisting the urge to gesture with your hands to avoid seeming defensive. No, you keep your posture open and inviting on purpose. The body language of a genuine person.

“Potomac Psychiatric Hospital is just not what I want,” you start, speaking gently in an effort to make her emphasize with you. “I need a challenge. I don’t want to hang around rich people with mild cases of burnout all the time.”

Professor Campbell’s face scrunches up with mild displeasure, and you feel the need to quickly correct yourself.

“No offense, of course. But my main interest does lie in… the tough cases. And there are tough cases at Potomac. Jeremiah Arkham himself called his asylum the ‘Ivy League of insanity’. And Dr. Crane used to be a professor here. You knew him, right?”

Campbell flinches, and you could swear you were able to see an expression of genuine fear in her eyes for a fraction of a second. And for that fraction of a second, you were speaking to a prey animal instead of your favorite psychology professor.

“Well… Professor Crane – Doctor Crane was a… well-known member of the faculty. By which I mean everyone knew of him and the kind of seminars he held. Nobody really knew anything about the man aside from his special interest in fear-based disorders and most likely crippling caffeine addiction. Back when I knew him, he was… eccentric to say the least. But he knew what he was teaching about. Students fled his lecture hall as soon as he was done speaking, but he really was a brilliant mind. He was a professor for a reason, after all.”

You nod along to her words, unable to stop that little spark of personal curiosity from growing and festering within you. If everything goes well, you’d be able to witness firsthand how peculiar this man is for the entire summer. Much to her dismay, Campbell’s tales only serve to encourage your decision.

“So, if the two of you knew each other, there’s already a networking opportunity here,” you conclude, folding your hands in your lap.

“Yes but –“

“Also, Arkham is right here in Gotham. I don’t have to rent a new apartment anywhere else, I already know the city, and so on and so forth.” You feel a little bad for cutting her off, but it’s almost ridiculous how much she’s trying to dissuade you from your plans. Campbell doesn’t bother to hide her displeasure anymore, letting out a sigh as she taps a manicured nail against the porcelain of her teacup.

“Listen,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “we’ve had many students apply to Arkham Asylum for an internship over the years. And those whose spirits didn’t get crushed during the interview were worn down by the work itself. Besides, the influx of applications is monumental. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even get invited to the interview. In my humble opinion, you should write Potomac an email and – “

“I already got invited.” Campbell’s eyes widen, and the silence prompts you to continue. It’s a little difficult to not seem smug as you speak, but you manage. “The interview is this Friday.”

“Friday…” Campbell reaches out for her cup of tea, trying to wash away the bitter taste on her tongue with a mouthful of hibiscus and apple. In that moment, you feel a little bad for the professor. She’s always tried to make time for you and dutifully offered help wherever she could. And in return, you’re acting childish, trying to incite a one-sided contest over an internship. You let out a sigh along with her, shifting in your seat; softening up.

“This is… something that’s really important to me,” you offer, trying to apologize without saying it. “Potomac was a huge help for getting into the swing of things. I… learned a lot about the basics. And for anyone else, that hospital is the perfect match. But I don’t want to graduate, secretly doubting whether I’ll ever be ready for the real work. I know Arkham is a baptism by fire. But it’s what I need.”

Campbell hums in response, stirring a third sugar cube into her tea. It’s just a habit to keep her hands busy at this point. You’re pretty sure the crystals don’t even dissolve anymore.

“Besides,” you continue, smiling at her because you know this will give her at least a shred of hope, “even though I got through to the interview, I might not even get an internship spot. So… this entire conversation might be redundant anyway.”

This gets you the response you were hoping for, and the professor nods thoughtfully as the smile you’re used to returns to her face. She sounds relieved when she answers you.

“If that should happen, I’m sure you could still send an application to Dr. Rabin and he’ll have you on his team in no time at all. Oh, why am I even worrying? You’ll figure it out.”

You nod, feeling in real time how your smile relaxes into something more genuine. Suddenly, the warmth in the room doesn’t feel oppressive anymore. As the mood switches to something more cheerful, the two of you talk some more about your final thesis before you decide to end the conversation on a good note. Campbell rises from her seat along with you, and you mirror her smile, relieved to finally be done with this interrogation. Your mentor heads to the door after you, gently patting your shoulder.

“Let me walk with you. At least until the staff lounge. I need a fresh cup of tea.”

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[cuubism]

Zero [complex math verse]

cw for disordered eating eating disorder storylines can be very triggering so please mind this content warning as it applies heavily to the entire fic

---

Hob is almost to his data structures section—running a bit late, as per usual—when he gets a call from Death. He picks up as he’s rushing up the stairs to the Comp Sci building.

“Hey, Hob,” she says before Hob can even tell her that he only has like thirty seconds to talk, actually. She sounds fatigued. “Can you go pick up Dream from the Maths building?”

Hob pins the phone between his shoulder and ear as he tugs open the door. “‘Pick him up’? Is he okay?”

“He asked me to come get him, but I can’t leave this patient right now.” Hob can imagine her leaning against the wall, hand pressed to her forehead. Why didn’t Dream call him?, Hob wonders. He’s usually much more available than Death, at this hour. “I asked if he wanted an ambulance, and he said no, but if you can’t go get him then—”

“Wait, wait.” Hob stops in the middle of the hall, stomach swooping. Someone walking behind him swears as they have to swerve to avoid hitting him, but he ignores it. “An ambulance? I thought you said he was okay.”

But... she hadn’t said that exactly, had she?

“He will be,” Death says, which doesn’t fill Hob with much confidence. But he turns around and heads back for the door, heartbeat picking up with each step.

“I’m going now, I’m not far.” The undergrads are just going to have to cope with not having discussion section today. He doubts they’ll be too unhappy about it.

“Thanks,” says Death, with relief. “Text me when you find him? And you should bring some food, if you have it.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Hob had been afraid something like this would happen. But he can’t exactly force Dream to pick up better habits. Horses and water, and all that.

“Yeah, yeah, I will, thanks,” he says, and walks faster.

Hob is going to be upset with him.

The thought circles Dream’s mind as he sits crumpled on the bench outside the classroom he’d been working in, head on his knees, hands clasped behind his neck. Nothing feels real. Everything is spinning and swaying. He might pass out. He might throw up. He hates throwing up. Hob is going to be upset with him.

It’s exactly what he was trying to avoid by calling his sister instead. Death will be upset with him, too, but she’s chastised him before. Dream is used to it. The same words coming from Hob will be a different matter.

He should have known that she would be busy, and would call Hob. Even if she could come to get him she would likely call Hob after. He should have known. He sits with his head pressed to his knees and waits for the inevitable.

Either Hob was very close by, or more time slips past Dream’s notice than he realizes, but it feels like only a few minutes before he hears Hob’s footsteps coming quickly down the hall. He doesn’t know what it means that he can recognize Hob’s footsteps. Or that Hob had known which classroom to go to. The one Dream always prefers to work in.

“Dream?” Hob crouches in front of him, trying to meet his eyes, but Dream can’t lift his head from his knees. It’s the only thing keeping the world from tipping over on him. Hob lays a hand on his arm. “Hey, love. What’s going on?”

“‘m dizzy,” Dream murmurs, voice small. He hadn’t realized how much his shoulders were shaking until Hob touched him. He thinks that’s distress more than physical shakiness. But Hob’s presence soothes him more than he’d expected. Even if Hob chews him out, he doesn’t want Hob to leave. He wants Hob to hold him. He just wants Hob to hold him.

“Okay.” Hob’s voice is quiet and calm. He brushes Dream’s hair behind his ear, though it’s not long enough for that to do much. “Sit up for me for a sec? I’ll help you.”

Dream is helpless but to follow Hob’s voice. He starts to sit up. His vision is still spinning. Hob wraps an arm around his middle and bodily lifts him up until he’s leaning back against the wall, then sits beside him on the bench, their thighs touching.

He meets Hob’s gaze. Hob is close enough that he doesn’t appear to waver as much as everything in the background. He looks beautiful, he’s a savior, an angel.

Dream’s brain is not working very normally right now. Not that it ever is.

Hob looks more concerned than angry with him. But Dream doesn’t have much time to study his expression before he’s turning to dig in his bag and pull out his water bottle. He uncaps it and hands it to Dream.

“Drink that. At least half of it. Slow.”

He goes back to digging in his bag as Dream sips the water carefully. Hob is very steady, underneath the concern. No panic. Good in a crisis, Hob. That’s interesting.

Hob watches him drink the water, then hands him a package of cheese crackers he’d pulled out of his bag. Despite himself, Dream laughs, weakly, as he takes it. “Do you always have food with you?”

“You’re not the only one who forgets to eat lunch, I just accommodate for it.”

‘Forgetting’ is… not exactly it, Dream thinks as he picks open the package and takes a cracker, eating it slowly. He still feels more nauseous than hungry, but he knows Hob won’t let it be until he eats it.

No, he has witnessed Hob skip a meal when in the throes of some engaging problem, but he always makes up for it later. Or by carrying around snacks, apparently. Whereas with Dream… it is not exactly forgetting.

He eats the crackers one by one, mechanically. Barely tasting them. Fortunately, the food cuts the edge of nausea in his stomach instead of exacerbating it, and he no longer thinks he’s in imminent danger of throwing up. Or passing out. That would certainly upset Hob.

“There you go, love,” Hob soothes him. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Hob could have gone into the medical field instead if he wanted to, Dream thinks, somewhat deliriously, swallowing his final cheese cracker. His bedside manner is very good.

Or perhaps this is just because it’s Dream.

The thought makes him want to cry, but he doesn’t. He just stays still as the world starts spinning a little less, and Hob takes the water bottle and empty snack package back and shoves them in his bag, then tugs on Dream’s arm.

“Alright, why don’t you lie down.”

“This is a public hallway,” Dream complains, albeit weakly.

Hob sighs in exasperation. “We’ve slept on classroom tables before. Besides, this is a university, everybody’s seen weirder shit in public than this. Lie down.”

Dream acquiesces, and Hob guides him to lie down on the bench, his head on Hob’s lap. It’s pleasant, like that, and the world spins less and less. Hob pets his hair, and Dream closes his eyes.

“Are you going to make me go to A&E?” he murmurs, after a few moments of quiet.

“Depends how you feel in twenty minutes or so.” He sighs, and there’s a shake to it. “But I think you’ll be okay, love. Just give it a moment.”

Dream will be okay, until Hob decides he’s recovered enough to chastise him for his behavior. For now, he just lies there quietly and enjoys the settling feeling of Hob’s hands in his hair.

Hob doesn’t ask him what he did to himself, or why. Perhaps he’s judged Dream too tired or incapacitated to talk about it right now. He just keeps steadying Dream, quietly, his hands ever-moving.

When several minutes have passed, Hob asks, “How are you feeling, darling? Do you want to go home?”

Darling. Hob calls him such sweet things when Dream is nothing but difficult to him. “I would like to go home. Please.”

Hob helps him sit up, bracing an arm around his shoulders. But the room, thankfully, has stopped spinning. He gets Dream to his feet, and Dream doesn’t sway. Hob picks up both his bag and Dream’s from the floor and slips them over his shoulder. He wraps an arm around Dream’s waist. And silently, relieved to be standing again, Dream follows Hob home.

~~

Dream’s flat is closer to campus, so Hob takes him there, gets him settled on the couch and makes tea and pushes a box of biscuits into Dream’s hands, and all this before even telling Dream off for his behavior. Dream is not a child, he knows perfectly well how much sustenance a body needs to sustain it, he knows that it is unwise to go without eating, so why doesn’t Hob tell him so? Chastise him for his foolishness?

Dream sits curled up on the couch. Turning the box of biscuits over and over in his hands, unopened. Finally, Hob sits beside him with his own tea.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

Dream can’t manage to get himself to open the biscuits. He sets the box in his lap, but picks up his tea as a compromise that will hopefully ease Hob’s worries. It does not work, based on Hob’s expression as he watches him do it. Dream sips his tea anyway. Hob’s put a lot of honey into it. Correctly deducing that Dream hasn’t had enough sugar or anything else today.

Instead of responding, he tears up.

Hob puts both of their mugs back on the coffee table and pulls him into his arms.

Dream presses his face into Hob’s shoulder. Tucks his hands in against the warmth of Hob’s body, pressed between his back and the couch. Crawls halfway into his lap. Hob wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Dream feels like his soul is pattering around and only staying contained by the boundaries created by Hob’s body. He doesn’t know what that feeling is.

Hob strokes his hair, murmurs against the shell of his ear, shh darling, it’s okay. Dream is a pathetic cowering creature soothed by Hob’s touch. That feeling. It’s fear. He’s scared. Scared of himself. That he can lose such control while grasping so tightly for it.

“Thank you,” he finally manages, something he should have said earlier, but means more than he can say, “for coming.”

“You could have called me, you know.” It’s not accusatory, but a little hurt. “It’s okay if you’d rather have Death, just—”

“It is not that. I—” He pulls back to see Hob’s face. Hob wipes the tears from his cheeks. “Death has told me her feelings on the matter before. I was… apprehensive to hear yours.” Death, also, has seen Dream at lower points than this. She can hardly think less of him. The same is not true of Hob.

Hob looks sad to hear this. “My feelings are that I’m concerned. Did you eat anything today?”

“…No.”

“What about yesterday?”

Dream thinks. He must have, surely? “I think so.”

“I can make you stuff, you know,” Hob says. “Whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

This is the last thing Dream wants. For Hob to think this is somehow his fault.

“If you’re forgetting I can just come get you whenever I’m eating,” Hob continues. He’s only growing more distressed at Dream’s silence.

How can Dream tell Hob, who cares so much and wants to help, that he does this on purpose? That he doesn’t forget that he’s hungry, but rather ignores it? Or worse, relishes in it? That he has done so for a long time. That it makes him feel sharper. In control of himself.

That once broken, habits are, it turns out, very hard to pick up again. Even when that habit is eating.

“It is not so simple, I’m afraid,” he says, ducking his head.

“No, I guess it wouldn’t be.” Hob bites his lip, looking away. “Why, then? I want to help you, but I don’t…”

“It makes me feel better,” Dream says. “Until it doesn’t.”

Like today. He pushed too far. But it’s only when he does go too far that the reality of what he’s doing comes back to him. It’s easy to forget, when he is used to it.

Ironically, he knows from experience that it will be easier to eat better in the next few days, now that he’s shocked himself back to reality. It will be easier, until he slips again. He doesn’t know how not to slip.

When he finally looks back up, Hob is already looking at him again. He looks sad. Dream doesn’t want him to be sad.

Hob takes Dream’s jaw in his hand, strokes his thumb over Dream’s lower lip. “You scared me, seeing you like that.”

Dream should probably apologize for his behavior. Instead, all he can do is lean in again to press his forehead against Hob’s. He knows Hob wants to fix it, to offer solutions, but all Dream really wants is his touch. Hob’s touch fixes more for him than anything else.

“I’m gonna stay over,” Hob says, cradling the back of his head. “And we’re going to have dinner.”

It is, in fact, almost dinnertime, Dream realizes. No wonder he felt overcome, after having nothing until now. Hob will insist on him having something, he knows. It still feels… strange. To be having something.

He tucks his face into Hob’s neck. “Very well.”

“Will you eat some of it?” Hob asks, petting his hair again, tugging the short strands between his fingers. Dream thinks it must be soothing to him to do so.

“Yes,” he says. “However. I don’t want you to think that this is your responsibility to fix.” Or that you can. Hob is very very good at taking things apart and fixing problems, but if he digs his hands into this one he is going to get his fingers jammed in the unsteady gears of Dream’s brain. He is only going to get hurt in trying.

“Maybe not,” says Hob, and, like he heard what Dream didn’t say, continues, “but I can feed you one meal so let’s start with that?”

Does Hob understand how much comfort he brings? Can he possibly?

“I love you,” Dream murmurs, almost unintelligible for how close he’s pressed himself to Hob’s body.

Hob kisses his head. “I love you, too, my darling.”

He bundles Dream closer so their limbs are all tangled together. Dream loves that, how he can feel each pressure point where they touch. “Will you tell me more about it? When you feel up to it. The more I get how you feel, the more I can help you.”

As a child, Dream’s favorite number was zero. Some mathematicians would insist zero was not actually a number, but rather the absence of one. That was exactly what Dream liked about it. The nothing defined by the everything around it. Zero was foundational, and yet it was not even properly there at all.

Sometimes Dream felt like zero. The less he ate the more he felt it. It was easier to be nothing than to let the everything in.

“You are insistent upon trying to help me,” Dream says.

“Yup.”

“Because,” Dream realizes, with a hard swallow, “you love me.”

“Exactly. You get it.”

Dream twists their fingers together and squeezes. If Dream is zero, Hob is like infinity, so boundless that he can’t help but let it engulf him.

Perhaps one day Dream will be able to explain it all to him in better words than that.

[deliciouskeys]

Just to address something going on with Annie/Erin:

I unfortunately agree with the probably misogynistic X/Reddit crowds on one point, and that is that Erin looks more and more unnatural each season. I thought she’d be at a plateau but it’s gone further in S4.

Now, to distance myself from those crowds: I never blame a celebrity for botched or less-than-perfect surgeries. I think every celebrity tries to look good to stay competitive. Their face is their livelihood. Cosmetic surgeries aren’t illegal PEDs. Anyone doing them isn’t looking to get a bad result that displeases the audience. Her look isn’t bad per se, but it looks unnatural and trendy. She’s in an unfortunate position of being on one show running for 5-6 years now so people can directly cross compare. She’s also on a show whose plot entails her character leaving an entertainment/publicity driven corporate machine, and having a natural look would fit in much better with that storyline. I also sometimes wonder if her acting and emoting are hampered by Botox. I’m not sure it’s a problem or if she’s even done it, but it’s bad that the thought comes up.

The one thing I do think Erin could be doing better (or could have done better, maybe that ship has sailed) is not denied having work done. I think so many celebrities would have the public on their side if they said “yeah I went to change my look. I like it, I apologize if you don’t” or even “yeah I went to change my look, it’s not exactly what I envisioned but it’s something I wanted to do”. I know that’s not realistic to expect a person to say, as very few celebrities own up to it because of a weird severe stigma attached to it. For some it’s also a positive feedback loop of being perpetually unhappy with some aspect of their looks.

Do I wish she hadn’t touched her face in her 20s? Yeah. Do I believe that she was seeing signs of aging and thought she’d head it off at the pass and just slightly enhance her looks and no one would notice? Yeah.

[bluginkgo]

"Nice Corpse House My Guy" Remastered Behind Scenes!

The most glaring and obviously annoying thing that's evident in this comic- if you even wanna call it that- are the god forsaken BACKGROUNDS. There was a lot of experimentation going on for backgrounds here. Because the first couple pictures, THAT is what I used to draw backgrounds as. Trees are sticks and grass is flat. I realized that wasn't gonna cut it. I didn't like it at all. So I started experimenting and boy was it messy. It finally sorta settled on the style by the end of the comic. I'm still unhappy with it, but it'll have to do for now.

Here's a small comparison

One thing that I ran into was how I was gonna show that N was in his "killer mode." I could have placed the X's over the pupils, but found it unnatural looking in my style. So instead, it was settled to a concentrated light in the pupils.

Best seen between these two. The second N snaps out of it, the X/light in his pupils disappears, and the normal light returns to his eyes, which is similar to Uzi's.

Another thing I started slowly including was Uzi's little tooth on her beak.

The jutting out portion on her beak is a personal touch. Although it doesn't really matter, I included it to separate her from the rest of the "worker drones." Seen as she's an absolute solver host and has a solver form, something was going to creep up in her crow design, hence the little teeth. Doll would have them too, given I draw her in the form I've been thinking about.

Another thing I ran into, was WHAT WAS UZI GONNA TAKE N DOWN WITH?! This is a bird vs. a dog! No way was a bird gonna decommission a whole dog! Then this scene came up in my recent rewatch of Murder Drones.

And it clicked. Loooong long time ago, I had a very specific hyperfixation: birds. One thing I learned that some pigeons do, was they're capable of doing a somersault. And in mid-air, too!

I was finally set. The SICK AS HELL RAILGUN was downgraded to a simple piece of shiny glass/pebble that attracted Uzi- and crows love shiny things. And the same pebble will be used to launch at N's sensor that made him trip over. Because I was also not going to draw N doggo losing his head. I love gorey and bloody shows and art- hence why I watched Murder Drones- but I honestly had no idea how to recreate that, and I suck at drawing gore in general, I mean, did you SEE the crow N was chewing on? That was my best try honestly.

Here are some progress shots and how the layers worked in the scene where N is bonked with a stick.

As per usual, start with a sketch, this is actually 2nd sketch. The first is much rougher, just some circles and random shapes to outline his body form.

Then, this is all outlined and rendered. Along with some additions like the stick and the little rock.

The background was the hardest, aside from some weird angles I picked to draw Uzi and N at. I suck at backgrounds, like I've mentioned many times before. So, this needed a lot of testing and experimenting. Most of this works because I found some cool brushes to use. But aside from that, I honestly still don't like how it looks. It's slightly better than my stick trees and flat grass though, I guess.

Put it all together, add a black layer to simulate nighttime, put some lights to show moonlight through trees and voila, you've got an N doggo that got bonked by a stick! I see this project/comic mostly as practice and testing. Background testing mostly, and some brushes. The background/brush testing actually spilled over into another post of the solver Uzi I made a bit back. I'd say I was pretty happy how it turned out, but brush wise, I was going to test around a little more.

NUzi comic 'Sleep' is my next project. Uhhh, don't ask me when I'm gonna have it out, I have no idea. I'm guessing sometime end of Jan and beginning of Feb. But that might be delayed seeing as Murder Drones ep7 should be out sometime soon too, so I'll need to go crazy about that for a bit and then I'll go back to my usual thing ^_^ 'Sleep' will take place still between the Pilot and Heartbeat.

P.S. I have all 26 pages story boarded... good god what happened to the 'mini' part of the comic 😭

Anyways, why are you still here?! Have a cookie ^_^ you made it! Have a nice day now, bye bye <3

[seramilla]

So Sera after being reunited with Carmilla after thousands of years apart has some self confidence issues specifically with her appearance she doesn't feel like she's as attractive as she was when she and Carmilla had been dating all those years ago. So due to these issues she buys or somehow gets some lingerie and in the hope it'll help her feel sexy. She's looking at herself in the mirror and doesn't feel sexy just that this was a dumb purchase and waste of time. Carmilla than walks into the room sees her blushes and than pounces. Next thing Sera knows she's on their bed Carmilla on top of her kissing her passionately Carmilla likes the lingerie a lot and helps Sera feel better about her appearance.

Mostly fluff, awkwardness, and pining with implied sexytimes under the readmore.

Eight thousand years is a long time to be separated from your true love. Or was it 9000 years? Sera has lost count at this point. While the concept of aging isn't really something angels experience, their bodies can still change. When Carmilla and Sera had been young, they'd both been physically fit. Tall, agile, and perfect paragons of what angels are supposed to be.

When Carmilla fell, she remained in fighting shape, only because she had to. When Sera was promoted to High Seraphim, she spent her days toiling away at a desk, giving tours to Winners around Heaven, and raising Emily to be her successor. Her body, while still lean, has become lanky over the years, with some pudge in places that it wasn’t there before. Her flight muscles aren't as strong as they used to be. She fears if she so much as tries to lift a weight, she might fall over in embarrassment.

Carmilla says she loves her body. The arms dealer hasn't given her any reason to doubt that. Even so, Sera is always amazed at how...perfect Carmilla is, all these years later. Where Sera is fair and delicate, Carmilla has bulk and strength. She has a dancer's body. A warrior's body. Sera has...something, but she's definitely nothing like she used to be.

Carmilla's friend Rosie had told her to treat herself. "Get yourself something nice, girlie, something that makes you feel good about yourself." That's all it had been, at first. Sera isn't really trying to look sexy, per se. She had just wanted to...experiment and practice what Rosie had called "self-care." She'd never been shopping before, so asking for help from an employee at the boutique had been...a humbling experience.

She'd managed to come home with a beautiful piece of lingerie for her troubles. A bra and panty set made of deep, rich, royal purple lace. It's probably the most expensive thing she's ever afforded herself since she's been down here. She'd been blushing up a storm trying it on in the fitting room at the shop, and she's still blushing trying it on now, in the privacy of her own room, in front of her full-length mirror.

She has to admit it's flattering on her. While she doesn't care for her own assets that much, Carmilla does, and she appreciates that it accentuates all her best features. As she turns this way and that, over-analyzing her own body with the attention span of a bird of prey, she isn't...unhappy with what she sees. She could always be prettier, she imagines, but still, it does look...nice?

Sera doesn't get much further beyond that thought because her bedroom door suddenly slams open. Carmilla at once comes stomping into the room, frustration visible all over her face, as she throws herself onto the bed face first, screeching into the plush duvet.

"I swear to fucking Satan, if Velvette doesn't get her fucking colleagues under control for the next meeting, I'm going to--!"

Carmilla doesn't finish her threat, because that's when she notices Sera standing in front of the mirror. Any additional tirades she may have uttered dissipate into the wind at the sight of her wife standing there in nothing but her underwear. That underwear. Her eyes travel up and down Sera's body, as if in disbelief at what she's seeing.

"Sera..."

"Carmilla! Umm, what are you doing home so early, darling? I was just, uhh--oh Heavens, I'm so sorry, give me a minute, I'll change--!"

The golden flush on Sera's face spreads down to her neck and shoulders. She hadn't expected Carmilla to just bust in like this, without any warning. She realizes suddenly what she's wearing, or not wearing, as it were, and she can't stop the habit of trying to cover herself while she fumbles to pull her robe back on.

As Sera's about to pull it over her head, Carmilla is suddenly in front of her, taking it out of her grasp, and then drawing Sera into one of the most forceful, ferocious kisses the Seraphim has ever experienced. Carmilla grasps the back of Sera's head with her clawed hand, gripping the hair around Sera's nape with enough pressure that she whimpers into Carmilla's mouth.

"Is this for me?" Carmilla asks, almost growling, pulling away long enough to run the edge of her large claw along the swell of Sera's breast. The fabric of the bra is thin, and Sera can feel it through the lace. Sera shivers, and nods.

"Yes," Sera admits. "But I wasn't sure if you'd like it."

Carmilla's pupils dilate. She stares at Sera like she's said something crazy. Something completely bonkers, nuts, out of this world. Is the other angel all right in the head?

"Why on Earth wouldn't I like it?" Carmilla asks, running her claws around the curve of Sera's ass this time. Sera gasps. Oh, she really likes that. Carmilla does it again, enjoying the feeling of the lace and Sera's skin in her hand at the same time. Sera whimpers but tries to answer Carmilla's question.

"I don't know? I'm too lanky?"

Ridiculous.

Enough of this, Carmilla thinks. One moment, she's kissing Sera passionately, stopping any more self-deprecating comments from escaping her mouth. The next, she's on top of Sera on their bed, looking down at the flushing angel like she's a big cat that’s just pounced on her prey. Like she wants to eat Sera right up. A part of her actually does.

Sera tries to cover herself again, feeling the weight of Carmilla's scrutiny upon her. Carmilla doesn't let her.

"You were...are still...the most beautiful thing in any of the realms. I don't know how you ever got it into your head that you're not. Or that I don't like what I see when I look at you. Would I ever lie to you about that?"

"Well, no, but..."

"But? What but? Do you need me to prove it? Because I will, hermosa."

Sera grins cheekily, still flushing, but sensing a bit of teasing starting to enter Carmilla's voice. "...Maybe? That might help?"

Carmilla laughs. "Consider it done. Now hold still."

Carmilla spends the rest of the afternoon showing Sera just how beautiful she thinks she is. So Sera never forgets. Thankfully, Sera thinks she may have a really hard time forgetting after today.

[denialcity]

hashirama & butsuma grave ficlet

I was in a hashirama mood over the weekend, kinda wanted an epilogue ish thing for a fic I'm not gonna write

===

"Honourable father," Hashirama greets as he lights the incense and sticks it standing in the tray before the name tablet. He claps his hands together and bows. 

"Hope you're well," he says conversationally as he settles into his seat on the floor cushion to watch the stick of incense burn down. "I tried to get Tobirama to come with me, but he… actually I think it's better if I don't repeat what he said." 

The rising smoke curls around the name tablet. SENJU BUTSUMA the gold lettering declares. 

"You've got three granddaughters now. They're in Uzushio right now— Mito's mother insisted they visit once Mito and the baby were fit to travel, and she adores them so much she won't let them come back just yet— that's why it's just me."

"The village with the Uchiha is going well. Hikaku-san has really settled in and he's a great clan head. Mission death rate is down even more than anticipated with their three-man team system. Illness-related death is record-low as well. Income per capita doubled and peace is. Really good. It's really, really good. There are some things here and there I'd change if I could but overall it's more than I ever dreamed."

His fingers fiddle with the hem of his sleeve, a habit which had gotten him scolded in childhood, which only reappears here in the ancestral shrine.

"I wish you could have seen it," Hashirama concludes as the red ember of the incense stick burns out.

"You always were an angry man, so no doubt you would have found something to be unhappy about, but I still wish you could have seen what all your son's useless dreaming amounted to." 

He stands.

"Anyways, I can't stay," he explains apologetically. "Village to run, clan to lead, all that. It's busy work. I'll be back next year hopefully." 

He bows and steps backwards out of the shrine. 

"Until then, father," he says, and he closes the doors. 

[three--rings]

So it turns out there were a lot of things from S2 I was waiting to pass judgement on until I saw how they played out and...I ended up not thrilled about. And it's all these little things that keep bothering me.

Things I'm not happy with in OFMD S2:

-Jim and Olu feel retconned into not being in love. Like I know we want to talk about happy polycule but it feels like they aren't even very close this season? They were even more of a secondary ship than Lucius and Pete in S1 but we got essentially no good Jim/Olu stuff in S2. Instead we got the Olu/Zheng Yi Sao romance which on paper sounds good, but lacked chemistry. Especially from Olu's side. I feel like they kept repeating that "break in your day" thing cause they didn't have anything else. IDK weird weird decisions were made. I don't mind the Jim/Archie stuff at all but that was also not given any real romance time. They kissed and then I guess that was that?

-While on the subject of Zhang Yi Sao...why was she there? Like, don't get me wrong, I love her character and her inclusion in the show, but while the build-up in the first few episodes was great, then...they did basically nothing with her. Her entire plan was foiled by a moron in a split second and then..IDK she's now just riding on the Revenge and not even in charge? She's come way down in the world and I don't like it.

-Izzy dying. I don't mind the death scene itself, (though i wanted Izzy's friends on the crew more involved) but I think having him die shifts the genre and is disappointing in a way that feels unlike this show. more to be said obviously but not in this post.

-Speaking of that scene I grow more and more annoyed with Izzy saying "they love you, Ed." Not because it's not a great sentiment that would be narratively meaningful, but because it's NOT DEMONSTRABLY TRUE. Who loves Ed on that crew? Maybe Fang? There was absolutely no moments between Ed and crew after ep 3. They tolerate him for Stede's sake is all I can say. They love Stede. They love Izzy. And then Ed just leaves them and they are probably relieved.

-the way the central problem the whole season with Ed and Stede was communication but they never actually do anything about that, just declare victory.

-the way there was no climax or resolution with any antagonist in the last episode, they just barely escape, swear revenge like they're gonna head into battle, and then retire. Which makes ZERO sense and it bothers me SO MUCH.

-The lack of Stede and Ed costuming. IDK if it's because I've been writing a fic for a year centered around the clothing but like the show feels incomplete if they're not getting to dress up. I was looking forward to Ed wearing more than his leathers and we got a rice sack. This is entirely a personal gripe and not important but, yeah.

-Zero focus on the crew and no new info about any of them. I was really, really looking forward to getting more backstory, more personal info on characters like Roach, Frenchie, Wee John, but no.

And yanno, the thing is that I'm not unhappy with what S2 GAVE us. I like most of it. I love eps 1-6. Though 6 is showing the pacing issues badly. But what I miss is what we DIDN'T get. None of the stuff on screen was bad per se or couldn't have fit into a very excellent, cohesive season of TV. But I feel like all the connective tissue, all the thematic resolution, all the stuff that would have made it shine was missing.

Like they had a bunch of notecards of great scenes and filmed them but forgot to write the parts to connect them in a meaningful way? IDK this season feels a little like a first draft?

Not eps 1-3 though. I feel like they were perfect, and then they ran out of time/energy to polish the rest. (4-5 were also great, but they could have fit in with the rest better ultimately.)

I feel like people who are happy with this season are like 'we got this moment and this scene!' and that's great and cool and I also love that moment but I'm still left unsatisfied by the whole, yanno. Sigh.

[mrsjavierp]

Where You Belong?

Chapter 1 - Do you know who I am?

Javier Peña x latin! f! Reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the WHOLE fic): +18! angst, smut, cheating, past relationships, drug dealing, Narcos Universe, violence... Bad Spanish (sorry), English is my second language. Using "y/n" and "y/ln".

(If I forgot any warning, pls tell me!)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I need to thank my new friend @creedslove for the support here. Girl, thanks so much!

As I said before, that's my first fic that I ever post in my whole adult life. I couldn't resist Javier Peña breaking into my dreams. My mind is on fire!

Hope you all liked it!

Suggestions are always welcome!

**

Narrator's POV:

Lighting up his cigarette, Javier Peña looked through his bedroom window. It was just another hot night, just like the ones that passed or the ones coming. His latest bar conquest was laying down on his bed, sleeping peacefully.

A peace that was nowhere near familiar to him.

Javi closed his eyes, inhaling his cigarette. Tasting as it was the most delicious thing in his mouth at that time.

Even with this scalding heat, even the loud noises on the streets at ungodly hours, even the so-called "drug war" - that he was fighting on his country's behalf... When he thought about all the bad things going on, nothing compared to his own personal war that was waiting for him in Texas.

Yes, Colombia felt better than being at Rancho Peña with his wife and son.

That was really fucking painful, since Laredo once were his home.

His wife, Lorraine, that one who he almost left at the altar... If it weren't for his kid on her womb.

His son... Javier felt like he was the only good thing that came out of his marriage. His sweet little baby boy, gentle and loving, totally unlike his awful mother.

Javier inhales his cigarette for the last time, puts it out and lays down again.

The girl he brought home was still asleep quietly next to him, breathing lightly as a feather.

For a moment, as he looked at her, he felt so jealous: he envied her youth, her freedom, her possibilities...

War against Escobar wasn't even that bad when he thought about his war against Lorraine. He knew, once he stepped foot on Laredo again, his life would be really miserable.

Yes, Javier Peña preferred to live just like that: alone in Colombia, drinking too much whiskey, smoking too many cigarettes, fucking around with prostitutes and random women, sleeping 3 hours per night, seeing horrible things the men did to enemies...

Yes, he chose loneliness over his unhappy marriage.

Neither su mama or Chucho made him do it, but the way he was raised and his sense of responsibility tied him to Lorraine. Her family, as herself, loved to live by the so-called good costumes.

He hated their hypocrisy.

Tired, Javier finally lay down and tried to sleep, tried, one more time, stay away from his real life nightmares.

*

Steve snorted when he noticed Javier walking into the DEA office, clearly hangover, wearing a beige suit and his golden aviator sunglasses.

"Could at least clean up better, Peña. We've got a guest."

Frowning his forehead, he took off his glasses and asked: "DEA is bringing people from Miami again?"

"No, NYC. Y/LN is a huge name there, made a bunch of arrests, big ones, actually. Drug Lords... Does it ring a bell to you? The rumor is that Y/LN is going to help us end Escobar... Someone said that, with Y/LN in the house, we've got a better shot."

Javier snorted and said: "Let's see if this cabrón is actually good or not."

"Javi..." - Steve started.

"Spill, Murphy."

"Nevermind, Peña. Come on, all the others are waiting in the conference room already."

Steve knew better than to say, from the beginning, that Y/LN was, in fact, a woman. And she was exactly his type: the one who will not get involved with him nor their teammates, sex and work do not meet. Her fame was really well known in NYC and went to Colombia with Y/LN... And, hot as hell.

They walked to the conference room, with all the other DEA agents waiting for her.

"Who does this pendejo think that he is, making us wait? Where's this motherfucker?" - Javier thought.

A few minutes later, Javier observed that his colleagues were looking for their seats when a beautiful woman walked in. Although he didn't quite understand, he copied their moves.

Wearing a white button down shirt, a black tight skirt knees high, heels and her hair loose, she started her speech:

"Buenos dias, amigos." - her accent was crystal clear latin, just like his. Her red lips showed her pretty smile. - "I'm guessing that you're all asking yourselves why they sent me here. The answer is quite simple, actually: you didn't catch the motherfucker. I came here to make it faster and more effective. Don't expect me to sit behind my desk and read reports, I'm a field agent just like all of you. I don't like nor want secrets to be kept from me. Oh, by the way, I'm Y/N, but I'd rather be Y/LN. I came from NYC invited by the DEA and the Embassy. Got any questions?"

They looked at each other, in silence.

"Let's cut to the chase, then."

"Holyfuck..." - was the only thing going on Javier's mind.

Steve held it up, because he knew exactly what Javi was thinking.

*

"Let's go, Peña. We're all going to drink with our new boss. Stop being such an ass and hurry up. Word on the streets that she loves a good whiskey, just like you." - he teased.

Javier rolled his eyes, he knew he had to go, he had no other choice. He hated this mandatory get togethers... At least, he got a new card on his set: his gorgeous new boss.

Arriving at the bar next to their office, people went to their own groups. Once more, he looked at her, from a safe distance, admiring her.

Javier Peña wasn't a greedy man, he'd love to take his time, go with the flow. He was pretty confident that his boss was aware of his... Kind, per say, and he was counting on it.

He ordered 2 whiskies, neat.

Walking up to Y/LN, Murphy and Connie, with 2 whiskies in hand, he said:

"Bienvenida, jefe. Here, a welcome drink. Hope you enjoy it, I heard it's your favorite."

"Javier Peña..." - his name felt like music in her voice. - "Is that really your name, or do you use another one with your girls?" - She, Connie and Steve laugh their asses off. - "Sorry... I mean, informants." - She took the drink from his hand. - "Gracias, Peña. Salut!" - she had a sip.

Javier couldn't believe it.

"Nice taste, Peña... I mean, the drink, of course." - she looked at Connie and Steve, who shared a hug. - "To friendship as well, Connie, honey, you're so sweet... And Steve, you're not as bad. Can't say the same about where you get your inside info. What brings you here, to us?"

He stared at Steve, really pissed off. He was positive that joke had his signature.

Pretending not to hear half the things his boss said, he responded:

"About Connie, I agree. I still can't believe Murphy got married to such a nice gal." - Javier smiled. - "I just wanted to welcome you and wish you luck, jefe."

"I don't believe in luck, Agent Peña. I believe in facts... But thank you, you seem to mean well. If you all excuse me..." - and Y/N left to the restroom, leaving the empty glass on the way.

Javier was LIVID. That bitch... He never wanted to get Escobar so badly.

"Did I do something to her?" - Javier asked the couple.

Steve and Connie shared a look and a laugh. There was absolutely no reason for Javier's reaction towards Y/N.

"Javier Jesus Peña, have you ever been rejected?" - Connie asked. - "You haven't, have you?"

"That's not the point..."

"Congrats, Javi... She's your first." - Steve completed. - "And to make it even funnier, she's not going anywhere."

Javi didn't say anything more. He just looked around, trying to see if he could avoid going home alone.

*

As rare as it may seem, Javier chose to come home by himself. Connie and Steve had way too many drinks and, as a good friend, he helped his neighbors to arrive safely.

But, it meant that he was alone with his thoughts, and insisted on going back to Y/LN. To think about the way she talks, moves, dresses... So smart, so gorgeous, so sexy... But so far away, at the same time she was so close, just right next door.

"What the fuck is her problem with me?" - Javier whispered to him. He poured more whiskey to drink, as he remembered her red lips and wished... - "I can't think about her like that!"

He finished the drink in one big sip and lit a cigarette, trying, in vain, not to be with his dick hard.

But his brain had other plans... His brain, almost as a betrayal, kept recalling him about Y/N. He tried to go take a cold shower, but, again, in vain.

As he stood under cold water, his dick was still very much hard.

As he cursed himself and his stupid dick who couldn't see a pretty girl, his hand went to satisfy his needs.

His need for you.

He gave in to his darkest secrets and came on his fist, calling you.

*

Y/N's POV - 1st Person

As I walked home, I could only think about how stupid I was.

Why did I did such a thing?

"It was for the best, anyway..." - I said to myself, as I took off my clothes and sank into my tub. - "Hard, but smart. Play safe. Out of sight, out of mind..." - I continued to lie to myself.

As my hands spread the soap through my body, my mind kept bringing him back to me... His beige suit, his stupid cocky smile, his big hands...

"Oh, fuck... Why do I like Peña so much? Oh, yeah, he's handsome, smart, latin and oh, yeah, reminds me of my stupid cheating ex who loved a prostitute..." - I kept talking to myself, bitter.

"If i don't blow off some of this, I'm going nuts. So, let's do it."

And my hands touched myself until I came really hard to my new fantasy: ride Javier Peña as he called me "su jefe".

Next

[theoreticalconstruct]

A Different Life (FFVIIr)

(The setup contains character death, although it's in the past; the five of them are in the afterlife.)

So I have this fic idea I came up with ages ago, where Aerith can bring the people she loves into the "meadow" place where she apparently was watching over them (per Advent Children) when they died, and this would've happened at some point where she was able to have all five of them there (herself, Tifa, Cloud, Barret and Zack.)  So now they're all watching over the Planet and the people who are still alive, and trying to make sure that the Lifestream doesn't get damaged again.

I combined that with the weird timeline stuff that FFVIIr seems to be doing, and I got this.

A Different Life - Final Fantasy VII fanfiction, Barret/Cloud/Tifa/Aerith/Zack, for @romancingbarret.

Prompt: Vacation ---

They looked so happy, Barret thought, staring through the mako into the vision that he'd found. They were so happy that it made his heart hurt.

They were on a beach he didn't recognize, certainly not the tourist trap that was Costa Del Sol. The water was a clearer and brighter blue, and the sun glittered on the waves. He was resting on a chair, artificial arm resting on his chest; Zack was standing next to him, no umbrella and skin already slightly reddened in the heat, talking nonstop about something, and Barret was smiling. It was definitely him, he thought; if there was one thing he'd realized since he'd met Zack in that strange meadow, it was that he never, ever stopped talking.

From the water he saw the others, Tifa and Aerith and Cloud, making their way out of the surf. The girls were pulling Cloud out of the surf, looking like a wet chocobo; his hair was flat against his skull, for once, falling into his eyes. But he didn't look unhappy as the ladies led him up to their beach chairs. Tired, maybe, but satisfied.

He barely remembered Cloud looking tired and happy, back then; he'd always been so serious, Barret had spent some effort to learn how to read the man and see when he was joking or trying not to smile. And he didn't see Tifa laughing that way, her back straight, her eyes shining. Aerith was waving at them, and Zack and Barret were waving back as the three of them approached....

"A different timeline," he heard Aerith say behind him. "There are always timelines where things are better, because there are so many. It can make things tough sometimes, knowing that someone else got to be happy in your place. Even if it was you."

Barret looked back at her, saw a sort of longing in her eyes. "Aerith," he said gently, reaching for her hand.

"Hm?" She looked back up at him, and he could see her face smoothing over. "Sorry. I shouldn't be selfish," she admitted.

 "Nah... I get it." He looked back over at himself, at him smiling as he hugged the others. They loved each other, he could see that much. Like they did now, only... only without all the pain and the long separations, the lifetime of stumbling over each other in those difficult times. "Gotta wonder about one thing, though."

"Oh?" She tilted her head as she looked past him. "What?"

"Where's Marlene?" He pointed at the chairs - only five. And the little girl was nowhere to be found. "She would've been four, then... I can't imagine I'd leave her behind."

"I don't know," Aerith said softly. "I could look, I guess. Maybe this is a timeline where you didn't have to take her away from Corel. Maybe the others survived and you just left and met us some other way?"

They all loved each other, he could see that much - all of them hugging, kissing, laughing together. Maybe not the same way he loved them all now, but something like it. But... no Marlene? He couldn't imagine it. Couldn't imagine it was him.

Barret nodded and stood, and closed his eyes. "If none of that happened," he said, turning back to smile at Aerith, "then it's not really you, is it?"

"Barret -"

"I mean it," he interrupted her. "Think about it - if none of the things happened that made us who we are, then we're not the same people." He turned back - he was softer in that timeline, not the fighter he'd been back then when he'd been alive. He didn't judge anybody for it, least of all himself; it had meant he'd lived a more peaceful life. He just knew that he would've never let himself relax that much, not while there was a Planet to fight for. "Besides, how do we know what's gonna happen in a world like that, where we're not fighting for the Planet? Maybe she's still in pain, and we just didn't hear it. Maybe there wasn't anyone to help her."

She watched him as he turned away, her bright eyes narrowing. "We can't know without... well, finding some way to look. Would you want to?"

He shook his head. "Nah," he said, smiling at her and squeezing her hand before he let go, turning around to walk away. "Ain't no point in gettin' upset on what happened to somebody else, even if it was me, kinda. Besides, just because something's different doesn't mean it's better than what we have now."

She smiled. "That's... a good way of looking at it," she said softly. "It took me a long time not to feel jealous, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand the jealousy," he admitted. "But I'm happy with what I've got now. No regrets. Now let's get back to the others."

She nodded and put one hand against his back as well, and the two of them went back through the mists, where the ones they loved were waiting for them.

[copperbadge]

Sam, you’ve talked a bit about the anger that comes with going undiagnosed for so long, and with having parents that dismissed your struggles. I’m about your age and I recently told my mom that I am relatively sure I have ADHD and that I was looking into getting a diagnosis, and I was at least 60% expecting her to disagree. And instead she said. “Oh yeah, I always thought that.”

Like. ????? WHAT. WHY DID SHE NOT EVER SAY ANYTHING???? Also, she was a teacher for years, and she knows how much I struggled in school so I am just. I’m honestly not sure if this is better or worse than her trying to say I couldn’t possibly have it. Like, at least she acknowledges that I struggled I guess? :/ Anyways, how’s it going with you?

I mean, I'm a big fan of repression.

That's only partially a joke. I'm not a big fan of repression but I do believe in trying to correct negative/damaging thoughts when they can't lead anywhere productive. I'm not a "think positive" person per se, but...

Yes, I am angry I didn't get a diagnosis earlier, particularly since it's not like my family was ignorant about the issue. But meditating on that just makes me more upset, and discussing this with my mother is not going to be cathartic for me or productive for either one of us. Even if I just wanted to take out my anger on her, which is a childish but understandable impulse, it's not like she did it maliciously. She was doing the best she could alone with three kids to raise and she desperately needed at least one of them to be "normal", for reasons that have much more to do with her upbringing and mental health than anything to do with me or my siblings. 

And that's all a fucked up situation, but there's nothing to be done about the past. So when I feel annoyance or anger, I stop and think, okay, but there's no point in lingering. Get it out if you have to, but then let's move on to how you can repair that damage. Then I talk about it on here so other people will feel okay about it, and I try to practice compassion, to remember that my parents tried to give their kids a good life with the tools they had and with their own disabilities to deal with.

It sounds like you're in a different place than I am, so I don't know how helpful this is. Not that you really asked for help, it's sweet that you just asked me how I'm doing, but I like to be helpful anyway :) I think the anger you're feeling is normal; the "oh yeah I assumed you had a disability and DID NOTHING" situation is actually quite common, you're not the first person I've spoken to who's had that experience. But part of managing the anger is making a conscious decision about what to do when you feel it.

Pema Chodron, a Buddhist nun, wrote a book called Start Where You Are that I read about five years ago and which I've found useful in managing emotions about things I can't change. I think it gets overhyped as a self-help book, but that's not really how it functions; it's more about explicating a specific line of Buddhist reasoning and using Buddhist practice to accept the difficulty of the world without buying into helplessness over it. Part of that is learning to sit in the pain of unhappiness -- to acknowledge an emotion, experience it, and move into either using it for a productive purpose or letting it go. It's a practice that doesn't come easily, but it does seem to help, at least for me.

Funnily enough, I started writing the Shivadh novels before I had a diagnosis but I knew from the first novel that Jerry was neurodiverse. Writing him with ADHD, even as a supporting character, has been very helpful for me because like me he can't really talk to his parents about it, with a father who has passed and a mother who is in denial. But he's still a fundamentally likable person who gets to demonstrably mature over the course of the books, to achieve things he couldn’t before and be praised for it. It's very satisfying to write about someone who got a late diagnosis and that made his life measurably better. Because it has, for both of us! I would rather have this diagnosis at forty than never have had it at all.

So yeah I'm sad, and angry, and struggling, but crucially I'm not taking it out on myself or others, and I know that this is a temporary situation. These are feelings that will fade in time because they arise from grief for could-have-been, and it's worth the sadness and the anger to have the diagnosis and to finally have help. I can't help the failures and bad relationships and mistakes I made because I had a disability I didn't know about, but I didn't know about it -- and now that I do I can improve my life going forward. What I'm feeling now is passing; what caused those feelings is permanent, and from now on I'll understand myself better (and, at least in theory, have access to bomb-ass medication to help raise my quality of life).

[irresistiibles]

this event is lowkey my child so i am super excited! i will be away for a few days of it since i'm flying to seattle on the 20th and coming back the 25th but i'll still have my computer and am optimistic i can still get a lot done. with that said beneath the cut is a starter/plot call! i am capping it at 4 per character and per mun, though if there is something you really want to do i may be able to expand. feel free to like to plot or just reply with what starters you want and i'll make it happen. definitely let me know who you want it from and for cause i hate making decisions. finally, though i'll still write this week i will probably be dropping pre-event threads once it actually starts. you can find a condensed post with the starters i owe HERE.

amber - went in willingly - open to death and injury

amber definitely wandered in here with lumine thinking it was something exciting. all things considered she's still kinda intrigued even being stuck within the maze. they'll be helping people out, and be a bit concerned, but in a still upbeat and cheery way. can bring good energy to people who need it

starters (2/4) - gnudy, eula lawrence

asami sato - went in willingly - open to injury and maybe death

to say she went in by choice isn't entirely accurate. her girlfriend wanted to go in and asami wasn't going to let her just wander in alone. asami is freaked out but also a little used to weird stuff, and does have a gun with her. another one who will be helpful as needed.

starters (0/4)

ciel phantomhive - was forced in by magic - open to injury

yeah he's not the type to go in a corn maze even if it didn't just pop up over night, unless he has to and has his demon butler with him. since neither of things were true ciel had no intention of going anywhere near the maze and he's very unhappy to wind up there. he's not a great fighter and tires quickly, he's got a weapon he barely knows how to use, and will be trying his best to keep himself alive. he could probably use some help, though he would be the type to turn on others to save himself

starters (2/4) - lizzie midford, blaine anderson

columbina - was forced in by magic - open to injury

she probably found the whole idea intriguing but from a distance. she's not the type to get mad or upset even in the worst of situations, and honestly would not blame anyone wandering the maze who saw her creepy ass just sort of humming along as she goes and assumed she was a monster to fight.

starters (2/4) - alcina dimitrescu, henry creel

esther mckinnon - went in willingly - open to death and injury

honestly i think she entered just a tiny bit before the maze forced people in, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. esther is fully unaware, does not know how to use her magic, and is basically hoping to get by on good energy and a bottle of pepper spray. she could realistically use some help because otherwise she's not getting far here.

starters (3/4) - ethan mckinnon, marlene mckinnon, emmeline vance

glinda upland - was forced in by magic - open to injury and maybe death

yeah corn mazes are too outside in the dirt for her to have ever come in on her own. glinda is also not really a fighter, and only knows how to mostly use her magic to make defensive bubbles around herself. she's having a horrible time, probably is stuck there in heels, and really really wants to go home

starters (2/4) - cho chang, sella palpatine

gu zi - was forced in to magic - open to injury

i think he would consider going in but is a bit of a coward. if someone wants to say that they dragged him in though i would be happy to plot it. he's confused, scared, unhappy, and being a general cry baby about it. he is just absolutely not built for this please help.

starters (1/4) : sherlock holmes

inej ghafa - was forced in by magic dragged in by jesper - open to injury

no way in hell inej was entering a weird randomlly appearing corn maze of all things, and she's unhappy to have wound up here despite that fact. went in with jesper thinking it would be some quick childish thing and now here she is. she is pretty good at keeping herself safe, and her main priority is trying to find her friends, but she might help out others along the way.

starters (2/4) : kaz brekker, aelin galathynius

jin ling - went in willingly - open to death and injury

i was going to say he was forced in before i remembered jin ling is so good at walking into the worst situations ever without even thinking about it!! he's reckless and does not think and by the time he thought to hesitate going into this thing it was too late. he's also unaware so while he remembers some self defense skills his ability to fight is not nearly as good as it should be and he could be in a little trouble

starters (1/4) - nie ruizhi

lily evans - went in willingly - open to injury

unfortunately she and james were worried they were boring adults and decided to go explore in the worst way possible and now here they are. fortunately she is pretty decent with magic and self defense and is very used to the city's bullshit. her priorities and seeing if she can locate any of her friends and get the heck out of there but she will go and help others where she can.

starters (3/4) : lily luna potter, harriet hufflepuff, rubeus hagrid

luo qingyang (mianmian) - was forced in by magic - open to injury

she's so tired of this shit!! she kinda just wants to find a portion of the maze to camp in and roast some corn so people are welcome to join her for that plan because her desire to just wait this out is real. can fight and will try to help people however she can but god give her a break

starters (0/4)

madoka kaname - went in willingly - open to injury

another one who unfortunately just tends to walk into danger without thinking it through honestly. she probably thought it was just a surprise corn maze from the city and now here we are!! literally no way to defend herself beyond running and the worst right hook you've ever seen in your life and that will not stop her from throwing herself in danger to help others.

starters (1/4) - homura akemi

mei nianqing - was forced in by magic - open to injury and maybe death

this old man was not going to go anywhere near the corn maze!!! absolutely not are you kidding me! he's just trying to get back out again, though he was give (unwanted) advice to everyone he sees in a way that could maybe be considered helpful.

starters (0/4)

nico di angelo - was forced in by magic - open to injury

he knows a magic trap when he sees one and corn maze magically appearing reeks of magic trap. he's very capable of defending himself and even controlling some of the monsters wandering around so he can be a big help if you find him. though he's also very aware of death around him and may be feeling shitty because of how all too aware he will be of everyone dying in the maze.

starters (2/4) - bianca di angelo, hazel lavesque

nie huaisang - was forced in by magic - open to injury and maybe death

will be loudly crying until he finds someone who will help him through this whole thing! is also not mentally stable enough for any of this and may be very on edge!! be cautious around him i don't know what to expect from him so you shouldn't have any clue either.

starters (3/4) - jin guangyao, mo xuanyu, lan wangji

pearl - was forced in by magic

this is not pearl's scene at all but she is also very competent as a fighter and will probably be okay. she will be stressed rambling the whole time and stressing out everyone else around her as a result so there's that, but if you can deal with that she will be offering help. only one not really open to injury just because she's very hard to injure, but will happily involve her in someone else's injury or death plot

starters (2/4) - patch cipriano, dean winchester

princess zelda - was forced in by magic - open to injury

extremely confused and unhappy and stressed! zelda hates things she doesn't understand, and isn't much of a fighter, with only a little self defense training. she'll manage well in some of the more trap/survival areas but is going to have a very hard time dealing with monsters in the maze

starters (1/4) - patia por'co

roronoa zoro - went in willingly? - open to injury

i say he went in willingly but that's not entirely true. i'm so sure zoro was trying to head home one day and just wandered in to the maze by mistake, and now has been stuck there for an extra day. he is luckily very good at fighting and surviving, but his sense of direction is absolutely horrible so please!! help him out! also might start fights with other people because like, he just assumes anyone who looks a little strange or dangerous could be a monster. he's a mess

starters (1/4) - nami

shang qinghua - was forced in by magic - open to injury and maybe death

he knows a setup when he sees one! if anyone is capable of breaking the fourth wall of rp it would be shang qinghua who absolutely knew the corn maze could mean nothing but trouble and stayed away from it as long as possible. he's doing his best but is an every man for himself type of guy unless you're one of the rare people he likes and he will trip others to get away from monsters.

starters (1/4) - shen qingqiu

shi qingxuan - went in willingly - open to injury and maybe death

unfortunately qingxuan was probably out drinking with some friends who thought it would be fun to check out the random corn maze and now here they are! so unhappy! so stressed! so screwed!! trying to help out here and there despite everything but i cannot promise any actual useful help here. if anything she is the one who desperately needs assistance.

starters (1/4) - samara palpatine

toph beifong - was forced in by magic - open to injury

toph, who can use their seismic sense to see blocks of areas at a time and noticed the way the maze was constantly shifting and changing immediately definitely got in here only to immediately turn to anyone nearby and hit them with "well, maze is fucked." she'll be fine despite that tbh and will probably wind up having some fun fighting things, but isn't even trying to get out because she knows that's kinda impossible until whatever magic shit is happening stops, and will tell others this is the case

starters (1/4) - katara

wirt - was forced in by magic - open to injury

just went from one autumn themed horror show to another and is extremely unhappy about it!! hopeful that maybe his brother is somehow somewhere in this maze but he's not feeling good about it. extremely anxious but powering through to the best of his ability. he can't fight but he is relatively smart and he really wants out of this maze!! so if that means working with others that is absolutely fine by him

starters (2/4) - dani dennison, marco del rossi

yin yu - was forced in by magic - open to injury and non memory changing death

so tired. so so tired. he's got a shovel for a weapon, the energy of a sad thirty year old who has given up on improving his life, and is just sort of trudging through accepting that this is the next shit show in his never ending list of ls in life. he tries to be a good guy, he'll help out where he can, but if there is a vibe check he is not passing it

starters (0/4)

zagreus - went in willingly - open to injury and non memory changing death

he's excited! he hasn't gotten to experience many human halloween's and walked straight in and honestly, has not entirely realized there's something wrong with the situation. he likes fighting, he spent a chunk of his life escaping a maze like underworld, so he's having fun and feeling right at home. will help people out but will also be chuckling the whole time about what a cool event this is and how nice it is for the city to do it.

starters (1/4) : drusilla keeble

zhongli - went in willingly - open to injury and maybe death

this man is unfortunately the case of curiosity killed the cat. he knew it was probably a bad idea and walked in anyway! he's regretting it for sure since unaware zhongli can barely fight compared to aware zhongli, but he does have a level head and a very smart way of thinking, so he'll be getting by and repressing his emotions so he doesn't have to feel shaken until he escapes somehow

starters (1/4) - rowena ravenclaw

[an-aroaces-harem]

Since I was asked to elaborate on my Ellis brainrot, I tried to write something little. And I remembered why I'm bad at drabbles. It got longer than intended and it's by no way perfect or finished, I'll probably write a continuation one day.

He smiled at her. "If that makes you happy, of course."

In her opinion, every person had their own wavelength and depending on these wavelengths, people either got along or not. Her own wavelength was so weird that it had just a few compatible wavelengths. Not that she cared. Social interactions were hard, conversing with more than one person at once was impossible.

Yet, sometimes she couldn't stop herself from quipping into conversations, so she had to constantly tell herself 'just ignore them, it has nothing to do with you, just do your work'. Still, she managed to get on bad terms with most of her coworkers. It was her fault because she had untreated problems and would just lash them at her coworkers at any given moment.

So of course, one of her coworkers completely fucked up and no matter what they did or say, she would judge them. Bearing grudges was just so easy, you know? Would it better to seek therapy? But what would be left of her if she stopped judging everyone? She always felt empty inside, so talking down other people in her mind felt good.

Lucky for her, she was one of the best so her boss had no reason to throw her out. As long she could do work that required no teamwork and didn't have to deal with clients, she was fine, just sewing away curtains or whatever the clients ordered.

Their workshop was rather small, so they had a limited amount of sewing machines. She needed her order and had a hard time sharing, especially with people she couldn't stand, so as long as they remained exactly this number of workers, she didn't have to share.

Well, and then he joined. Of course, her boss told her that the moment had come where she had to share her sewing machine. It took all her best to surpress the incoming panic attack and well, five black teas with an unhealthy amount of sugar.

She was afraid; feeling only at ease when she went to her workplace in the morning and knew she had a place to sit down and work at. Especially after she saw him for the first time. He was so tall that her already small frame looked even smaller.

And yet, after he looked at her for a few seconds, he asked, "Are you unhappy sharing a sewing machine with me?"

That was a question she didn't expect. All others always told her she should stop acting like she was special, she should simply behave normally. The world wouldn't bend to her will.

She blinked at him. "What?"

"I don't want to make you unhappy, so I'll ask the boss to find another solution," he elaborated.

Her mind was in jumbles. Not only did his question surprise her, it also let some of her memories resurface. Memories of her mother.

Her mother who always claimed that she just wanted the best for her daughter. Sadly, her mother lived in an illusion. Her mother only cared as long as she felt she was doing the right thing and if her views didn't align with her daughter, it was always "Don't be like that. Didn't I do everything for you?"

Her mother wanted her to be happy but only as long as their happiness aligned. Him talking about happiness made her wary. She didn't need another person like her mother in her life.

"So, you really mean it? You mean my happiness and not your view of what my happiness should be like?"

"Yes, of course. Your happiness comes from you, not anyone else."

The thing was, it took her a long time to get away from her mother. She had been under her influence for so long that she didn't mind overcaring people per se. She wanted to be cared for, just not from liars.

In the end, she gave a hesitant nod. "Please don't disrupt my order. If something's in the way, you can put it away as long as it's back to its original place."

He smiled at her. "If that makes you happy, of course."

So, she showed him their now shared sewing machine. Even though she was rather small, she sat on the highest sewing machine, so he shouldn't have a problem with his height.

And then she realized that she didn't even know his name.

"Oh, I'm Ellis. Ellis Twilight."

[fateinthestars]

Hmm how about another review/ramble post for SCM? Let's cover this one today:

'His Divine Succor'

This set includes stories for: Leon, Scorpio, Zyglavis

Spoilers under cut.

Just to put some context here cos the title doesn't tell you much: a collaboration at MC's work falls through and she could do with some cheering up. These are also from the God's POV.

LEON

Pfft. Karno I think you might regret saying the normal gods can't keep up with Leon's speed, especially as he literally suggests out loud that you mean his usual slacking is just the right speed for everyone else. 🤣

Okay leaving that aside, Leon's very good at reading MC. He notices immediately that something is wrong.

Man I'm supposed to be talking about Leon but I keep getting distracred by Karno in this one... I mean...

Pffft 😂

This whole Leon and Karno interaction is rather sweet actually.

Where was I? Oh yes, Leon helps MC feel better in typical Leon fashion.

It's kinda amusing how he doesn't like anyone else being responsible for her mood either. Like how dare someone cause something that mean she's unhappy in his presence. 😆

One interesting character bit I do want to mention though is when MC says that a Wishes God can't punish someone, Leon's retort is he'd get 'Ichthys or someone' to do it for him...

Now then, yeah he added or someone to it, but why did he specifically choose to single out Ichthys? I guess because at this point he's far calmer he's just hinting to MC that he isn't being serious?

Anyway, I'm afraid I think I'm more enamoured with the Leon and Karno interacrions with this more so than the stuff with MC. 😅

SCORPIO

Aww poor Scorpio. He wants to help but also doesn't want to do the wrong thing.

Also the sheer audacity of the King in this one, especially considering what he's like in Scorpio's path. Grrr....

The King's part in this one raises all sorts of questions actually, like why was he talking to Teo and Ikky to find out about this and why is it Dui that has to tell Scorpio the King wants to see him?

Why am I asking these questions? The answer is as obvious as it always is: He's bored isn't he?

Still, it's nice to get just the softer side of Scorpio for the majority of the story for once.

ZYGLAVIS

Poor Zig. He asks MC immediately what's wrong because he's straight and to the point but as per usual his work commitments are an issue.

He's so upset with himself for not listening straight away.

Plus really he's an utter sweetheart here. Especially the way in which he utilises his shadow.

Oh sweet protective Zyglavis 🥰

Although....

Poor Zyglaivs' internal battles with himself. No wonder his Promise of Infinity story turns out the way it does.