#so anyway it was very frustrating. which is why i am posting it now

[filmnoirsbian]

i didn't realize sorry can you do an image description then? no need to be so rude btw the least you could do is help us visually impaired folks

I recommend reading the article linked in the post

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Four

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, oral (fem rec), unprotected piv, dirty talk??, unedited/unbeta’d)

word count: 4.3k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Alright, everybody. Please remember to fill out your reading log during the break,” you talked over a room full of distracted tweens excited for the upcoming Spring Break. “Am I talking to air?”

“I hear you,” Sarah answered your question as she approached your desk, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “And I wanted to apologize for last Friday. I was having a bad day and Jessie was making a big deal about me leaving the sleepover—“

“Sarah, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize,” you assured with a kind smile. “Have you talked to Jessie?”

“Yeah, dad took me over to her house on Sunday night and we talked it out. I guess she was offended by me leaving, but I explained to her that I just get anxious sometimes and can’t—“ She sighed. “It just feels better being at home with my dad. I don’t have to try to be funny or cool or whatever.”

You smiled at the tenderness of Joel and Sarah’s bond.

“But anyways,” she continued. “My dad wanted me to ask if you were busy tonight—he still hasn’t gotten a new cellphone which, if you’re wondering, is why he’s having me act as the messenger.”

“Isn’t he coming to pick you up today?”

“No, him and Uncle Tommy are in San Antonio meeting with a developer or something like that,” she informed. “My grandma is picking me up.”

“Oh, well, you can tell your dad I’m free like always,” you chuckled and tried not to think about the fact that as today’s parking lot attendee, you’d have to come face to face with the mother of the man you’d been casually seeing for three weeks now. “Oh, and tell him he needs to get a new phone so you don’t have to play messenger anymore.”

“Trust me, we’ll probably be waiting years until he finally breaks down and gets himself one.” The two of you shared a laugh.

“In that case—“ You jotted your landline and cellphone number on a post-it note. “Here.”

“Miss? My mom wanted me to let you know that I won’t be doing any of my reading logs this week,” another student approached your desk and very sassily delivered his news. You chuckled out a scoff and fixed your attention on him while Sarah went back to her desk.

“Okay, Michael, why won’t you be doing your reading logs?” You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for his response.

“Because it’s Spring Break,” he defended.

“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I didn’t assign any homework. All you need to do is keep reading at least a chapter a day of your book—“

“I don’t want to read my book. That’s basically homework.”

You gave him an incredulous look as you tried to gather what little patience remained in you after a long year of teaching fifth graders.

“No, Michael. Homework is what Mrs. Hill gave her students—a packet a day. What I’m asking if you is to do what you’re already supposed to be doing—reading a chapter a day of whatever book you want. That’s not homework, that’s just an activity.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.” He remained firm, mimicking your stance by crossing his arms over his chest.

The bell ringing interrupted whatever onslaught of frustration you were just about to bestow upon him, his smug smirk boiling your blood as he turned and shuffled out of class.

“Have a good break,” you called out to the rest of your students as they shuffled out of the classroom in a single file line.

“Hey,” Joel sighed out his greeting as he entered his mother and father’s ranch home on the outskirts of Austin. Sarah was sat in the living room on the floral loveseat covered in plastic while her grandfather, Paul, sat in his rocking chair fast asleep.

“How did it go?” Sarah offered him a smile as he rounded the corner of the loveseat to plop down beside her.

“Went alright,” he replied. “Got a good chunk of jobs lined up for me and the guys, so we’ll be good on work ‘til the end of the year.”

“That’s good!” She beamed, bringing a hesitant smile to her father’s face. Joel never liked to celebrate his successes—something he likely learned from his father. “Oh,” she tapped his arm as she remembered your conversation from earlier, quickly informing him about your lack of plans for tonight. “She also gave me her number to give to you.”

Joel watched as Sarah fished the note out of her pocket before handing over the crumpled up piece of paper.

“You think she’s home yet?” Joel checked his watch.

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “But grandma was talking about all of us going out for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, was she?” Joel looked disappointed by the sudden emergence of plans when he spent all day hoping that tonight would be spent just with you.

“Joel?” Mary, Joel’s mother, came walking down the stairs with a smile. “Bout time you came to see us.”

“I’m busy with the new company, ma, you know that,” he argued as he stood up to greet her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Busy with the company or with your new lady friend?” she teased with a grin. Joel whipped his eyes over to his daughter who already held her hands up in defense.

“My bad.”

Joel chuckled out a scoff before turning back to his mother. “It’s new.”

“And? That’s all you gotta say about her?”

“To you. For now.” Joel followed her into the kitchen, Sarah trailing shortly behind.

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Hunt her down and force her to look at your baby book?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he retorted with a mischievous smile.

“Joel Miller, I swear if you do not give me at least a summary of this woman—“

“Alright, alright,” Joel sighed and looked to Sarah who was beaming with amusement. “She’s Sarah’s teacher. We met at a parent/teacher conference. She’s…nice.”

“Nice?” Both women repeated the descriptor as if it was an insult.

“Dad, you’re basically in love. I’m sure you can find a better word than nice,” Sarah reasoned.

“She is nice. Everything else is private,” he argued.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out at dinner tonight,” his mother shrugged with a smirk. Joel turned wild in the eyes and shook his head.

“No, no, no. She ain’t—y’all aren’t—no.”

Sarah laughed at her dad’s fluster and looped her arm around his waist hug him. “It’ll be okay, pops. Just breathe.”

“Oh, to hell with that,” Joel shook his head again, turning to his mother. “I haven’t even taken her out for a real dinner yet, ma. I’m not invitin’ her out to deal with y’all.”

“Deal with? Son, we are as civilized as anybody else—“

“Ma, you got a plunger? I clogged the damn toilet!” Tommy shouted from upstairs and Joel gestured in his direction as though to prove his point.

“Well not here. We’re in the comfort of our own home,” she defended as she made her way out of the kitchen to help her son. “She’s comin’ tonight! Better go on and call her up.”

“Christ,” he sighed and stomped over to the landline, his scowl fixed on Sarah as he dialed the number. “If she never speaks to us again, it’s on you.”

“She’ll love us.”

Although it wasn’t what you were expecting for the night, Joel’s call to invite you out to dinner with his family was impossible to decline just due to how much you missed him. Even if you turned into a ball of nerves every time you had to meet “the parents”, it was worth it just to be in the same room with him, especially after the day you had.

At seven, Joel, Sarah, and Tommy came to pick you up, but for once it was you running late. You invited them inside to wait while you finished getting ready, handing Sarah the TV remote and watching as her and Tommy instantly started bickering over what to watch while Joel followed you into your bedroom.

“How is this the first time I’ve ever been in your room?” He found a seat on the foot of your bed while you sat at your vanity, finishing up on taming your hair.

“Because I’m old fashioned,” you turned back to give him a wink. “But also because I can’t seem to get you alone long enough to give you a proper tour.”

“I know,” he sighed and walked over to you, standing behind you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, the warmth and softness of his lips curing something that had been aching inside of you since the last time he kissed you. “I made a deal with my mom. She watches Sarah this weekend, and I suck it up and allow you to meet my chaotic family.”

“Mm, so I get you all weekend is what you’re saying?” You smirked at him through the mirror.

“All. Damn. Weekend.” He kissed your neck as a promise, your eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his proximity. “No interruptions. Just me and you.”

“S-sounds good,” you stuttered through your haze of lust and Joel smiled against your skin, seemingly amused by his effect on you.

“You got chills,” he rasped, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “That all me?”

“Just wait until you see what else you do to me,” you purred back, earning a groan of desperation.

“You two done yet?” Tommy called out from the living room. “We got places to be.”

“Save that thought for after dinner,” Joel mumbled against your cheek as he gave you one more kiss.

Five or so minutes later and you were on your way to the restaurant, nerves now replacing the butterflies you felt in your stomach as you thought about what his parents would be like. If they were anything like Tommy, Sarah, and Joel, you had nothing to worry about, but it was the uncertainty that drove you mad.

“You alright?” Joel stayed back with you as you pretended to have forgotten something in the truck, Tommy and Sarah heading into the restaurant to meet up with Joel’s parents.

“Just nervous,” you shrugged with a soft smile. “Anything I should avoid bringing up?”

“Politics. My dad’s a big Republican, so,” he winced. “But my mom is about as liberal as they come, so at least there’s that.”

“So I should stick to talking to your mom, then,” you joked.

“Come on,” he nudged his head towards the restaurant and laced his fingers with yours. “I’ll be right there next to ya, and as soon as we’re done with dinner it’ll be just us all weekend.”

You took a deep breath of courage and gave him a cheeky but bashful smile, bringing a similar one to his own face.

“God, I just can’t help myself—“ Joel cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet him as he leaned in for a surprising kiss, your hand finding purchase on his wrist to ground yourself.

“Mm,” you hummed as you pulled away from him earlier than he would’ve liked. “Let’s not stall anymore. Don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence.”

“She knows me well enough to know I’m the bad influence, but alright,” he tugged you off towards the restaurant with your hand in his.

As the hostess guided you through the busy dining room, you leaned further into Joel. He didn’t seem to mind the clinginess, his hand letting go of yours so that he could slide an arm around your waist.

“There y’all are!” A stout woman you presumed to be Joel’s mother stood up from the table where the rest of the Millers were seated, a big, dimpled grin on her face that resembled Joel’s.

“Ma,” Joel introduced the two of you by name, his eyes fixed on you as you shook her hand and allowed her to seat you beside her rather than next to Joel like you’d hoped. You gave Joel a nervous look from across the table as he sat himself directly across from you beside his father.

“It is so nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Mary fixed her attention on you. “Joel’s been pretty tight lipped about ya, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”

“Well,” you chuckled nervously, but Joel’s reassuring eyes from across the table helped calm the frenzy of anxiety coursing through your veins. “I’m a teacher, have been for a few years now but this is my second year in Austin.”

You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mary, her warm smile and sense of humor similar to that of her children and granddaughter. You told her where you grew up, where you’d been before coming to Austin, about what you liked to do in your free time, but mostly you told her the story of how you and Joel came to be.

Across the table, his father continued to remain stern and silent, only mumbling to his boys or to Sarah every now and again to remind them to use their manners. He seemed like a tough egg to crack, and while you were up for the challenge eventually, earning his respect today seemed unlikely.

“Joel, you ever tell her about your singin’?” Tommy spoke up from down the table, his question bringing a blush to Joel’s face.

“Yeah, I mentioned it.” He looked over to you and cracked the most subtle of smirks, no doubt remembering what occurred shortly after.

“Well, you gonna sing for her?” Mary asked with mischief in her tone, bringing an amused smile to your face.

“Not here,” he sassed, tilting his head at her mockingly.

“Why not here?” You prodded with a smirk, your foot finding his calf beneath the table. Joel gave you a chuckle and shook his head. “Oh, come on. Please?”

“Ya know, I pride myself on my ability to not cave into peer pressure,” he retorted with a quirked eyebrow, daring you to challenge him. You bit your lip and looked down at your plate, too flustered by everything him to look him in the eyes—especially given the current company.

“So, Sarah, how are you likin’ the whole dad datin’ your teacher thing?” Tommy asked, and the question earned the attention of the entire table.

“I don’t mind it,” she shrugged. “Maybe I would if it was Mrs. Clarkson from last year.”

“God,” Joel shook his head at the mere idea. “That woman terrified me and I’m a grown man.”

“Oh,” Sarah called your name. “Did you tell dad about Michael?”

“Michael? Who’s…uh, who’s Michael?” Joel’s jealousy was as clear as day, bringing amused grins to almost everyone’s faces aside from the ever stoic Mr. Miller.

“Michael is my student,” you clarified and eased his concern. “A shitty student at that.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, he’s—well, I guess I probably shouldn’t be saying this around you, Sarah.”

“I promise I won’t talk about it,” she replied earnestly and you easily caved.

“He is just the absolute worst. And his parents are even shittier,” you lamented with a laugh. “Today he came up to me while Sarah and I were talking at the end of class, and flat out told me that he wasn’t going to be doing the reading log during the break because his mom said so.”

“Why doesn’t he just fake it like everybody else?” Tommy chimed in but quickly received an elbow from his niece.

“I don’t fake my reading logs,” she corrected.

“Yeah…right.” He gave her a sarcastic nod and turned back to you. “I’m just speaking from experience. I never did any of that shit and I turned out…well, I turned out decent.”

“Yeah. Maybe I am being too demanding,” you shrugged, turning back to your plate.

“No,” Joel was quick to interject. “Don’t listen to Tommy—he couldn’t even get into community college. You’re the one who went to school for six years to do this. You know what you’re doin’, that kid’s just a prick.”

You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little bit as he stood up for you, his foot pressed to yours beneath the table acting as a sort of promise that he’d always be here to do this—to remind you of your worth.

“Thank you,” you mouthed just to him. “Anyways, it’s his loss—and yours too, Tommy. Reading is fun.”

Tommy mimicked your smile and chuckled. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“Alright, don’t give your grandma a hard time,” Joel ordered Sarah as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway outside your house.

You watched the scene from the doorway, smiling at the way he swayed her and kissed the top of her head. If only all little girls could grow up with a father like Joel—not flawless, but as close to it as a man could get. There was no denying his love for her and vice versa, and the fact that you were being let into this beautiful family felt like nothing less than an honor.

“Alright, go on,” he ruffled the top of her hair with a playful grin. “I love ya, and I’ll see you Sunday night, alright?”

“Love you too,” she gave him one more hug before turning to you standing up the walkway. With a wave, she wished you goodbye as well, your smile widening at the gesture. “See you!”

“See ya, Sarah!”

Joel met you by the front door and watched Tommy and Sarah pull out of your driveway before he turned to you with an anticipatory grin.

“Well, just us now,” he husked, playfulness thick in his southern drawl.

“Whatever will we do?” you teased, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer.

Joel cradled your cheek and jaw with both hands as he leaned down to kiss you, both of you still wearing your grins through it. Walking you backwards into the house, you giggled into his mouth as you nearly stumbled over before he caught you.

“Clumsy,” he accused in a rasp.

“Your fault,” you countered and he laughed against you.

Joel’s hands traveled to your hips to keep you flush against him as he kicked the front door shut, your smiles fading as the kiss deepened into something so filthy even the humor of the almost-fall couldn’t penetrate it.

“God,” he groaned against your lips as he continued walking you through the living room to your bedroom. “I want you so bad, baby girl. Fuck.”

“Remember what we were talking about earlier?” you purred against his jaw as your kisses trailed down to his neck, Joel’s body pinning you against your open bedroom door. He hummed against you in confirmation and you smiled, taking one of his hands off your waist to guide it beneath the linen of your dress, his breath ragged as his fingertip grazed over your thighs until they reached the soaked lace of your panties. “This is what you do to me, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin—baby, I need you,” he whimpered and sunk to the floor in front of you, his dark and dreamy eyes peering up at you for permission as he lifted the hem of your dress up. “Can I taste you?”

“God, you never have to ask,” you moaned back, taking the fabric bunched in his hands and holding it for him. Joel’s eyes dropped from yours down to the image right in front of him, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip at the sight of your white lace thong.

“You’re gonna make me lose my mind, baby,” he groaned again, his hands now running up and down the outside of your thighs.

The anticipation could have killed you, your chest heaving and skin prickling with chills from the simple sensation of his breath fanning over the wet spot on your panties, the lust in his eyes. Combing your fingers through his hair, you attempted to silently urge him on and he seemed to pick up on it, his hands sliding back up to your hips to hook into the tiny band of your underwear and slip them down your legs until they were kicked off.

“Baby,” he cooed as you draped one of your knees over his broad shoulders to open yourself up to him, his mouth watering at the sight. “I’m never gonna wanna do anythin’ else but stay right—“ He placed a kiss to your mound and your entire body jerked. “Here.”

His tongue swiped through your folds and you melted against the door behind you, your fingers gripping his hair now as you struggled to stay upright. Joel practically growled at your taste, his hands gripping your thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he tensed his tongue to circle your swollen bud until your arousal started to drip down your thighs. “That’s so good.”

Your praise earned you another growl, his tongue now flicking and circling, lapping and sucking against you until your thighs were shaking from the pressure building in your lower stomach.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.” He sucked your clit and made you cry out his name. “Yeah, just like that. Keep sayin’ my name, baby. Let everyone know.”

“Joel, fuck!” Your orgasm was imminent, the tingling in your thighs that traveled down to your toes and back up your spine fogging any sense of coherency you may have once had in his presence. “I—fuck, I—“

“I know, baby. Can taste it.” He shook his head and flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes meeting with yours. You wanted to cry, but the pleasure you were feeling was too consuming. The only thing you could do as Joel sucked your now throbbing bud into his mouth was to cry out his name like a prayer—some sort of wicked salvation that beat out any other holier counterpart. “Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue. Wanna taste it…every fuckin’ drop—“

“Fuck!” You crumpled to the ground, your back sliding against the door until you were kneeling with him on the floor, your body shuddering as you rode out the waves of your euphoria.

Joel was quick to act, guiding you down onto your back while you were still lost in bliss. He kissed your face as if you were his most prized possession, his hands worshipping the curves of your still-clothed body.

“Need you, baby,” he whispered against your jaw as he placed a love bite there, your head nodding to give him consent to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you after that mind blowing climax he just gave you.

You only heard the clinking of his belt buckle before feeling his cock stretch you open, a choked cry slipping from your lips in time with Joel’s wanton groan. You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the place you were joined, delighting in the fact that neither of you were undressed, the neediness of the moment turning you both feral.

“God damn,” he groaned and let his head hang as he stilled himself deep inside of you after only a few thrusts. “About to embarrass myself. You feel too fuckin’ good, baby.”

“Don’t worry about lasting long,” you stroked his beard. “I just wanna feel you.”

“God, I—” He choked on his words and leaned over your body, propping himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his jean-clad ass to urge him on, desperate to feel him spill inside of you.

“Want you to cum for me,” you moaned, pressing kisses into the side of his face as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum inside me—“

“Fuck,” he shouted as his cock thrust into you faster and deeper, your wetness squelching around him and filling the room along with both of your ragged moans. “I’m gonna—fuck, baby. You sure?”

“I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” you promised. Joel lifted his head to look into your eyes, his face scrunched up in something akin to agony but you were sure it couldn’t have been further from it.

“Gonna fill you up, beautiful,” he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. “Gonna have you dripping for me.”

“Yes!” His cock was hitting something inside of you that was making you see stars, your mind going back to that pleasure-dumb state you’d just been lost in, and before you had time to warn him, your walls fluttered in time with his cock spilling inside of you. “I’m coming, Joel, fuck!”

“Me too, baby,” he choked out through a string of profanity and moans. “Fuck, so fuckin’—you’re perfect.”

The two of you stayed there for a while, both of you turned into puddles of post-climactic bliss as you laid in each other’s arms. Joel hissed as he pulled out and rolled over onto the carpet beside you, both of you turning your heads to look at each other with wide, almost childlike grins.

“Be my girlfriend?” Joel choked out, nerves thick in his shaky voice. You laid there speechless for a moment, unsure of how to tell him that ever since you met him you’d been dreaming of the day those words would leave his lips. So, you kept it simple, a smile gracing your face as you reached over to hold his face.

“I would love to.”

[cheqorb]

LOVE STRIKES ft. isagi, shidou, kaiser

a change in your rival's demeanour is be nothing serious, i mean, everyone gets tired of being competitive all the time. so, the look of longing in their eyes, the comments that seem more flirtatious than threatening, should be fine, right?

NOTES: perhaps i am, in fact, isagi’s #1 fan because he’s going to show up in basically every single blue lock post i make so get used to him LMAOOO. writing kaiser’s one made me feel something for him. ew. also i have no clue on how to write some of these characters so for the 2518616th time in a row, please excuse the fact that they are most definitely ooc.

making an enemy out of ISAGI is surprisingly straightforward, considering his more laid-back personality compared to everyone else at least. simply just be a bit of a diva (aka, just become kaiser 2.0), confidently brag about how much better you are than him and he’s a bit hopeless, isn’t he? it’s won’t be long before he begins to get pretty irritable around you, feeling the urge to curse you out anytime you speak.

it’s not the ego he minds, really, but you’re just so…you.

with a smirk, you peer over his shoulder as he struggles to catch his breath in practice. "is that all you've got? whatever happened to the genius on the pitch?" you taunt, wearing the smug expression he oh-so-despises. your shit-eating grin only widens at the sight of his furrowed brows and clenched teeth that betray his frustration, he’s so predictable, it’s almost sad! ‘this is too easy,’ you think.

which is why, he would describe it as humiliating as he realises he's starting to feel something beyond mere dislike towards you.

the discomfort between the two of you only worsens as he grows awkwardly silent at your blatant insults or even the mere mention of his name within earshot. seriously, is he just ignoring you? and when you condescendingly pat his head, calling him a sorry excuse of a striker, he just…stands there. and his cheeks are tinted red..? well, you suppose he could’ve just finished practice so he’s red ‘cause of exhaustion, yeah, that must be it. (cue everyone visibly shaking their heads and sighing very loudly.)

before your fingertips even make contact with his head, isagi already knows it's you standing beside him.

you tut, "still not giving up, huh? just how much do you enjoy losing anyway..." you pause. he doesn't swat your hand away or offer a retort like he would have a few weeks prior to today. you don’t know what’s changed, and this one-sided dynamic has become so boring that you begin to wonder if he's purposefully trying to embarrass you by ignoring you. but then, much to your horror, he absentmindedly responds with, “right. yeah.”

with your hand still resting on his hair, you don’t even notice how he unconsciously leans into your touch while you’re still processing what just happened in your mind. how sneaky!

now this one’s unfathomably easy. SHIDOU is someone who thrives on stirring up trouble; it can be with anything unlucky enough to catch his attention, be it a stranger bumping into him or even a dog walking off its leash. though, to capture his interest and earn his respect in earnest, you need to demonstrate the ability to ‘explode’ on the field but also able to play by his ‘rules’. but to truly kick off his fascination with you (pun intended), maintaining a nonchalant demeanor/keeping a distance between you two also helps. in my opinion, he seems like he’d be drawn to people who present themselves to be on the more mysterious side.

he approaches with his trademark flamboyance, his voice booming as he makes his way across the pitch. "hey, you! that was some seriously impressive play out there!" he declares, "i mean, seriously, those moves were—” he goes off on a tangent about cells, explosions…“thanks,” you say with a neutral expression on your face, even after he tried to jump on you??? almost broke your nose if you didn’t dodge in time.

his personality is both captivating yet intimidating, and you find yourself instinctively retreating if he gets too close. even if he is one of the few players who willingly praises you outright. but shidou isn't deterred by your reaction; if anything, it only fuels his excitement. anyways in terms of romance, he operates on a vastly different wavelength from the conventional views on love. he doesn't recognise feelings of being flustered or the desire to shower someone with tender care and attention.

while shidou may experience a certain pull towards you, it’s driven by instinct rather than conscious understanding, he remains largely oblivious to the complexities of his emotions. unless you’re exceptionally perceptive or are somehow able to understand his underlying motives, you're likely to interpret his actions as a signal to maintain a safe distance.

“you’re always so hard to pin down, you know that?” his voice calls out, watching as you continue on your way, seemingly unfazed by his presence. he debates on whether or not to smash your face into the ground but then, he pauses.

despite everything, there’s something undeniably exhilarating about being around you. a sense of freedom, a release from the constraints of his existence. being with you makes him happy. it’s a thought that prompts him to think how nice it’d be if you felt the same way about him…huh. oh well. even if you don’t, it won’t stop him from hanging out with you.

for KAISER, it's also decently easy. either defeat him on the soccer field or simply refuse to conform to his philosophy of everyone revolving around him; just don’t be a pushover. he’ll gladly take any opportunity to crush someone whose ego far outweighs their abilities, but when confronted by someone with the skills to match their confidence? he becomes both intrigued and slightly irked.

especially if they’re someone who can’t stand him, which to be fair, isn’t all that difficult.

as you catch sight of a familiar head of blonde hair fading into blue entering through the doorway, you internally groan. he saunters over, flashing his signature smirk. "well, if it isn't my most favourite jester," he drawls, his tone dripping with arrogance. "you're looking rather defeated today. are you finally coming to term with the fact that you'll never match my level?"

as time passes however, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to your presence, even noticing the small details about you. the way your eyes lit up when you seemed to figure something out, the subtle quirks that made you, you. eventually, the realisation that his actions were out of love dawns on him. he’ll certainly try to deny it, brushing off the unfamiliar feelings as mere annoyance or frustration, but as he catches himself stealing glances in your direction and seeking out opportunities to be near you, he can’t help but admit defeat.

michael kaiser, the once arrogant and self-assured soccer prodigy, had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with you.

he found himself wanting to impress you, to make you smile, to be the best version of himself for you. and, what began as subtle glances and fleeting touches soon evolved into more obvious displays of affection.

he finds excuses to brush against you or in close proximity of you, his hand lingering a fraction longer when shaking yours or his fingers grazing yours when passing objects. kaiser also seems to be fond of leaning close towards you nowadays, his face mere inches from yours as if testing the boundaries of your rivalry with eachother. additionally, your pet name has been upgraded from jester to ‘liebling’…whatever that even means. must be weird if it makes his teammates raise a brow every time he says it.

his boldness never fails to catch you off guard, but his next words are something you truly don’t expect. "i love you."

[niningtori]

to know him is to love him, and i do | chapter one: do you not love me? like at all?

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you

summary: you love beomgyu more than anything. you just wish he loved you, too. or you finally break up with beomgyu and move on, but as for him? maybe he's starting to realize too little too late.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?)

word count: 2.1k

notes: hi friends! ... r u mad at me? be honest (*´ｪ｀*) i'm sorry i've been gone for so long, but i've had the worst writer's block with my other story. i decided to just post this because i couldn't get the idea of toxic!beomgyu out of my head. don't worry, he will suffer. anyway, i hope you like it!! if not, please don't hurt my feelings i beg.

"i told you it was nothing. why are you freaking out?"

"she was fucking you with her eyes, beomgyu!" you exclaim in frustration.

"and that's my fault how?"

"it's not your fault, but i'm sick of you entertaining women, let alone your actual fucking ex, while i'm standing right next to you!" his ex is just another fish in the barrel, or at least that's what he says, but the thought that they were intimate together at one point still makes you feel sick. truthfully, your boyfriend is handsome, so you've spent the better part of the past 10 months warding off the women who circle him like vultures. you wouldn't mind as much as you do if he seemed at all interested in helping you do so, especially when faced with his ex that you suspect he still has feelings for, but he does not. quite the opposite, actually. it's like he thrives off of the attention and god it hurts.

"i'm not entertaining anybody. i told her i have a girlfriend now," he, well, you would say argues, but it's said so nonchalantly it doesn't warrant the term.

"a girlfriend you proceeded to ignore while she hung off of your shoulders and laughed all night! i just don't understand how you don't understand how much it hurts my feelings. i'm a human too! how would you feel if my ex, who was very clearly interested in me, hung around me right in front of you?" and it's like you're explaining empathy to a child.

"me? i wouldn't give a fuck because it's not that serious," he replies with a slightly irritated shake of his head.

it's always like this. always. you're always the one who cares more between the two of you. you were the one who asked him out in the first place. you were the one who initiated your first kiss. your first fight. hell, even your first reconciliation. you're not stupid, you know he doesn't feel quite the same way you do, but he has to feel something, right? otherwise, why would he say yes to you when he's rejected so many other women? your brain hurts trying to wrap your head around it all.

"you're missing the point! if you were me, you would—" you begin frustratedly, but you cut yourself off. "you know what? i don't even have the energy to explain this to you. i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" you all but shriek.

"you don't have to do shit, just leave if you're that fucking unhappy," he spits out angrily, which is the first real emotion — besides mild annoyance — you've seen out of him this entire conversation. he gets impatient when you're like this, which usually results in you relenting, but not tonight. you're far too hurt to let go so easily.

"you're right! i am unhappy! i just — why don't you care that i'm unhappy? what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" you have a brave face on but you can feel your eyes getting hot and your voice trembling ever so slightly.

"you could try not being so damn needy, maybe that'd help."

your eyes redden even further and your lips unintentionally twist themselves into a sour frown. you hate it when he calls you needy because you do need a lot from him, it feels like. his time. his care. his attention and affection. yet you never seem to get it.

"do you not love me? like at all?" you ask. all of the venom in your tone has been sucked out mercilessly and you sound more helpless than angry.

"do you not realize how fucking crazy you sound?" he scoffs as if he can't fathom why you'd be upset. as if he's not watching you break down in real time.

"why won't you give me a straight answer?" you question, voice softer than it was before.

he does nothing but scowl and you know beomgyu well enough to know that he's avoiding your question. that's enough of an answer as it stands, really. he doesn't care. never has. probably never will.

"then why'd you even say yes to dating me?" you truly don't understand. you thought you were different. you thought he saw something in you he didn't see in his harem of other suitors, and trust that there were many.

"i dunno. i was just bored, i guess," he answers with a shrug and your world as you know it collapses. the man you love sees you as nothing more than a way to kill time. he's picking you up right now just to toss you away when the next shiny toy presents itself. and so far, you've let him drag you around because you love him. that's how much you love him. but looking at him now, at how unbothered he is, you wonder if you've even got anything left to give.

"i really do love you," you manage to squeeze out with a bitter smile. your poor heart is on display for the naked eye to see and it seems like he really couldn't care less, but that won't stop you from asking. "does that mean anything at all to you?"

"well, i'm sorry you feel that way," he says simply, "but that's not my fucking problem."

your heart sinks to your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. in this moment, as you watch the love of your life dismiss you like you're a fucking dog begging for scraps of food, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity as you realize he doesn't love you. he doesn't even like you. he probably hates you, actually. like a mental montage, every moment in which he showed you that exact sentiment plays all at once in your head.

all those times you let him choose everything from movies to dinner because the idea of a compromise was inconceivable. all of those occasions, special and otherwise, where you were supposed to go out on a date, but he'd bail without a word and you'd forgive him with no apology. when you'd offer him your share of dessert because he ate all of his and you knew he wanted more, and he'd take it without so much as a thank you. how you'd sit and listen to him tell stories about how amazing his friends were, but he'd never even ask about your day. when those same friends would jokingly call you the perfect girlfriend and you thought it was an indication of how good your relationship was, but in reality, it was a way to tease him because the thought of actually being with you was so abhorrent and ridiculous that it must be a joke. all those times you told him you loved him and he'd just smile and kiss you deeper. memories like these flood your brain with a vengeance so cruel it makes your head ache, and in a way, you realize it's ridiculous to be surprised when there was so much proof of his feelings in the first place.

"oh. okay," you say with what you hope is a soft and unbothered laugh, but comes out more as a choked one. "i guess there's nothing left to say. i'll get my shit and go."

you hesitate for a few excruciatingly awkward moments before collecting yourself enough to start gathering your things, which are scattered haphazardly around his apartment from his bedroom to his bathroom. it's like a walk of shame, almost, and you feel even shittier when he plops down on the couch with a long suffering sigh as he begins to massage the bridge of his nose. you feel so small in this moment — like a petulant child who just got done throwing an unsuccessful tantrum — and you're now soaking in the sobering aftermath and sitting with the thought that he just watched you have a meltdown like he was watching a monkey putting on a show. how much more is he going to humiliate you? enough is enough, you think, so before you can actually finish collecting all of your belongings, you're scurrying out of the apartment. before you go, you glance back at him one last time. "beomgyu?" you ask tentatively, tears clouding your eyes.

"yeah?" he replies with a sigh. this is it, you think.

"i don't want to see you ever again," you say firmly. before he can reply, if he ever intended to in the first place, you slam the door.

-

there's a lot to love about beomgyu. for one, he's handsome, which is obvious, but he has a certain allure you could never help but be drawn in by. he's always been a charming man, but even more so when he's talking to a woman he's interested in. as interested as he could be, that is. he's funny and comically pompous when he wants to be, but still somehow down to earth despite it all.

he's been described as a mood-maker, and while he grew to resent that term, you thought it was at least partially true, if only in the context of your relationship. when he's sad, you're devastated. when he's happy, you're over the fucking moon. his feelings are your whole world. or were, you guess, since all that's over now.

it wasn't all bad all the time, you think. there were times where you thought he really might reciprocate even a fraction of what you felt for him, and most of the time, that was enough. you could work with that. love looks different for everyone, you would reason. maybe he just had a funny way of showing it.

there were days where you'd laugh together and end the night lying in each other's arms while you'd cradle him like he was the most precious thing in the whole world because, to you, he really was. he was normally so boisterous when with his friends, but while he would never admit it to anyone else, he'd tell you about some of his insecurities while you gently combed your fingers through his long, silky hair. he'd speak of regrets and longing for people to take him more seriously. he'd never say it, but he wanted people to see you like you saw him. the real him. you'd let him cry while your hands cupped his cheeks and you'd shush him while he fiddled mindlessly with your hair like a child. you'd kiss his the tip of his reddened nose until he laughed instead of cried. times like those, you'd really think you were someone special to him. but now you realize you were wrong. you were just an outlet for him, and anyone willing to be an emotional dumping ground would do the trick too.

after a few weeks of moping, your sadness has begun to morph into anger and resentment. you spent nearly a year of your life trying to make an emotionally stunted man care about you, and that's not even counting the years of pining over him before you finally worked up the courage to ask him out. it was difficult to see it in the moment, but after being away from him for so long, it's crystal clear that he was honestly just an asshole who didn't really like you. nothing more, nothing less. maybe he'd find someone to change for someday, maybe he'd even work things out with his ex, but for whatever reason, you weren't her. that's just the way it goes, you guess. what really bothers you are the "what if's" of the situation. what if you were prettier, or smarter, or kinder. would he have seen you for who you really are? would he have grown to appreciate you if you had given him more to appreciate?

either way, there's no use crying over spilled milk now. you won't be going back to him any time soon and he certainly won't come crawling back to you. you'll continue to think of him less and less until your time together fades into a distant (and unpleasant) memory. you smile at the thought.

[lains-reality]

Once a young woman came to Hafiz and said, “What is the sign of someone knowing God?” And Hafiz became very quiet and stood in silence for nearly a minute. Lovingly looking deep into the young woman's eyes, he then softly spoke: “My dear, they have dropped the knife. The person who knows God has dropped the cruel knife so often used upon their tender self and others.”[source]

please give yourself the grace of forgetting, of being sad, of failing, of fearing. you are allowed to. all is Self. you are okay now and here.

allow yourself to look at the insecurities, shame, guilt and fears.

give yourself the chance to respond, not react.

let vanessa be. vanessa is just a person like anyone else. thinks they are born and will die. every vanessa, no matter how well off they are, is scared shitless. but you treat your vanessa so badly.

you hate it. you want it gone. you see the body and mind as a cage without a key. it hurts. you curse it and nothing changes. you try to convince it and nothing changes. you curse it more.

It is not a matter of enduring, it is a matter of you being so crude to Vanessa, and expecting so much of her when she has no power. Do you feel the same way about the homeless man on the street corner? Do you constantly chastise him in your head, blame him for his circumstances? Even if you are the kind of person to judge based on appearances, you do for a moment and move on with your life. That's because you never thought he was you so how could you feel pain on his behalf? You may do the opposite and feel bad for his situation for a bit, but you still leave the matter alone as he's none of your business and you have your own things to worry about. - post source

vanessa is doing the best it can. it sings, dances, loves! it bleeds, it shudders, it hurts. all is the wide expression of Self.

and yet you hide from the pain, from the hurt, from the thoughts, the feelings. this is not the fullness of Self.

forgive yourself. let go of the shame and guilt. stop shaming vanessa for exsiting just like any other person in the street. stop carrying all responsibilities of the world. it's already taken care of.

you breathe with no help, you shit with no help, you eat with no help, you sleep with no help. and even if you do need help, the inability to do so, happens without your help. your amazon package comes through, your sibling grows 2 cm, the sun rises and falls, the seasons pass by. all by itself. what's orchestrating it all? Self. what other reason have we given ourself the world, other than out of love?

Leave poor Vanessa alone and stop assigning her the responsibility and accountability of everything that the dream shows. The entire dream is all an expression of the Infinite Being, not hers (the ego) which she is just one more creation of. And it doesn't have to be your (the Self's/I AM's) dream anymore when you stop identifying with it. - post source

its already out of vanessa's hands. vanessa can't do anything. let that be a celebration: all is taken care of. unconditonally.

"why is it all taken care of?"

"why not!"

"but why should *i* get the world?"

"why not?"

"but-"

its already all here for you. its already as it is. what is vanessa gonna do to change the infinte? why would the infinite need changing anyway?

Treat it with compassion, stop bullying it, it's not its fault you're not where you should be. You think he's in the way so you get mad, you get frustrated it's not following instructions or refuses to step aside. But the ego is not the problem, nor in the way. Your attitude toward it is the problem. Let it be, it doesn't know any better! - post source

give yourself the permission to exist as you are. give yourself permission to be as you are, right now. start asking 'did i give permission for this?' you'll find how much stuff is not even your choice. as ada said its just tolerance and endurance of the forced vanessa.

now you realise you don't have to be a forced vanessa. so you go completely the other direction and try to (forcefully) change the vanessa. you're still holding up standards, ideas & roles to yourself. the things that made you hate vanessa in the first place. just maybe, for this moment hold nothing. drop the knife.

“Stop trying to heal yourself, fix yourself, even awaken yourself. Let go of letting go. Stop trying to fast-forward the movie of your life. It gets so exhausting, doesn’t it, always trying to get there, chasing futures that never seem to arrive, living on second-hand promises. Instead, bow deeply to yourself as you actually are. Be here. Honour this present scene in the movie. Your pain, your sorrow, your doubts, your deepest longings, your fearful thoughts, are not mistakes, and they aren’t asking to be healed. They are asking to be held. Here, now, lightly, in the loving arms of present awareness…” — Jeff Foster

[kisses4hannii]

Skz and photocards 🤍

𖣴Two scenarios in one night ! Just to make up my lack of posting recently, been busy and I have an early morning tomorrow so I’m trying to go to bed early in hopes of sleeping well, but I can’t help but think of something to write about as I’m laying in bed so enjoy loveys. Felix and Innies are a bit short, but other than that I enjoyed writing this𖣴

♡︎Stray kids x reader (no gender specified)

♡︎Summary: they find out you’re buying their albums for the photocards

♡︎WORD COUNT: 943 roughly 117 words per member.

⚠︎︎READ WARNINGS: non :)

⚠︎︎Minors/ageless/blank blogs dni

⚠︎︎You are responsible for what you consume.

Chan:

I can see Chan coming back to the dorms early (for once) and finding you sat on the floor in front of the couch with many different 5-star albums spread across the floor. He would freeze at the entry way and watch at you tear open one of the envelopes and quickly flip the photocards around. Only when you huff in frustration would he come back and ask what was happening.

You would very quickly tell him how you were looking for this one specific photo card of Innie to add to your collection. Confused, processing what you told him he would just leave you to it. I think he would be so tired he didn’t want to interfere or out any thought into what you were doing and decided to ask about it the following morning.

Changbin:

Binnie was super confused when you put one of their albums in the cart while you two are out shopping. He’d ask why you’re putting a Maxident album into the cart when you already have all of them. Also confused when you told him you like to collect the photocards. “Why would you buy the album when I can just get them for you.. for free..”

“But that ruins the fun of it Binnie ☹️.” Wouldn’t argue with you no more he didn’t know you collected their photocards and he doesn’t know how many albums you have. He would shrug as you excitedly put another one in the cart muttering how you hoped to pull your bias this time. Now that caught his attention- “wait Y/nnie am I not your bias?”

Minho:

Minho knows you like to buy his albums. He knows that you collect the photocards. And he knows that just giving the cardboard ruins the fun and experience for you. Even though you tried to hide it from him, he quickly caught on to the growing binder you had, and the new 5-star photocard of him attached to your bag.

He would secretly buy a few of them for you everyone and then, hiding them in your ‘hidden’ stash of unopened ones that you will eventually open. So far you’ve not noticed the growing pile, but what started as 3 quickly turned into 6.. which turned into 9 and he’s very curious as to why and how you haven’t noticed yet.

Hyunjin:

Definitely the type to buy and open them with you. He’d be upset when he didn’t pull the member he wanted when he bought it. If you happened to pull said member he would try to convince you to trade with him even if he was going to give them to you anyways. Loved seeing how jealous you got when he pulled the one photocard you’ve been hunting for, for WEEKS. Especially since it was his very first time joining you with unboxing them. The dramatic gasp followed with a loud screech of his name. “Hyunjin! Oh my gosh! I cannot believe you pulled that one, I’ve wanted it for weeks!”

You’re practically begging him to trade any of the photocards you had for that one. He’d find it cute how much you got into it. He’d join you whenever he could, finding it amusing how much joy you got from opening his albums.

Han:

He’d also buy them and open them with you. Whenever he couldn’t be there to open one with you, you’d Redford it and send it to him so it’s sorta like he’s there. He found this endearing knowing that you enjoyed unboxing his albums, especially when he was around. He’s pretty positive that you are the first person to open the physical album when he releases a new one.

He helps sleeve and organize your photocards, he buys you binders to store them in and even a little shelf to display the albums on. Loves watching the videos that you send him because it reminds him that it’s ok to enjoy things that others may not like.

Felix:

He finds it cute how you buy his albums, loves how you send him pictures or videos whenever you pull his photocard, or how you try to manifest his photocards with Bbokari. He loves how the binder you have is mainly full of his photocards. And he loves when you send photos of yourself, Bbokari and your favorite photocard of him when doing simple things, like making a meal, or drinking a coffee or getting ready for bed.

Seungmin:

He’ll probably find it a bit weird at first because he just give them to you. But is surprised when you strongly deny his offer of just handing them over to you. He doesn’t understand why you collect his photocards in the first place when you literally see him just about everyday.

You tell him you want the excitement that people get when they pull their favorites and that it’s all apart of the experience. He probably still wouldn’t understand 100% after that, but wouldn’t argue with you.

Jeongin:

It all started when he brought your very first album. He didn’t realize what he started. Soon you were always buying his albums in search for his photocards. You even had a shelf that displayed every single one of his albums that you bought. You had an entire separate binder just for his photocards. He loves seeing how joyful you get when you pull his photocards, and how you seem to sigh and deflate when you pull duplicates. But unlike everyone else you’ve accepted his offer of bringing you just the photocards, but under one condition. He can only bring you a photocard if you’ve been hunting for it for a while and keep pulling duplicates.

__

This has been floating in and out of head for while now, but never found the time to write scenarios for it until now. I’m just glad I could get it down before I forgot about it. Comments and reblogs would be much appreciated.

[ravioliet]

ok so let me be cringe on main for a minute here (this is a joke btw i know cringe isn't real). odd squad mlp au for your consideration

please ask me questions about this by the way i have so much for this. i'll put some of the basic info (it's a lot more than that now but in my defense it started as a basic summary) and a few more drawings under the cut though please look at it with your eyes thank you

so for some basic explanations we have Olive who is a unicorn, Otto who is a pegasus, Olympia who is a part unicorn earth pony (which i'll explain in a sec), and Otis who is a full blooded pegasus (which i'll also explain the importance of in a moment). i haven't drawn Ms. O, Oscar or Oona yet but they are an alicorn (formerly an earth pony), a unicorn, and an earth pony respectively

Olive and Otto are the only two that i've come up with cutie mark designs for so far (they are so hard to design..) but Olympia and Otis have them too, they just get them mid-season. specifically after the talent show. i'm designing them side by side so that they kinda match because they get them at the same time and also they're besties your honor, but anyways theirs are a little fireworks design and some sort of a swan design because y'know. the ugly duckling story. and also i think part of his talent is dancing and like swan lake exists etc etc. and yes this does mean that he's a little bit scared of his own cutie mark at times but he just tries not to think about it and usually covers it with his wings anyway. all four of their cutie mark meanings are kinda abstract personality trait related things

Olive got hers after stopping the pienado because character development moments, which also kinda means that she's sorta tied to Todd because of this which she Does Not Like. i'll need to make a whole other post about Todd in this au because he's definitely a guy, but anyways while they were partners Olive was a blank flank and despite how good at his job he was Todd was one too and it was like one of the only things they really had in common, but it also ends up being one of the reasons he goes rogue because not only is Todd bored but he's also frustrated because he's tried everything he can think of and won every award he possibly can and he still doesn't have a cutie mark even though he feels like he definitely should by now because this has to be his talent. why would he be so good at it if it wasn't? he doesn't get his cutie mark until after he reforms btw, because before then he was either too certain about his talent being something else or too busy causing trouble to entertain himself that he never really took the time to stop and discover that his actual interest was gardening and that's when he finally gets his cutie mark. in my head i have this alternate version of Otis's tomato speech where when Todd is like "i'm Odd Todd it's who i am" Otis is just like "that's not what your cutie mark says" and it's very silly but anyways i'm gonna circle this back around to Olive real quick

so on top of Todd's cutie mark being in gardening he also has a sort of side meaning as well in the sense that he's a little bit like the CMC and has a sort of knack for encouraging character growth in others whether he realizes it or not because. encouraging plants to grow.. encouraging people to grow... the whole villain rehab thing...... you see what i'm getting at here. but the funny thing is the first pony he really did this to was Olive and it was completely unintentional. he didn't know that she would get her cutie mark by stopping him, at least not consciously, but she did. it probably takes him quite some time before he actually puts together the fact that he's had that talent the whole time.

Otto's cutie mark is a lot sillier. he actually doesn't know how he got it or what it means (as mentioned earlier it's symbolic but he doesn't know that. also shoutout to Shroom aka Evillandscaper for suggesting a paper crane because i did NOT know what i was gonna make it) he just kinda walked into work one day and Olive was like "oh cool you got your cutie mark?" and Otto was just like "WAIT I GOT MY CUTIE MARK?????" cue a whole silly filler episode involving the two of them trying to figure out what it means and also Olive having a crisis over the fact that Otto can do that pegasus thing where they use their wings like cartoon hands. both of these become running bits from then on. also i drew this comic about it and it might be one of my favorite things i've made for this au honestly

and on the topic of cutie marks as i previously mentioned, Olympia and Otis both get theirs after the talent show and they're also matching a little bit. theirs are also personality things but in addition to that Otis's is also for dancing and Olympia's is for magic, and you may be wondering how an earth pony can be a magic talent and this is where that half unicorn thing comes in!

so Olympia is half unicorn half earth pony which i don't think is too uncommon on its own, but the thing that makes her weird is that she inherited traits from both sides instead of just one over the other, so she actually has unicorn magic but no horn to actually use it with so she's unable to cast actual spells or anything but her magic will kinda spill over at times, especially if she's emotional, and cause things to happen like that one time she exploded into glitter when interviewing Olive or of course the fireworks! she's kind of like the Pinkie Pie character who just does unexplained things sometimes she's just very silly. fun fact in her ref you can see that her mane and tail are sparkly and that's because they kinda just perpetually look like they have glitter in them, but the thing is it's not really glitter it's all just magic. i imagine her coat is like this as well but i just didn't draw it in

also as a side note it came to my attention that she bears an uncanny similarity to Sparkleworks from G3 and i have absolutely no idea how that happened At All. like they have the same cutie mark and everything it's so weird. i've never even watched G3 i'm a G4 kid i legitimately have no clue how the hell this happened. i did make this out of it though

anyways for Otis, he's a pegasus of course but he's specifically a Cloudsdale weather pegasus, which yes i did make up but hear me out. so basically in my mind pegasi born in somewhere like Cloudsdale are more likely to have weather talents or like. stronger abilities in controlling the weather and such, which means stuff like larger wings and weatherproof wings and feathers to make it easier to deal with storms and stuff like that, so basically all this is just an excuse for me to give Otis waterproof feathers like a duck. but anyways since he was still raised by the ducks he doesn't actually know he's from Cloudsdale or anything so he just thinks he's weird for the feathers thing

okay i have. way more but i'm cutting myself off here so i don't overload everyone with information but anyways, please ask me about them, and also here's some extra drawings i've done of them :3

[trash-king18]

m pt. 5

more overprotective miguel since you all seemed to like part 3

cw: sfw, overprotective miguel, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a g*n but no violence, reader has a panic attack, more soft miguel>>>

————

it’s been a few more weeks now. Miguel was busy as always and you rarely saw him outside of his next infusion. 

It was tense but for once he made no fuss and let you run all your tests after without being a pain. you almost wished he would be annoying, anything would be better than this weird post-nonprofessional silence. at the end of the week everyone was planning to go out again. you weren’t sure it was smart after last time but spider woman convinced you, and as much as you loved her you didn’t wanna be stuck with Mayday right now. 

-

parallel

- 

Peter B swings into Miguel’s office, oblivious as always 

“Hey boss”

“no.”

“oh cmon you didn’t even let me finish i barely started”

“~no~”

“annyyways the team was gonna go out ya know hit the town tomorrow night. wanted to let you know incase you wanna make an appearance.”

“and why would i do that?”

peters silent for a moment

“you know.. because she’ll be there.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about parker but i don’t have time for this now please shut up before i throw you in the go home machine ~again~”

he pauses and then continues

“well… i just thought after last time you’d want to know anyway have fun gotta go bye 

he swings off again 

mayday! honey sweety please don’t put that in your mouth.

hey! can somebody grab the kid?”

“ayúdame dios, voy a matarlo”

so help me god i will kill him

— 

The next night you were out with the whole crew at a bar, it always got confusing because all the different peters insisted on being THE peter and everyone else had to pick a new name, but one too many fights has started over that so now you made them draw straws. 

you were relaxing, drinking a mock tail which was essentially just ice and juice but it tasted good. spider woman was dancing around the whole place with her husband and they were always a sight to see. Peter B had challenged you to a game of darts and he was losing.. terribly. most of the spider people, who were in plain clothes right now, had crowded around you and were cheering. when suddenly they all went quiet. 

you looked around trying to figure out what they were all looking at 

just in time for peter to score a double 20 causing him to cheer for himself like a loon while everyone else was silent. 

you saw him right before Peter did to which he immediate response was “Heyyy!! boss glad you could make it ya know i am losing terribly right now do you think you could sub in for me just for a round gotta call home real quick check on the missus.” 

you address peter but you keep your eyes on him. 

“No peter that’s ok i’m gonna go back to the bar, you win this one.”

you wanted a relaxing night off, and right now the tension between you was anything but relaxing. 

You push through the crowd and return to ask for another of your last drink. 

when the bartender sets it down before you can grab it a hand reaches from behind you to pick it up 

“hey!”

he holds the drink up and sniffs it. apparently satisfied which it’s lack of alcohol he sets it back down. you just glare at him. 

“what are you doing here”

“well it is a.. “company” party and i am the boss”

“it’s not a party, we’re just having fun. something you’re not very good at so if you’ll excuse me”

he grabs your arm gently but enough to keep you from walking away

“have you been drinking”

“wh-none of your business”

he makes his grip just a little bit firmer 

“answer me or i take you home right now” 

“what are you my f-“

you stop yourself. no matter what had happened between the two of you and no matter how infuriating he was you would never say those words to him. 

instead you pull your arm from his grip 

“no. i haven’t.”

and then you storm off. 

you hate how every time he’s near you you start to act like a sexually frustrated immature teenager. not that it was all on you, he returned the energy 10 fold and normally instigated it. 

Peter slides up to him after you leave. 

“Smooth dude. real smooth.”

he just looks at peter before saying “no.” and walking away 

Spider woman and her husband come up to P.B. 

he’s talking his weird middle aged dad nonsense 

“crazy kids, i sure hope they make it” 

Spider woman laughs, maybe but they’re like the opposite of fire and water. they’re like.. fire and gasoline. 

PB “nahhhh i got hope for em” 

“you keep hoping peter” 

she pats his shoulder and walks off

he follows you outside. you’re clearly stressed and the man who was out there smoking offers you a cigarette. you’re about to pass when the man looks up at something behind you and says 

“my bad uh enjoy your night” 

you whirl around and come face to face with him. 

“where are you going?” 

“away” 

“that’s not smart” 

“my masters in biochemical engineering says i’m capable of making that decision myself” 

“do you know where we are?” 

“earth 54, downtown New york” 

“but do you know your environment?” 

“i have eyes i’ll manage” 

“so you noticed that parked car down the street that’s only been running since you came out?” 

“I-“ 

“and you knew the guy who offered you a cigarette  was planning on pulling you into said car most likely to take you to some underground trafficking ring” 

you just stare at him in disbelief. 

“you know just because i don’t have spidey sense doesn’t mean i’m incapable of sensing when somethings wrong. see you spider boy might have good hearing and whatever else but i grew up as a woman on streets not much different from these. and i learned how to take care of myself long before i had any self righteous over protective douchebags to act like my personal body guard.”

he’s about to stop you but before he can you open a portal and jump back to Nueva York. You’re so riled from your latest fight with Miguel you don’t even notice the draft the terrace door being left open. When you open the door you notice the dark figure standing out there you just assume it’s him and you go out to scold him immediately. 

“Ay o’hara que dije, no quiero hablar contingo”

ay miguel what did i say, i don’t want to talk to you 

but as he turns you realized it’s not him. you don’t even bother to close your door before you grab your knife from the strap where it’s hidden under your clothes. 

it was a specialized dagger that could cut through spider webs… just in case. Lyla and spiderbyte had helped you design it. 

“now who the hell are you”

the figure doesn’t move, he stays lounging against the railing. 

“look dude i’ve had a shit day, i’m already pissed, today is not the day.”

this guy clearly got in through the inside door so you doubt he’s a spider person. so you opt for the gun holstered in the back of your belt instead. you’d carried it since you were 17 but you’d never really had to use it. 

his face stays completely shadowed, even in light so you assumed this was an escaped villain from spider-man noirs universe. as much as you felt the need to prove a point and handle this yourself, you had no idea who this was or what kind of skills you’d be up against. So you click the backup button on your watch hoping hobie or someone else responds but knowing it’d probably him following close behind you anyway. 

your best chance right now is to stall and asses the threat

“Where are you from huh?”

he finally speaks his voice is gravelly and weird 

“not here.”

“yeah? like out of town… or a different universe.”

“smart girl. you one of those spider chicks?”

“maybe”

“hmm”

you can’t see his face but you feel him appraising you. 

“so.. what is it that you need mysterious shadow person on my terrace.”

you were trying to get him to move, you knew from growing up that watching the way someone moves is a great way to get a sense for how they fight. and you wanted to get him into the light more. 

you glance at your watch 

your mistake 

never look away even for a second. when you look back up he’s standing closer, you hadn’t even seen him move. you pull your gun up getting ready for a violent encounter. 

“oh cmon now don’t do that darling”

“stay there and i won’t have to”

“hmm you’re a feisty one. that’s too bad”

it’s hard to see movement when he’s essentially a shadow in the dark but you tense and get ready to let your instincts do the work until a dark figure comes barreling through your apartment and out onto the terrace so quickly and silently you only knew he was there because you felt him. He tackles the figure but you watch it slip out of his arms and reappear on top of the railing. 

in a mocking tone he says “adios sweetheart”

then he’s slipping into the dark. Miguel gets up and rushes to you and tenderly grabs your face 

“Are you ok”

he looks genuinely scared of your answer

“i’m fine, go after him”

you push his hand off 

“not until i’m sure you’re safe”

“he wasn’t even attacking me, and right now you’re letting him get away.”

“There’s two others on him right now”

“of course there is.”

you take the clip back out of the gun. 

“since when do you have a gun”

“always”

“you keep that on you?”

“all the time.”

he gives you a weird look you’ve never seen from him before.. you realize it’s pride. 

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“nothing just realizing maybe mi cariño ~can~ take care of herself”

“O’hara i swear to god you call me that one more time i will cut your tongue off with your own teeth”

he just chuckles at you

“im beginning to believe that you could”

“wanna test that?”

before he can answer Lyla pops up on his watch 

“Spider man 784 and 613a have secured the target, placing him in an electromagnetic pod now. will have him brought to your office immediately for questioning.”

“That’s ok Lyla i’m gonna secure the building, send those two back out with a couple others to patrol the perimeter.”

“Will you be a while?”

“Id say our interrogation can wait until the morning.”

“Sure thing boss”

“surely you don’t think you’re staying here all night?” 

“i need to make sure no one else is gonna break in. Guns don’t do much against shadows.”

“can’t you do that from outside.”

“i know you’re mad at me but i’m not leaving until i know you’re safe. so your options are stay in my office all night while I work or let me stay here.”

“ni hablar. im not-“

no way 

“i won’t bother you”

“you’re not sleeping on my couch miguel”

“this way you can sleep in your own bed, and i don’t have to worry about you. besides i’m not sleeping i’m guarding.”

“so.. clearly you’ve missed the entire point of our last two conversations”

“conversation is a weird way of saying you scolding me like a boy”

“if you didn’t insist on acting like one, i wouldn’t have to”

you try to push him out of your apartment but he turns around and holds himself in the doorway. and he has the audacity to pout at you. like full on puppy dog pout, which shouldn’t work when he’s the size of a mastiff if dogs were people. 

“no.”

he just holds himself there with that look on his face 

“… no! get out”

“no vas a ganar esto”

you’re not gonna win this

you groan 

“do not. wake me up. o juro por dios que te asfixiare mientras duermes”

or i’ll suffocate you as you sleep 

you shower and get dressed in the bathroom then find him exactly as he was before pacing and brooding just this time it was on your terrace. you make tea for yourself as you always do. you glance out at him from time to time. 

you knew he was getting some weird sense of attachment to you but this overprotective macho thing was really becoming a problem. 

you take a mug out to him, as an excuse, you expect him to turn it down and he does. 

“this can’t keep happening”

“hmm?”

your voice was gentler now, not angry just tired. the shower and the tea had calmed you down after the fight and your adrenaline rush. although you still felt on edge. 

“you know what i’m talking about. i don’t know what weird animal or testosterone fueled need you’re fulfilling by acting like my sworn protector but i need it to stop. ok? please” 

“i’m just doing my job. protecting people.”

“miguel your job is to protect the spiderverse and collect anomalies. not swoop in the second something goes wrong just because we-“ 

“because we what?” 

“you know” 

“i thought you said it wasn’t anything to talk about” 

“if you don’t want to talk i’m going to bed” 

“no. that’s not what i said” 

you take a deep breath. 

“look i know what happened between us was… it was a lapse of judgment but it’s been affecting our professional relationship and now it’s interfering with my personal life. I value the opportunity that i’ve had working here with you, and i don’t intend for that to end but i need you to be honest with me about what is going on here so that we can move forward.” 

he was quiet for a long time. 

“that sounded rehearsed” is all he says 

“i’ve been trying to figure out how to word it for a while” 

“do you really think it was a lapse of judgement” 

“was it not?” 

“no uhm i mean you’re right” 

“if you disagree you can say so” 

his tone suddenly takes on frustration 

“and why would i tell the truth when you’re still lying” 

“i’m not” 

“you do realize i can hear your heartbeat changing, smell the sweat form on your skin when you lie.” 

“i’m calling your bluff spider boy”

he bristles as you call him that 

“yeah? then how is it ~cariño~that i know you don’t entirely hate it when when i call you that,”

he steps closer 

“i knew you were lying when you said you didn’t want me to stay,”

steps closer again 

“and that you don’t think it was just a mistake.”

and then he closes the gap between you 

“so i’ll ask you again mi cariño, was it ~just~ a mistake”

you look up at him defiantly 

“i’m going to bed” 

he couldn’t tell if you were lying if you didn’t answer. 

when you finally shut your bedroom door behind you you could finally breath. 

he worked you up so easily every time he was near you. 

it had been like this from the beginning. you two were constantly bickering, switching between english and spanish constantly. He was so sassy, even with the kids, sometimes you had to hide your smile or else you might have to admit that you found it slightly funny. and it was the first time you had truly found a match for your attitude. to be honest it reminded you of home. your sister in law knew enough spanish from growing up together but she wasn’t fluent and ever since Pedro had.. 

well it just wasn’t the same. 

although you definitely didn’t think of Miguel like a brother. you weren’t sure exactly how you felt about him. 

you tried to steady your breathing, but this time it was steadily getting worse. the memories of your brother, the events of earlier, and the way miguel keeps managing to get under your skin was finally getting to you. you had felt another episode coming on for a while now but you had managed to keep it at bay. 

“shit, shit. not right now please not right now”

you pressed your back to the door and held your hands on your chest trying to slow your breathing but the thoughts were racing through your head and the world was starting to tilt and spin at the same time. 

you try and walk over to the nightstand to find your rescue medication you have for when this happens. you stumble over, tears are starting to form in your eyes which only makes it harder on top of the dizziness. you just desperately try to keep your breathing quiet even as you hyperventilate. 

at this point of course, he’s inside the living room by your bedroom door listening. 

you can barely walk and you end up crawling over to the side of the bed. you fumble to pull the drawer open and you start to panic more when you don’t find it, you dig through frantically but it’s not there. 

you left it in the medicine cabinet, in the bathroom. 

you sit back into the floor fully hyperventilating now, everything’s spinning out of focus. your hiccuped sobs come in between the breaths that you struggle to take. 

you don’t notice him push the door open at first. 

“y/n? 

hey hey y/n what happened”

he comes up to you and kneels next to you 

“can- can i help?”

you’re barely responsive, you don’t even move. 

he reaches out where you can see and when you don’t move away from his hand he gingerly places it on your arm. he takes that as a sign that he can touch you. 

if you could think straight it probably would’ve surprised you what happened next but you felt like you were dying. 

he sits down on the ground and gently pulls you between his legs into his arms with you back pressed flush against his chest and wraps his arms around you tightly. 

“estas bien, te tengo, te tengo, estas bien”

you’re ok, i’ve got you, i’ve got you, you’re ok

you’re trembling and still struggling to breath but he keeps the pressure while he starts to slowly rock you. 

he begins singing. a spanish lullaby 

you can’t even tell what he’s saying at first but slowly your breath starts to steady and you stop shaking as much. you recognize the song from when you were a kid, it’s one you sang to your nephews when they were little 

he doesn’t stop singing until your breathing is starting to slow 

“muy buena, inhalar y exhalar.”

very good, inhale and exhale 

he holds you like that just breathing in and out with you. 

you eyes are shut tight, you’re not ready to move or face him. 

he doesn’t seem ready to let go either. so you allow yourself to stay like that. 

he finally whispers your name. softer more gentle than you’d ever heard it. no underlying frustration or superiority 

you don’t answer at first so he says it again 

“hmm?”

“puedes abrir tus ojos para mi?”

can you open your eyes for me? 

you shake your head slightly 

“ok. puedas hablar?”

can you talk 

you shake your head again. not yet you think to yourself, not yet. 

“ok ok, Me levantaré y te pondré en la cama, ¿está bien?”

i’m gonna get up and put you in bed okay? 

he shifts to start to be able to pick you up, but you grab his arm tightly. 

“hey hey hey se acabo, estas bien”

it’s over, you’re okay

you know you’re okay now but you don’t want to let go yet. as much as you want to ignore that it’s him the pressure helped. you lessen your grip and he starts to stand you up and slowly walk you over to the bed. 

“Quieres agua?”

do you want water? 

you nod. he leaves and fills up a glass then quickly returns with the water. he holds it to your face even after you took it from him because your hands are still unsteady. he takes it back and places on the nightstand. he’s crouched beside you with his other hand rubbing the small of your back. it was small but reassuring. 

“vamos, deberías acostarte.. yeah?”

cmon, you should lay down 

you nod again. 

he supports your head as you lay back. unnecessary but you don’t mind it right now. 

he pulls the covers from under you so he can pull them over you. 

you still haven’t made eye contact with him this whole time. 

he doesn’t want to push you but he keeps trying to search your eyes to see if you’re okay. you can feel it. you still don’t look at him but you finally speak. 

you voice still comes out slightly shaky. 

“medicine cabinet. top left.”

it takes him a second but he finally gets it he disappears for a moment and then comes back into the room with a bottle of pills. you didn’t necessarily want him to know about them but you needed one and you doubted he’d let you get up if you wanted to. 

He walks over and looks at you slightly puzzled, slightly concerned. He opened the valium, he could see it was prescribed but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t worry what was so bad you needed prescribed rescue medication. 

he put one tablet in his hand and grabbed the glass of water. you sat yourself up enough to take the pill before lying back down all while refusing to look at him. you close your eyes again all that’s left is to wait for it to hit. 

“i’ll be back in to check on you, just uhm.. si me necesitas, estoy aquí. solo descansa ahora.”

if you need me i’m right here, just rest now. 

he hovers for a second before pulling back to slip out but leaving the door slightly ajar. 

you fall asleep for you don’t know how long but when you wake up it’s still dark. you can tell he’s next to you kneeling beside the bed. you don’t move, you’re still too embarrassed to face him. 

your turned away but he gently brushed your cheek with the back of his finger. 

he whispers to you, assuming you’re asleep

“mi pobre cariño, que sucedió”

my poor darling, what happened

your brain was still hazy and all your senses were dampened by the medication. but the gentle touch was enough to make you stir 

he moved to sit on the edge of the bed 

hey lo siento, solo te estaba revisando

sorry i was just checking on you

you look away again by adjusting 

“mm”

he reaches out to grab your shoulder gently. 

“como te sientas? necesitas algo?”

how are you? do you need anything? 

you don’t answer 

you’re half asleep snd still so mellowed out your barely even paying attention to what you say. 

“hey necesitas algo?”

you whisper 

“miguel”

estoy aquí, que necesitas 

“im here what do you need”

you just mutter his name again 

“Miguel”

your hand moves up onto his hand on your shoulder 

he let’s go of your shoulder to hold your hand in his 

you don’t remember exactly how he ends up laying on the other side of your bed, still in his suit above the covers of course, but you do remember him gently rubbing your back as he softly muttered the same lullaby to you until you fell back asleep. 

“arruru mi niña 

arruru mi amor 

arruru pedazo de mi corazón 

este niña lindo que nació de día 

quiere que lo lleven a la dulcería”

————

here’s the taglist just comment if you want to be added

@urmotherswhor3

[lorcandidlucienwill]

Hiiii!! First your posts give me life!!! I’m always waiting for the next one because I know you’re going to spit gems and speak facts 💁‍♀️.

I have a question/thought about the mates situation. People keep saying SJM will be exploring the rejected mating bond concept, specifically in Elain’s book….When did she say that? WHERE? From what I’ve seen and read, she did say it was an interesting concept (fate, mating bond vs agency and all that good stuff) but she also said she didn’t know if she would be exploring it in the future, let alone in Elain’s book or the ACOTAR series. So HOW in the world do people take that as a confirmation that she will absolutely do it in Elain’s book? Even the whole “what if the cauldron is wrong” argument. Well maybe she’ll use Elain’s book to demonstrate that in fact the cauldron is never wrong because it actually doesn’t decide anything. This frustrates me to no end.

Anyway, keep slaying Queen 💅!

My dear Anon, we shall have an Autumn wedding.

This is what SJM said:

“That’s something I find to be very interesting,” she replies. “What if the forces that be put you with the wrong person? Or what if you just decide, eh, I’m not interested. … There’s a lot to explore within the concept of mates and your agency about it. 

“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not,” she continues, “but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

She did NOT confirm that she would be exploring it at ANY point!!!! I do NOT know why people are acting like it is a guarantee.

What if the Cauldron was wrong? COULD be foreshadowing yes, but the answer is rarely that obvious LMAO. Amren told Nesta that there were other ways to fight beside a sword, but Nesta became a warrior. Most likely it's talking about Elain. So is it really so hard to believe that this is NOT talking about Elain at all, but someone else entirely?

The three most likely options for a rejected mating trope are as follows:

LoA-Helion: we get to explore the pain and angst of knowing a mate has married and had children with another, and dealing with the rejected trope for centuries, but will eventually get together in the end. SJM is not about to give Lucien's parents a tragic ending lmfao. And in her world, rejected mates=tragedy.

Mor-Eris: if we go in the direction that mating bonds can only occur between males and females and Mor and Eris are both gay, so they can never have feelings for each other. In which case we explore the difficulties associated with a bond that neither person wants yet the instincts are still there.

Tamlin-Amarantha: did anyone wonder WHY tf Amarantha was so obsessed with Tamlin? Like, I know he's hot and all, but goddamnit girl what the fuck? Now, if they were mates and Tamlin rejected her, it would make sense. It would also add more nuance to Tamlin AND Amarantha's characters, and we'd get to explore Tamlin's trauma post-UTM after being forced to reject and kill his mate and how that drove him a little mad.

But, the rejected bond is NOT a guarantee, so there may NOT be any rejected bonds. These are all just theories at this point. One thing I am CERTAIN of is that the rejected bond will CERTAINLY NOT be Elain and Lucien. Especially not when SJM dangled Gwyn in front of us. Now THAT one is fucking obvious lol.

[bomberqueen17]

noodle bowl recipe/technique

When I'm not at the farm it's always a struggle to eat as many vegetables as my body wants me to eat. Like it's just confusing to go out and buy vegetables when you're really used to just kind of going to the walk-in cooler and being like "ok what have we got too much left over of, time to Eat That", and I need to overcome this by having a recipe in mind beforehand but one I can adapt if they don't have the thing I'm thinking of at the store. So I'm trying to collect not recipes so much as techniques, because I have this problem where it's hard for me to follow a recipe because I accidentally skip reading the middle of it. Ha.

(I saw a good post about how "measure that shit with your heart" is misleading and like, mood. I am a very experienced cook but I have attention problems and can't follow a recipe if I'm tired or distracted or in pain. So I'm trying to link to real everything is measured for you recipes where I can, so if you haven't made this before and don't know what it should look like, you've got a tested version with proper amounts to start with. Just like I do! And then once I have the technique down, and the relative amounts, I'm sharing my method, which is less so on the measuring and more on my mother's technique, which is "you put in enough and then cook it until it is done", which when I was new was so frustrating, but now that I am old, I know it is 100% based on practice. And that's all, there's no mystery, it's just "I've made it before and I know how it should look so you just make it look like that." Now that I can't reliably read a whole recipe and not miss a big whack of the middle of it, I rely so much on having practiced and generally knowing what things look like when they're "right". But it's not magic and I'm not measuring with my heart I'm measuring with my practiced eye and hand.)

Anyway. Rice bowls or noodle bowls are a fantastic way to just throw a bunch of vegetables into a nice yummy sauce over a good comforting starch and have that be a meal. I tend to do a noodle bowl, and then any left over ingredients get incorporated into a fried rice scramble thing later, so you can keep that in mind if you want to try this.

I found this recipe for butternut squash mushroom noodle bowls. And I tried it as written, and it wasn't bad, but for me, roasting everything in the oven was very hard to time and didn't turn out fantastically well. YMMV, but I have more experience sauteeing things. (My first attempt I also used bok choy instead of spinach so I roasted it separately on another sheet pan according to a technique I've done before for roasted bok choy; this approach would probably work just fine if you were paying more attention than I was; my main issue was that noodle bowl recipe linked above gives far too little time for the butternut squash to roast so mine was unpleasantly crunchy. It's wrong, give it longer, and so I found it best to just not try to squeeze anything else onto the sheet with it as that recipe directs.)

So I changed it up for a second try.

First thing I did was peel the butternut squash with a vegetable peeler (I find it easiest to do this if I kinda cut it in half crosswise first), then scoop out and set aside the squash guts, then cube the thing up and roast it on a sheet pan, drizzled with peanut oil and salt and set at 400.

That's gonna take like 45 minutes or so, so I set most of my timing around that. Check the directions on your noodles or whatever, figure out what order you've got to do those in. (Soba are best for the protein, but I had rice noodles and they needed a pre-soak and it messed up my timing, which is why I'm making this note here.)

dice an onion. preheat skillet, add oil, begin to sautee onions.

rinse and prepare bok choi or other green of choice.

when the squash is part of the way cooked (like 25 minutes or so, give it a stir and check it to see if it's softening at all), take the seeds you set aside. separate them from the guts (I squeeze them with my fingers out of the assorted gut-fibers, works pretty well), spread in single layer on small baking sheet. turn oven down to 350. drizzle seeds with sesame oil and a tiny bit of salt. put them in the oven for like ten to fifteen minutes. (Turning the heat down is my attempt to have them not pop and fly all over the oven. IDK if it'll work. Be prepared to wipe seeds out of your oven tomorrow morning. They're not messy at least they just fly everywhere.)

Now throw your mushrooms and some diced garlic into your onions and saute. Add the bok choi or spinach or kale or whatever as you're stirring. Cook it all down.

Now make your sauce-- I did not measure anything this go-round, I just grated a bunch of ginger (I keep my ginger root in the fridge and it's easy to microplane off whatever you need) into a wee prep bowl, then added soy sauce, some honey, a couple spoonfuls of water from the boiling noodles to melt the honey and clean the spoon, and then a spoonful or two of chili crisp ("happy lady sauce" [lao gan ma]) because i don't stock sriracha currently.

When your noodles are ready, turn the oven off. Drain the noodles and divide them into your serving bowls, top with squash, add sauteed veg, squash seeds, the sauce. top with sesame seeds.

This was awesome, and I have leftover cooked squash cubes I'm gonna put into another recipe later cuz if you're gonna roast a butternut you might as well roast a pretty big one. I particularly like using the squash seeds because they're so tasty and crunchy and deserve to be eaten rather than thrown out.

[ranticore]

Chapter 3 - To Be Phocid [Qedivar's research]

It's that time again. Ishmael is a teenage boy, fair warning.

I'm posting this on mobile so I cba linking the previous chapters but go into the siren tag to find them.

x

Following these events, and at Maris’s insistence, Ishmael began to keep a journal. To the delight of this author, his writing was deep, introspective, and highly detailed. From now on, I no longer had to rely on pieced together scraps and reports, but from a primary source. As such, the way these events are related will shift a little, but that is only for events concerning Ishmael.

Cherta, unfortunately, did not keep a journal at this time and remains frustratingly opaque, given Ishmael’s somewhat biased recounting of their activities. Although one must concede to the difficulties of keeping a journal underwater, before the age of sub-aquatic writing systems, and with eighteen other overambitious adolescents in relatively close proximity.

Ishmael’s journal was recorded on a computerified device and was not written by hand, though his deep dream education had serviced to educate him in handwriting skills. This was tested when he was younger, as part of an evaluation to determine the extent of his dexterity. Although the notion of a form of writing which is stored in a purely hypothetical space is very odd, especially in its permanency, it has enabled us to access his thoughts at this day and age, whereas traditional aquatic knot-writing would have long since rotted away.

He wrote in the language of the Predecessors, which I believe to be the root of all air-speaking language families. The translation of these texts is what has taxed me more than any other part of this process, aside from the grievous bodily harm, and it has taken a fantastic span of time to achieve this translation. I cannot credit my sources for fear of implicating them but you can be assured that the finest minds of the Spire collaborated on this project. This Predecessor tongue is what is spoken in all of the videos, enabling me to learn it to a conversational level, though I am hardly fluent.

Some of the journal is rendered untranslatable due to it referring to objects or concepts which were considered common knowledge at the time, requiring no additional definition. These concepts or objects will be clearly marked. However, I believe much of the text to be familiar to many people, telling of the frustration and longing common and recognisable today. That said, I believe it is also important not to take for granted the relatability.

Ishmael is not always familiar to us and existed in a time we would find nigh incomprehensible. Do not take this as reason to doubt his interiority or personhood, and do not fall into the trap of believing that you would have done better in his place, that you would have seen clearly what he obviously did not (and had good reason not to). They may have been phocids, or the predecessors of phocids, but they were new. If you were the first of your kind, could you do better?

I will now present the text in chronological order, starting from the eve of his sixteenth birthday:

-

Entry 1 – I hate seeing that baby siphonid. It’s still moving. It drags itself around on the leg the researchers didn’t take. Now I’m just going to remember this forever, since I wrote it down. Great. I hate that fucking noise. Why can’t they just get it to shut up?

Thank [deity]. They took it away.

Update – it didn’t even taste good.

-

Entry 2 - Maris told me to talk more about my feelings. What does she know? Nobody understands me anyway. I don’t think they can feel all that on their face like me. The sipho noise kept touching me. The researchers are always talking about hydrofoils and antennae but I bet they don’t know what I do - how the siphos talk to each other. I told Callum and he didn’t know what I meant, even though he has a beard.

Talked to Lee again about sex since Dan said he wouldn’t tell me himself. I don’t think Lee told the truth about a lot of that stuff. The other kids sometimes joke around a bit too much, but it is kinda funny I guess.

Update - Dan shouted at me for asking, but now I have proof Lee was wrong.

-

Entry 3 – The phocids click at each other underwater with their tongues.

Dan got so angry after I pulled my face hair out. He made the interns [untranslatable] search my room for the hairs and they actually found them. They didn’t even do anything with it, just put it in a bag and sealed it away. Looks like nobody wants it at all. Dan says Atom spent 120 billion nua making me, so I think one face hair is worth a few million. If I started selling them to the people outside the lab, I could buy my own stake of land on Siren just like them. I wouldn’t let Lee in. My fingers are probably worth a couple billion each.

Should I

-

Entry 4 – Emer (the intern) looked at me like I did something wrong when she changed my pillowcases.

Spilled bile EVERYWHERE when they were testing me. I keep thinking about somehow saving it and trying to sell it. I’m supposed to be a digestive model for Siren food, so my insides are probably worth a lot. I should ask Dan when he calms down.

Callum came around to talk to Dan again. He’s getting really tall, he’s taller than me now even when I stand up straight. He’s so skinny, like the baby siphonids (I can snap one in half with just my teeth now). When Callum was there, he didn’t want to look at me, but I get it. They didn’t even cook the siphonid this time, it was raw and with the shell on. His leg is the same width as one of them.

Emer won’t stop changing my pillowcases. Is there a way to prevent them from smelling like that?? Callum hasn’t been around so I can’t ask. Maris thinks it’s just because people my age start getting sweaty but Dan specifically told me he made me not have sweat glands anywhere but my hands. Then he said the phocids do have sweat glands. I still don’t get the point of sweating if you’re already a stupid wet rat who lives in the

-

Entry 5 – I’m seventeen now. Since I’m an adult, I decided to stop being reticent around the phocids. I want to know if they found a comfortable way to walk without the skin coming off their tails. So I went to talk to them today for the first time. There is a window where you can do it, they let it open ever since the climate control got busted again last month.

Cherta is really weird. I knew they couldn’t stay in the pool for very long because they might have a seizure but apparently it can happen any time, not just underwater. They have a button implant that makes their muscles relax. Anyway, their tails have thicker skin than mine so that was useless. But it is still worthwhile, I think, to meet with the phocids. They remind me why I am a human, and they are not. I kind of pity them because all they're ever going to be is a bunch of test subjects in a tiny swimming pool.

Cherta told me that one of the phocids died a year ago. I don’t remember Dan ever talking about it to me, but they said it was a big deal. Apparently they got pressure sickness when climate control broke the first time. I think Cherta broke it the second time, they sounded too proud to mention it. I don’t get it. Anyway, breaking stuff in the lab is against the rules and I think I’m going to tell Dan about that.

-

Entry 6 – I made the right choice. Cherta got so angry when they found out I told on them that they had another seizure. The other phocids had to pull them out of the pool. Dan thought I did the right thing but I don’t think he liked me going to tell Cherta about it afterwards, told me no one likes a snitch. Well, then, what am I supposed to do? Just let it happen? I hope Cherta chokes on that gross pool water next time.

Dan suggested I go do something other than visit the phocids and I agree, they’re clearly not worth my time. I went to see Callum instead but he wasn’t in. He has a games console, I saw him show it off to Lee the other day. I wonder if he’d let me try it.

[End of Journal Entries]

-

It paints an interesting picture. As Ishmael mentions, Cherta suffered permanent neurological issues as a result of their birth mishaps. This was a point of contention within the lab, beyond Ishmael’s knowledge; the finance manager of the settlement questioned the wisdom of keeping a test subject in an aquatic locomotion study group who could not spend much time underwater. Every time, however, Dan Loris would respond that Cherta now provided essential information about phocid neurology and drowning mechanisms.

The phocid whose death Ishmael mentions was number seventeen, Ambla. It is highly likely that number seventeen’s death was accidental, but the circumstances were not caused by a failure of the lab’s climate system.

I have found the experimental notes from that day; Ambla was brought to an isolated chamber which was controlled by the climate system, with its own test pool, and the quality of the atmosphere was changed to match that of the Precursor home planet. The force of gravity was thus increased. What the Humans did not expect was Ambla’s sudden inability to swim to the surface. They inhaled water, which settled in their lungs and caused them to drown even after they had been pulled out of the pool.

Dan expressed grief in his notes, and surprise. He did not understand why such a thing would occur and blamed the climate system for somehow altering the test beyond his parameters. This is likely what led to Cherta’s misconception that the climate system had killed one of their friends, and their subsequent sabotage of the climate system every few months after that.

But any phocid or selkie reading this will intimately recognise the problem, and I believe the mystery of Ambla’s death may now be solved. The water taken to fill the pool was likely Tel!am’s Blood, a phenomenon all sea-faring people will know about. The Precursors, it seemed, were unfamiliar with it, and had pumped water in to the pool which nobody could swim in. But with the increased gravity, even the fittest phocid would struggle to rise in shallow water.

Regardless, there exists a substantial gap between that last journal entry and the next. Almost a year, in fact, when Ishmael did not write at all, and neither did he participate in Maris’s therapy sessions. I do, however, have a copy of Callum’s journal with me which provides at least half of the narrative, incomplete as it is.

[mrs-monaghan]

hello,

Was just curious about something. The reason I ask you this is because you like both JK and JM individually as well as a ship.

Is it true that Sevens multiple versions streams are combined whereas Like Crazy isn't? I am not sure if this is a solo Akages narrative or if it's actually true?

No my dear. Unfortunately this is very, very true. I don't answer this asks often because people get triggered and send like multiple venting asks about it. And all the anger and frustration I honestly don't think is good for anybody.

But for the sake of clarification anon, PJMs are right. FACE has been a roller coaster. So much fuckery. I'm convinced someone at Hybe doesn't want Jimin to succeed. But as long as he continues to work under them what can we do? Right?

I mean, you would think they'd do everything for their artist to succeed but we have been asking for months and they are yet to restock the like crazy cd. What's their excuse for this? What's the reason? Like, Jimin is one of their own, fans are asking to buy his music, why are they not giving fans what they want? It makes no fucking sense??????

Is Jimin aware that this is happening??? I am so confused.

And they have no issue restocking SEVEN so JK continues to break all these records. And I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, but if they would let us buy Jimin's music, he would have broken those records way before JK and that, is the honest to God truth. JK may have the support of the GP due to the push SEVEN has and is still getting (one more remix and I will swallow a shoe) but if they would treat Jimin fairly we would get him there too.

Anyway, I personally I'm not dwelling on this anymore than I have to. It is what it is. Alot of Jikookers hate JK now because of this, so one has to be very careful right now on how much u let this affect u.

So I cope by reminding myself Jimin said with his own mouth that he had alot of support when making FACE. He also got alot of support when he won that BB hot 100. When u think about it, not alot of people posted about JK's which is something I find so weird to date. 🤔 And, Jimin still wants to be a part of BTS which means he will continue to work with Hybe despite what we view as bad treatment from said company.

So anon I ask myself, what I'm I missing? And then I accept there's alot happening behind the scenes that I'm not aware of. It makes me feel better and I go about my day trying to get Like Crazy to hit 100M on YT. Thats my goal as a Jimin stan rn. They have our hands tied here so aint much left but to stream innit?

If you're like me and can only stream on YT please follow this account that will guide you through what u need to do and when u need to do it

[mypoisonedvine]

I hate hate hate having to talk about this stuff because I know 98% of y'all are not the problem, and the remaining 2% are probably not going to care in the slightest. but I need to set some boundaries and explain why I'm getting frustrated before any more resentment builds.

I've been writing for cillian murphy characters since july 26 when I posted 'thoughtless', since then I've released well over one hundred thousand words of content for him. I'm not exaggerating, I counted. it's been five and a half weeks and I've posted 14 full-length one shots which means I'm posting more than twice a week. that's not even including drabbles/requests.

I'm getting concerned that this has set a precedent that people are holding me to and I'm getting annoyed by the entitlement in some of my asks and comments.

first things first, and I know nobody means anything bad by this but it's pissing me off: stop using the phrase "full smut" in your requests, it's driving me crazy. this started abruptly after I posted a bunch of drabbles in one sitting based on y'all's ideas and requests. I did that as a way to try out new ideas and appease people who hadn't had their concepts written about yet. instead of people being happy with what I wrote for them, people got frustrated that the drabbles were drabble-length and not thousands of words long like my full fics (which take me several days to write, rather than an hour or less which is the point of short requests). ever since, people won't stop coming into my inbox talking about making a "full smut" for a certain character or idea as if they're terrified that I'll only post something short. I usually don't post short things. I feel now like those drabbles were a colossal waste of time because all they did was make people afraid I wouldn't write longer stuff; I wanted to open requests again because I had fun, but now I feel like it's a bad idea because it'll just leave people frustrated when they see it's not whatever a "full smut" is and then tell me it's incomplete and I need to write more. a short drabble can very well be a complete story. stop asking for "full smut" PLEASE. just tell me what you're interested in reading and trust that, as the author, I will tell the story in the correct length of time.

secondly, the way people are asking for stories about new characters is getting out of control. I think you guys don't realize that I only post less than half of the asks I get, because they are so repetitive and constant. I have literally over 2000 unanswered asks currently. if I answered all the asks I received, I would lose followers because it clogs the dash and half of them are the same questions.

and I'm just gonna say this one explicitly: please stop asking me to write for cillian's character in the movie 'anna'. I'm not saying that I won't or that I don't want to. but I need you to understand that I get easily 3-5 asks a DAY about this character and I am exhausted. I'm not particularly interested in watching the movie. not only does it look like it's probably just not that good, but on a very personal note, I am in recovery for an eating disorder (and relapsed recently) and I just... don't wanna watch a movie with a runway model in the leading role right now. I'm sorry if that feels like body shaming or something but I've been waiting until I feel like I can watch it without feeling sick or enraged. it should come as a surprise to no one who is familiar with my work that I'm not a particularly mentally healthy person. but that's only part of it; I answered asks about this character for a while saying I wanted to write for him eventually, but I had to stop because people just asked about him every day anyways without reading my very recent posts with the same question. I'm still not ruling it out. I'm just warning you guys that it will be a while.

people are now commenting requests for new characters ON MY CURRENT FICS FOR UNRELATED CHARACTERS. how entitled and dense do you have to be to do that? I can't believe this has to be said, but comments on my fics should be... related to the content of the fic you're commenting on.

to be clear, I'm not mad at anyone for doing this stuff (except that last one, that's unforgivably ridiculous) because I think the intentions are pure. but now that I've explained why this stuff bothers me, I'm asking you to put a little more thought into how you phrase your questions and comments. to be clear: for the most part I feel incredibly supported and appreciated here and I've been very impressed by this fandom's ability to not be morality police and manage their own content consumption. a lot of you have reached out with concern about the speed at which I was producing and I totally understand and value that. I honestly think I can keep up that pace for a little while longer... I just wanted to explain why I'm getting a little irritated and hopefully decrease the amount of asks I get repeating the same two or three things.

so, tl;dr -- I've been having a lot of fun writing and I plan to keep doing it as much as I can. some people are spoiling the fun for everyone by being (usually unintentionally) entitled and impatient. I don't mind you guys showing enthusiasm for things you'd like to see from me, in fact it's helpful because it tells me what might get a good reception. but please be thoughtful in how you make these requests and please support what I've already written if you want to see more. I think non-writers have a hard time understanding how inspiration works (hell, even writers don't really understand it in ourselves lol) and so it kinda just seems like if I can write about one thing I can write about any thing. but I only write so much and so fast because I write what speaks to me and not other people's ideas. again, thank you so much for all the love and support this past month!!

p.s. I also get asks multiple times a day asking when I will post a fic, especially if I've announced it. I always post fics between 4 and 5 PM central US time. I would recommend calculating when that is for you and I promise you'll find me posting very reliably at this time on days I have fics announced. hopefully this saves us all some trouble in the future lmao

[lollytea]

Up until a month back I liked a guy. And I really liked him. But I found out he didn't like me back. I was really upset, but I didn't want to hold it against him, but then I found out he had a reputation of being a player (which, at our age of 14 is flirtatiously texting girls and then just. Ghosting them).

And I felt really upset. I began to question if he even saw me as a friend, and whether the way he texted me was even friendly. What if he secretly loathed me and was just doing this to get a kick out of it? What if he knew about my feelings and they were just a joke to him?

I wanted to cry, but I told my friends and my sister I was okay. But I wanted to scream. Its not my fault I was born ugly. It's not my fault my face makes me unlovable. And even though I wanted to distance myself from him I felt some sort of perverse pleasure every time he did something embarrassing in front of every one.) And that's when I think it hit me.

That's why I'm unlovable. I am unlovable because I'm a terrible person. My friends tried to comfort me saying that he's a shitty person who can't see my beauty/cuteness, but friends are obligated to say that. I wanted to believe them because they're all so beautiful, and they would never lie to me because they love me. But they deserve a better friend than me.

I want to cry because I want to experience having a whirlwind romance, and falling in love. I also know I'll probably never have that.

And AGH I feel so upset. Because all my life I've known I was ugly. But when this guy showed me attention, was nice to me, it made me feel special. Made me feel like I was having my own romance.

I hate it I hate it I hate it. I hate that I can't be loved, I hate my face, I hate myself for feeling these things. Last year when I suspected I began liking him, I told myself not to fall too deep, and here I am, ranting to you on tumblr dot com.

Lollytea, I love your writing and I love your posts. I love how confident you are of yourself. I'm very sorry for ranting in your inbox about my shitty love life, if this makes you uncomfortable, please delete it. But if you don't, I genuinely would like some encouragement. That my time for my own romance will come. That I will learn to love this face.

You're not unlovable. You're just 14. It just happens that being 14 feels a lot like being chronically unlovable. But no, that is not actually the case.

Maybe you've heard this a lot. And I imagine that it must be frustrating to listen to. That being a teenager just means your emotions are bigger and more intense than they will ever be in your entire life, so they're irrational and silly.

That's not the case either. Your feelings matter. And they're worth being listened to. But I do need you to keep in mind that the age range you're in right now is one of the most difficult periods of time that a human being will ever go through. Being a teenager is very hard. Being an adult is hard too. But me and every adult I've ever met would not trade it for being 14 again. No way in hell.

It does severely influence how you see yourself and why your emotions feel so strong and messy and all over the place. But I assure you that you're doing a fantastic job for a person in your situation. It's rough and you're getting through it and I'm proud of you.

Firstly, I'm going to say this quite bluntly but dont take it as me insulting them. Most of the boys in your class probably aren't that smart. And they are the absolute worst people to be seeking validation from. I promise that their opinion of you is not worth worrying about because they are...stupid, frankly. They won't be stupid forever. Probably. But being 14 is a weird age for boys too and they're quite mean for a while before they mature and chill tf out. Please try not to let it get to you if one of them doesn't like you romantically. I promise you it is not remotely a big deal. None of them have any idea how to be good boyfriends yet anyway.

No, you're not unlovable for occasionally having spiteful little thoughts about somebody who was mean to you. Everybody has those every once in a while. As long as you maintain some self-awareness and don't let cruelty consume your whole brain, having a few mean thoughts doesn't make you a terrible person. What WOULD make you a terrible person is external terrible behaviour. It's your actions that matter. So just be kind, alright? Be kind to your friends. Ignore the people you don't like but be civil. Don't hurt anyone. If you stick to all of this, you're golden. Considering that you already seem so self-critical of being a bit bitchy inside your own head, I think that's a promising sign than you won't do anything worse than that. I hope so anyway. Be kind, that's all you can do. Your friends love you. If you put your all into loving them in return, then you can have something so special.

You're not ugly, you're 14. Sorry, I'm getting a bit repetitive but I think it's relevant information to this whole situation. At the age you're at, your face is probably in this weird transitional period between child and adult so maybe that's why it might look "uglier" than usual to you. It might last a few more years but it won't look like that forever. I assure you that your face is beautiful because it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do. It's alright if you've felt ugly your whole life. The way you look at your own face is way more personal than the way you look at other people's faces. We don't really notice the flaws on others the way we notice our own. We're wired weird like that.

All I can say is hang tight. If you don't like your face then please try not to let it upset you that much. Your face hasn't fully developed yet. For the time being, you look exactly the way you're supposed to look and you're perfect. Let's see how it looks in a few years before we make any rash decisions about it being as ugly as you think it is.

Don't be hasty in the belief that you'll never find love and romance. I assure you that the age you're at is the absolute worst time to get a boyfriend and its perfectly okay if you don't experience it for another while. It's normal. You're fine. It's okay.

I know you want it. I know it sounds nice. And I promise that if its important to you, once you're older and the people you're interested in are a little smarter, you will have it.

I'm serious when I say that for the time being, focus on being a good friend. Focus on school. Focus on your own physical and mental health. Focus on your hobbies. Being wanted by 14 year old boys won't mean shit in the long run.

Things will be okay. You talk so much about how you'll be alone for the rest of your life. But your life has only just begun and you hardly know who you are yet. It's impossible to tell what will happen in the coming years. I promise that you'll be okay.

I know you came for me for reassurance but from that last paragraphs, I'm sure you're already smart enough to know the things I've told you. But I imagine that you just needed a second opinion. Take care, love.

[kess-in-the-perthchimzone]

I have so much work to do but I also feel like I’m losing my mind a little so have a mini In Defense of PerthChimon (the people hating on them almost certainly won’t see this or care, but writing is how I cope with my frustration, SO):

This feels so incredibly obvious but clearly it needs to be stated — there are a lot of people who find them very charming. If you think they are “disgusting” or “unappealing” that is a personal perspective. It is not fact.

If you think PC are secretly uncomfortable with each other, I invite you to watch some of their interviews and other behind the scenes moments, because they are pretty clearly not.

If you claim to like one or the other but advocate they should be separated, both have repeatedly said they would only do BL with each other and that they want to work together for a very long time. Just one interview below.

This is similar to a few bullets above, but subtly different — if you think they have “no chemistry” based solely on kissing, you are ignoring several other markers of physical and emotional chemistry, such as eye contact, hands (which they are exceptional at), general rapport, and more. They’ve also repeated said that feeding off each other while acting helps them elevate the really intense scenes they have. There’s also a really phenomenal post I will link to if I can find about how well they physically act together — timing things like throws and fights together.

But regardless, to those who say the kissing is “bad” — again, I personally don’t see it, but enough people are apparently zooming in on the screen and staring closely looking to find issue that it should be addressed. I have two very contradictory points but I am going to make them anyway: (1) they are playing two high schoolers, who are both coded as being each other’s first partners, who are meant to be shy and uncertain and learning together. Like after all the discourse in the locker room, I believe they are exceptional enough actors to be playing their scenes that way. (2) Why does it matter if they are kissing closed mouth? Is a BL only good now if there is really ‘sexy’, open-mouthed kissing? This is placing a very strange priority on a very tiny part of the acting process.

So all this said, pairs aren’t going to be for everyone, but it’s really rude to tag the actors in hate about their performance. It’s also just very frustrating to see pure hate in tags that are meant for sharing fandom joy — sorry but it just makes you look like you are looking for likes/attention. It’s a great way to get blocked by a whole lot of people instead of the reblogs you might want.

And it’s really not in good faith to ask two actors for an interview and then badmouth them shortly after. So I have deleted my previous recommendation to watch the recent PerthChimon interview on an English language BL podcast and encourage people who are fans of PC not to give likes/views to that outlet moving forward (happy to share more information via DM but not willing to further grow their name).

[therealeagal]

Hades

You know, I've mentioned before that I don't care for certain genres of video games. It's because I'm a scrub who hates losing and a fake gamer who likes games that are easy, and in neither case have I the patience to Git Gud.

On the other hand, I've also mentioned that I am endlessly fascinated by Greek mythology because I'm a nerd. It's always interesting, if a bit over-exposed. How about a game about mythology other than the bloody Greeks and the Norse? I'm lookin' at you, Kratos.

I guess there was that one Hinduism game some years ago. What was it again? The dude with the multiple arms and the giant planet sized dude who tries to crush the hero with his finger. I think it started with an N...ok I found it. Asura's Wrath. I was way off.

Didn't get enough credit if you ask me.

If one were to make a game based on mythology, perhaps there's something from Africa that would make for an interesting concept. I don't know, I'm just spitballing. Preferably one that doesn't involve freaking Anansi, because he's overexposed too.

ANYWAY.

So I picked up Hades on the strength of being a nerd, not because I had a sudden change of heart viz a viz rogue-likes.

Cast in the role of protagonist, one Zagreus, son of Hades and (so he formerly believed) Nyx, respectively the god of the Underworld and the goddess of the night.

But some how that I forget, young Zaggy discovered that Nyx is not truly his mother. His true mother is actually named Persephone and that's a whole thing, but suffice it to say, she left the underworld at some point because reasons and hasn't been seen since.

Anyway, so then young Zaggy must fight his way out of the underworld in search of his mother. Along the way, he receives help from several of the gods who reside upon Mount Olympus, who are his uncles and assorted cousins as well as his grandmother (who doesn't know she's his grandmother. It's a very top secret hush hush sort of thing), Demeter.

Then middle middle middle, everyone lives happily ever after. Except not really because they're doing a sequel, but I'm sure that game will have everyone living happily ever after. Except for the Titans, I guess, but fuck them anyway.

====

So anyway, as to the gameplay, I was prepared for a slog, and mightily did I toil until - while searching the settings for the volume controls (it's a very loud game) I discovered a nifty little option in the settings menu called God Mode. Fake gamer that I am, I naturally took the opportunity to activate it, providing 20% damage reduction, which reduction would grow incrementally 'pon my inevitable death, capped at 80% and rarely did I turn it back off.

It really does make a world of difference. What once promised to be an unbearable slog was now instead an enjoyable game.

The deaths I still suffer on occasion (on account of being a fake gamer) still manage to advance the story 9 times out of 10, and always manage to entertain and at no point do I feel overwhelmed or frustrated by needless difficulty that the devs refuse to accomodate. Well, except when using the bow. I know it's supposed to be the strongest weapon, but I'm more of a button mash kinda gamer. Perils of being a filthy casual, I guess. Gimme Excalibur any day of the week.

The only thing missing is a sword beam and a Japanese highschooler who wants to be a hero.

That's a reference by the way. It shows that I am very clever. But it's an anime reference, which cancels out the cleverness and instead shows that I'm a jackass.

P.S. If you are offended by my use of God Mode, which invalidates everything that you - as a REAL gamer - went through to Git Gud, then please remember that I warned you several times throughout this post that I am both a filthy casual and a fake gamer, so... well, I won't tell you to eat all of the shit and then die, because I am a nice person, but I will think it. Really hard.

P.P.S. This is totally unrelated, but WHY DID THEY CHANGE THE WAY THAT POSTS ARE MADE? I HATE THIS FORMAT (is that the right word?). WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THE OLD WAY!? NEW IS BAD! CHANGE IS SCARY! ARGNOEHAOAFEHJKHSGDGSHGJKDHGJKDGHDK!