#the things i get to do in my free time are the only things helping me cling to life

[tofupixel]

⭐ So you want to learn pixel art? ⭐

🔹 Part 1 of ??? - The Basics!

Hello, my name is Tofu and I'm a professional pixel artist. I have been supporting myself with freelance pixel art since 2020, when I was let go from my job during the pandemic.

My progress, from 2017 to 2024. IMO the only thing that really matters is time and effort, not some kind of natural talent for art.

This guide will not be comprehensive, as nobody should be expected to read allat. Instead I will lean heavily on my own experience, and share what worked for me, so take everything with a grain of salt. This is a guide, not a tutorial. Cheers!

🔹 Do I need money?

NO!!! Pixel art is one of the most accessible mediums out there.

I still use a mouse because I prefer it to a tablet! You won't be at any disadvantage here if you can't afford the best hardware or software.

Because our canvases are typically very small, you don't need a good PC to run a good brush engine or anything like that.

✨Did you know? One of the most skilled and beloved pixel artists uses MS PAINT! Wow!!

🔹 What software should I use?

Here are some of the most popular programs I see my friends and peers using. Stars show how much I recommend the software for beginners! ⭐

💰 Paid options:

⭐⭐⭐ Aseprite (for PC) - $19.99

This is what I and many other pixel artists use. You may find when applying to jobs that they require some knowledge of Aseprite. Since it has become so popular, companies like that you can swap raw files between artists.

Aseprite is amazingly customizable, with custom skins, scripts and extensions on Itch.io, both free and paid.

If you have ever used any art software before, it has most of the same features and should feel fairly familiar to use. It features a robust animation suite and a tilemap feature, which have saved me thousands of hours of labour in my work. The software is also being updated all the time, and the developers listen to the users. I really recommend Aseprite!

⭐ Photoshop (for PC) - Monthly $$

A decent option for those who already are used to the PS interface. Requires some setup to get it ready for pixel-perfect art, but there are plenty of tutorials for doing so.

Animation is also much more tedious on PS which you may want to consider before investing time!

⭐⭐ ProMotion NG (for PC) - $19.00

An advanced and powerful software which has many features Aseprite does not, including Colour Cycling and animated tiles.

⭐⭐⭐ Pixquare (for iOS) - $7.99 - $19.99

Probably the best app available for iPad users, in active development, with new features added all the time.

Look! My buddy Jon recommends it highly, and uses it often.

One cool thing about Pixquare is that it takes Aseprite raw files! Many of my friends use it to work on the same project, both in their office and on the go.

⭐ Procreate (for iOS) - $12.99

If you have access to Procreate already, it's a decent option to get used to doing pixel art. It does however require some setup. Artist Pixebo is famously using Procreate, and they have tutorials of their own if you want to learn.

🆓 Free options:

⭐⭐⭐ Libresprite (for PC)

Libresprite is an alternative to Aseprite. It is very, very similar, to the point where documentation for Aseprite will be helpful to Libresprite users.

⭐⭐ Pixilart (for PC and mobile)

A free in-browser app, and also a mobile app! It is tied to the website Pixilart, where artists upload and share their work. A good option for those also looking to get involved in a community.

⭐⭐ Dotpict (for mobile)

Dotpict is similar to Pixilart, with a mobile app tied to a website, but it's a Japanese service. Did you know that in Japanese, pixel art is called 'Dot Art'? Dotpict can be a great way to connect with a different community of pixel artists! They also have prompts and challenges often.

🔹 So I got my software, now what?

◽Nice! Now it's time for the basics of pixel art.

❗ WAIT ❗ Before this section, I want to add a little disclaimer. All of these rules/guidelines can be broken at will, and some 'no-nos' can look amazing when done intentionally.

The pixel-art fundamentals can be exceedingly helpful to new artists, who may feel lost or overwhelmed by choice. But if you feel they restrict you too harshly, don't force yourself! At the end of the day it's your art, and you shouldn't try to contort yourself into what people think a pixel artist 'should be'. What matters is your own artistic expression. 💕👍

◽Phew! With that out of the way...

🔸"The Rules"

There are few hard 'rules' of pixel art, mostly about scaling and exporting. Some of these things will frequently trip up newbies if they aren't aware, and are easy to overlook.

🔹Scaling method

There are a couple ways of scaling your art. The default in most art programs, and the entire internet, is Bi-linear scaling, which usually works out fine for most purposes. But as pixel artists, we need a different method.

Both are scaled up x10. See the difference?

On the left is scaled using Bilinear, and on the right is using Nearest-Neighbor. We love seeing those pixels stay crisp and clean, so we use nearest-neighbor. 

(Most pixel-art programs have nearest-neighbor enabled by default! So this may not apply to you, but it's important to know.)

🔹Mixels

Mixels are when there are different (mixed) pixel sizes in the same image.

Here I have scaled up my art- the left is 200%, and the right is 150%. Yuck!

As we can see, the "pixel" sizes end up different. We generally try to scale our work by multiples of 100 - 200%, 300% etc. rather than 150%. At larger scales however, the minute differences in pixel sizes are hardly noticeable!

Mixels are also sometimes seen when an artist scales up their work, then continues drawing on it with a 1 pixel brush.

Many would say that this is not great looking! This type of pixels can be indicative of a beginner artist. But there are plenty of creative pixel artists out there who mixels intentionally, making something modern and cool.

🔹Saving Your Files

We usually save our still images as .PNGs as they don’t create any JPEG artifacts or loss of quality. It's a little hard to see here, but there are some artifacts, and it looks a little blurry. It also makes the art very hard to work with if we are importing a JPEG.

For animations .GIF is good, but be careful of the 256 colour limit. Try to avoid using too many blending mode layers or gradients when working with animations. If you aren’t careful, your animation could flash afterwards, as the .GIF tries to reduce colours wherever it can. It doesn’t look great!

Here's an old piece from 2021 where I experienced .GIF lossiness, because I used gradients and transparency, resulting in way too many colours.

🔹Pixel Art Fundamentals - Techniques and Jargon

❗❗Confused about Jaggies? Anti-Aliasing? Banding? Dithering? THIS THREAD is for you❗❗

As far as I'm concerned, this is THE tutorial of all time for understanding pixel art. These are techniques created and named by the community of people who actually put the list together, some of the best pixel artists alive currently. Please read it!!

🔸How To Learn

Okay, so you have your software, and you're all ready to start. But maybe you need some more guidance? Try these tutorials and resources! It can be helpful to work along with a tutorial until you build your confidence up.

⭐⭐ Pixel Logic (A Digital Book) - $10 A very comprehensive visual guide book by a very skilled and established artist in the industry. I own a copy myself.

⭐⭐⭐ StudioMiniBoss - free A collection of visual tutorials, by the artist that worked on Celeste! When starting out, if I got stuck, I would go and scour his tutorials and see how he did it.

⭐ Lospec Tutorials - free A very large collection of various tutorials from all over the internet. There is a lot to sift through here if you have the time.

⭐⭐⭐ Cyangmou's Tutorials - free (tipping optional) Cyangmou is one of the most respected and accomplished modern pixel artists, and he has amassed a HUGE collection of free and incredibly well-educated visual tutorials. He also hosts an educational stream every week on Twitch called 'pixelart for beginners'.

⭐⭐⭐ Youtube Tutorials - free There are hundreds, if not thousands of tutorials on YouTube, but it can be tricky to find the good ones. My personal recommendations are MortMort, Brandon, and AdamCYounis- these guys really know what they're talking about!

🔸Where To Post

Outside of just regular socials, Twitter, Tumblr, Deviantart, Instagram etc, there are a few places that lean more towards pixel art that you might not have heard of.

⭐ Lospec Lospec is a low-res focused art website. Some pieces get given a 'monthly masterpiece' award. Not incredibly active, but I believe there are more features being added often.

⭐⭐ Pixilart Pixilart is a very popular pixel art community, with an app tied to it. The community tends to lean on the young side, so this is a low-pressure place to post with an relaxed vibe.

⭐⭐ Pixeljoint Pixeljoint is one of the big, old-school pixel art websites. You can only upload your art unscaled (1x) because there is a built-in zoom viewer. It has a bit of a reputation for being elitist (back in the 00s it was), but in my experience it's not like that any more. This is a fine place for a pixel artist to post if they are really interested in learning, and the history. The Hall of Fame has some of the most famous / impressive pixel art pieces that paved the way for the work we are doing today.

⭐⭐⭐ Cafe Dot Cafe Dot is my art server so I'm a little biased here. 🍵 It was created during the recent social media turbulence. We wanted a place to post art with no algorithms, and no NFT or AI chuds. We have a heavy no-self-promotion rule, and are more interested in community than skill or exclusivity. The other thing is that we have some kind of verification system- you must apply to be a Creator before you can post in the Art feed, or use voice. This helps combat the people who just want to self-promo and dip, or cause trouble, as well as weed out AI/NFT people. Until then, you are still welcome to post in any of the threads or channels. There is a lot to do in Cafe Dot. I host events weekly, so check the threads!

⭐⭐/r/pixelart The pixel art subreddit is pretty active! I've also heard some of my friends found work through posting here, so it's worth a try if you're looking. However, it is still Reddit- so if you're sensitive to rude people, or criticism you didn't ask for, you may want to avoid this one. Lol

🔸 Where To Find Work

You need money? I got you! As someone who mostly gets scouted on social media, I can share a few tips with you:

Put your email / portfolio in your bio Recruiters don't have all that much time to find artists, make it as easy as possible for someone to find your important information!

Clean up your profile If your profile feed is all full of memes, most people will just tab out rather than sift through. Doesn't apply as much to Tumblr if you have an art tag people can look at.

Post regularly, and repost Activity beats everything in the social media game. It's like rolling the dice, and the more you post the more chances you have. You have to have no shame, it's all business baby

Outside of just posting regularly and hoping people reach out to you, it can be hard to know where to look. Here are a few places you can sign up to and post around on.

/r/INAT INAT (I Need A Team) is a subreddit for finding a team to work with. You can post your portfolio here, or browse for people who need artists.

/r/GameDevClassifieds Same as above, but specifically for game-related projects.

Remote Game Jobs / Work With Indies Like Indeed but for game jobs. Browse them often, or get email notifications.

VGen VGen is a website specifically for commissions. You need a code from another verified artist before you can upgrade your account and sell, so ask around on social media or ask your friends. Once your account is upgraded, you can make a 'menu' of services people can purchase, and they send you an offer which you are able to accept, decline, or counter.

The evil websites of doom: Fiverr and Upwork I don't recommend them!! They take a big cut of your profit, and the sites are teeming with NFT and AI people hoping to make a quick buck. The site is also extremely oversaturated and competitive, resulting in a race to the bottom (the cheapest, the fastest, doing the most for the least). Imagine the kind of clients who go to these websites, looking for the cheapest option. But if you're really desperate...

🔸 Community

I do really recommend getting involved in a community. Finding like-minded friends can help you stay motivated to keep drawing. One day, those friends you met when you were just starting out may become your peers in the industry. Making friends is a game changer!

Discord servers Nowadays, the forums of old are mostly abandoned, and people split off into many different servers. Cafe Dot, Pixel Art Discord (PAD), and if you can stomach scrolling past all the AI slop, you can browse Discord servers here.

Twitch Streams Twitch has kind of a bad reputation for being home to some of the more edgy gamers online, but the pixel art community is extremely welcoming and inclusive. Some of the people I met on Twitch are my friends to this day, and we've even worked together on different projects! Browse pixel art streams here, or follow some I recommend: NickWoz, JDZombi, CupOhJoe, GrayLure, LumpyTouch, FrankiePixelShow, MortMort, Sodor, NateyCakes, NyuraKim, ShinySeabass, I could go on for ever really... There are a lot of good eggs on Pixel Art Twitch.

🔸 Other Helpful Websites

Palettes Lospec has a huge collection of user-made palettes, for any artist who has trouble choosing their colours, or just wants to try something fun. Rejected Palettes is full of palettes that didn't quite make it onto Lospec, ran by people who believe there are no bad colours.

The Spriters Resource TSR is an incredible website where users can upload spritesheets and tilesets from games. You can browse for your favourite childhood game, and see how they made it! This website has helped me so much in understanding how game assets come together in a scene.

VGMaps Similar to the above, except there are entire maps laid out how they would be played. This is incredible if you have to do level design, or for mocking up a scene for fun.

Game UI Database Not pixel-art specific, but UI is a very challenging part of graphics, so this site can be a game-changer for finding good references!

Retronator A digital newspaper for pixel-art lovers! New game releases, tutorials, and artworks!

Itch.io A website where people can upload, games, assets, tools... An amazing hub for game devs and game fans alike. A few of my favourite tools: Tiled, PICO-8, Pixel Composer, Juice FX, Magic Pencil for Aseprite

🔸 The End?

This is just part 1 for now, so please drop me a follow to see any more guides I release in the future. I plan on doing some writeups on how I choose colours, how to practise, and more!

I'm not an expert by any means, but everything I did to get to where I am is outlined in this guide. Pixel art is my passion, my job and my hobby! I want pixel art to be recognized everywhere as an art-form, a medium of its own outside of game-art or computer graphics!

This guide took me a long time, and took a lot of research and experience. Consider following me or supporting me if you are feeling generous.

And good luck to all the fledgling pixel artists, I hope you'll continue and have fun. I hope my guide helped you, and don't hesitate to send me an ask if you have any questions! 💕

[gretavanlace]

Softer, Softest

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: sexual content, language, slight angst, penetration, cockwarming, etc

Okay, the quickest of blurbs (under 1k) because I have neglected my josh lane lovelies so, so terribly. I received a request for bad day/comfort josh but now I can’t find the ask. Did I answer it and forget? Perhaps. Who knows? Anyway, this is just a fast fix, but I promise a full length josh fic is right around the corner ❤️

Josh is lounging across the living room couch, battered paperback in hand, when you push open the front door with a clattering of keys and the thunk of your bag hitting the floor.

”Stay there.” You implore, when he moves to stand in greeting. Just the sight of his face, so beautiful and bright-white love, has tears threatening in your eyes.

He notices right away, and his own eyes turn wide with concern, “What is it, dove? What happened?”

”Nothing.” You shake your head adamantly as you kick off your heels, leaving them where they don’t belong in a way you normally never would, “Nothing I want to talk about, anyway. I just had a shitty day, and I missed you.”

”C’mere, baby…” his voice is soothing, lulling you like a melody as he pats his thigh, “Come sit.”

Hiking your pencil skirt up enough to straddle his lap, you settle in against him with a sigh of content. He is warm, and he is home.

His palm strokes up and down your back, wrinkling the silk of your shirt under its weight, “I’m sorry you had a bad day. How can I help? Are you hungry? I could make you something. Or draw a bath with those salts you like, read to you?”

You shake your head against his shoulder with a heavy sigh, “No. This. I want this.”

”Alright,” you can hear the soft smile in his tone, he is pleased to be what you want in your moment of struggle, no matter how small.

Fingers crawling upward, he squeezes at the clip tucked into your hair and releases it, then scratches lightly at your scalp to give you a shiver.

”That feels nice.” You murmur, nuzzling into his neck until he is all you can smell.

”Here,” he whispers, gently nudging your shoulders, “sit up a little.”

You do as he says and study his lovely face as he concentrates on working the buttons of your shirt before pushing it off of you. Next pop the clasps of your bra, and the bliss of being free of it sends another delicate shiver undulating up your spine.

“There we go, dove.” He pets at your hair again and then pulls you back in, blunt nails lazily tracing your back until you feel like glittering liquid in his embrace.

”Thank you, Josh.” Your lips brush against his soft skin as you speak, “I’m sorry.”

”What are you sorry for?” He asks, matching your quiet as his hands continue to coddle you.

”For being a baby.”

”You are a baby,” he reminds you, words filled right up with love. “You’re my baby.”

Suddenly, your heart feels too big for your chest. How did you ever get so lucky? Do you even deserve him? Certainly not…no one does. “I love you. I love you so much. I just want to disappear inside you and live there forever.”

He laughs at this, that tiny giggle that melts you right down to your toes every time it peeks out, “Isn’t it usually the other way around? Me disappearing inside you?”

You giggle to match him, “Classy, Joshua.”

”I am but a caveman,” his fingers swirl circles into the dimples of your lower back, “a disgusting specimen of the lesser species.”

Another laugh flits off your tongue. You know he is trying to cheer you up, and as always…it’s working. “You are no such thing. You’re so good to me.”

A comfortable silence creeps in, but your mind is working overtime. His comment, me disappearing inside you, playing on an endless loop until you can’t stand it any longer.

”Hey,” your voice is meek, timid and unsure, as you toy nervously with the mala beads looped around his neck.

”Hmm?” He pecks a tender kiss into your hair.

”Am I really your baby?” Why do you feel so shy about this? Normally you’re adventurous and even more outgoing than he is, which is really saying something. But right now you feel…inexplicably bashful.

“Of course you’re my baby,” his lips are pressing kisses against your head again as he audibly breathes in the scent of your hair.

“Can you…” you twist those cool, smooth beads around in your fist idly, “I want…”

”You want what, dove?” He soothes your nerves with that loving lilt laced through his tone, “Tell me. I’ll make it happen. I’ll give it to you.”

”I want to be closer to you,” your words breathe into his ear just before your teeth sink gently into his silken lobe.

He knows. He somehow always knows.

“Lift up, baby bird.” His voice, rasping with subdued lust and stark devotion, needles at your heart until your head swims.

You rise up on your knees and watch on as he tugs your skirt up even higher and then pulls at the waistband of his pants.

You lovingly tease him about these khakis and their elastic waist. You call them his ‘dad pants’ just to watch him become uncharacteristically crass and grab his crotch with a ‘I’ve got your daddy right here, dove’. But right now? Right now you’re more than grateful for the lack of buttons and zippers for him to contend with.

With your gaze fixed on his gorgeous cock, he sweeps your panties to the side and eases you down onto it. Hissing as the heat of your cunt envelopes him.

”Is that better, baby?” He asks shakily, once you’re seated in his lap, filled up tight and snug with him.

“Much.”

You relax fully in his arms and it tugs at his heart-strings, making him even more completely fucking gone for you. He would set this whole world on fire if you felt even a little bit chilly.

A haunting, calming song begins to hum out of him, the vibration of it purring from his chest and straight into your heart.

”You sound so pretty,” you praise, cheek pressed just beneath his throat until the weight of the world seems to lift away and disappear.

”And you feel so pretty, dove.” He’s lightly scratching your back again, coddling you into a haze. “Softer than satin absolutely everywhere. Inside and out. Soft here,” the back of his hand brushes down your arm, “softer here,” his thumb kisses your lips, “softest here.” His hips lift ever so lightly.

Without waiting for a response, he begins humming to you again…guiding you gingerly into sleep while he rests, safely nestled inside you.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama @alwaysonthemend

[thefirstknife]

Besties, I need help. Especially people who have a lot of reach on twitter.

Two of my friends had their Destiny names forcibly changed at the roughly the same time. Their Destiny names were "bisexual mara sov" and "trans king oryx." They just logged in and got a pop-up saying that for some "crossplay" reasons their names were changed to a default Guardian####. None of them are using crossplay. Both are on Steam only, if that's important.

One of them posted to Bungie forums and got this reply:

Both of my friends suspect that they were mass reported. Obviously falsely. Their names are not breaking any rules and are in fact canonical statements about the characters. They always play together so if some homophobe sees them, they would report both, so it would make sense why this happened to them at the same time, possibly (the other option is that there was a wave of forced name changes happening recently that caught them both, but for all intents and purposes, their names should not be subject to change).

This upset both of my friends quite a lot. It means there's enough homophobes out there falsely reporting their names. It's also upsetting to think that these reports were reviewed and then accepted. I genuinely don't think there was a manual review. If there was, I think everyone would like to know which rules this is breaking and why.

Another friend tried raising this issue on the official Destiny 2 reddit, but his thread was not approved by moderators because of "politics":

Thanks reddit! /s My friend also messaged the moderators, but to no avail.

The only thing that remains is trying to raise this issue with the community managers somehow, but clearly this isn't possible on reddit, so we want to try twitter. Unfortunately with the way twitter works, unless you have the reach, nobody will see it. One other friend literally made a twitter account for this to tag the Destiny 2 Team, but as expected her attempt has zero visibility. These are her two tweets. I'm not sure what would be better; to just boost this existing tweet or to make new tweets tagging Destiny 2 Team, but if anyone knows and thinks they could help, feel free to do either!

I don't expect much to happen, but I would like to at least try bringing some awareness to this because it's quite upsetting if homophobes can just mass report a completely innocent name, while absolutely gross names are allowed and visible every day in the game. It's also not a good look if these mass reports are acted on without review, and they are worse if they were acted on WITH review.

A lot of people have usernames that are about in-game characters; I think a lot of us would like to get some information on why these aren't allowed anymore. Both of my friends have had them for years.

Anyway, if anyone knows something they could do or has the ability to get this visible somehow, it would be appreciated!

[vhsgoghs]

unknown artist (Simon Riley one shot)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Summary: Simon goes to an art exhibition and finds a painting that catches his attention without knowing that the artist was next to him. note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes. ★ masterlist here

Price had suggested doing new things, and although Simon liked to keep his normal routine, he couldn't say no. There was a temporary exhibition in town and he decided that would be the first activity to change his routine.

He knew absolutely nothing about art. When he was a teenager he had discovered that he didn't draw bad at all, but he had never made an effort to improve or had much interest in it. This didn't make him an expert either, but had enough judgment to recognize something he liked.

There weren't many people and he was grateful for that, he didn't like going out without his mask at all, after a while and the daily work, he had gotten completely used to it, but he couldn't go around the city covering his face as if were a fugitive, that would attract more attention than he would like, especially now that he was just in his free time, however, the hood of his sweatshirt helped a little, it didn't completely cover his face, but it helped a lot.

It took Simon about twenty minutes to realize something: most of the paintings were the same or followed a pattern that prevented him from finding too many differences between them. His eyes focused on the data that listed the names of the artists, only to realize that none of them were the same. So why did they all look the same?

Maybe it had been a bad idea. Maybe he didn't know anything about art and didn't have enough judgment to notice that something was different in all the paintings, because to him all looked the same. Maybe he had great works of art in front of him and couldn't even notice it.

That thought was erased the second he turned to look for the exit.

His eyes fell on one end of the room; there was one painting that barely stood out due to the lack of light in the space, but to Simon's eyes (who saw the rest of the paintings exactly the same) it was what stood out the most in the place.

He approached slowly to get a better look. There was no one around except for a girl who was also looking at the painting.

There were too many details that made him feel dizzy. It was a dark room, only illuminated by the light from outside, there was a crib at one end and a little girl crying on the floor, there were several broken things and a shadow stood out near the door of the room. His mind was trying to find some meaning, maybe something related to a bad childhood.

"Do you like it?" The girl next to him asked, breaking him out of his trance.

Simon blinked and turned to face her. She was shorter than him, so he had to look down. The girl had two braids, her glasses made her eyes look huge and she kept her hands behind her back, she looked like someone completely normal who was just trying to make conversation.

"I think it's the best painting here."

She smiled and nodded before returning her gaze to the painting.

"I think the author was trying to reflect what a bad childhood means; many problems start there. I know the person who painted this didn't exactly have a good childhood."

Something turned in his stomach, he understood that better than anyone, but he didn't want talk to a stranger about it.

"Do you know the author?" He asked, somewhat impressed.

"Yes, actually." She nodded and a small smile formed on her face, a smile of pride.

"Well, I think that person should know that this painting is the only one worth having in this place." Not even himself knew why he had said those words, but if he were the author, he would like to receive a compliment and know that someone appreciated his art. Maybe that girl could tell the autor.

"Would you pay for it?" she asked and for a few seconds she looked at him, but she didn't want to make too much eye contact, so quickly looked away from again.

"If she were a collector, without a doubt."

She nodded again and looked away once more. His words echoed in her head and she grimaced. He had been the first person to come to see the painting, she had been there all day.

"I have to go, but thank you." She gave him a smile and Simon inevitably returned it, although he didn't know why. A mirror reaction, perhaps.

The girl began to walk to the other side of the gallery and Simon's eyes examined the painting for a few seconds, until his mind was able to process the girl's words and realized that she had thanked him for something that he didn't know.

"Wait!" The girl stopped; she had barely moved two meters and Simon's thick voice bounced around the place. The stranger turned and looked at him. "Why do you thank me?"

"I am the artist." She smiled, although she wanted to giggle because he hadn't noticed it. "I'm (Y/N), by the way." It didn't take long for her to turn around to continue on her way and this time he didn't stop her.

His eyes returned to the painting, this time as if he were searching for something different.

He carefully examined every detail of the room, the broken things, the small details, until he noticed it. He looked at the girl in the painting, she had tears in her eyes and seemed to be hiding from something, and that face of hers became familiar to him.

She was the girl in the painting.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That's until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: Tomorrow is beach day for me.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The city streets seem to slant around you, looming outside the car windows, blurring at the edges. Your displacement adds to the effect, making your dizzy, leaving your hands raw as you wring them compulsively. You shrink back into your seat, shying away from the world that seems so scary to you. 

Aunt Bev is completely unbothered. She sings along to her favourite 80s bop as she keeps speed with the rest of traffic. She's always in a sunny mood but that day, she beams even brighter. When you asked why, she was almost stunned by the question; 'well, sweetheart, it's your birthday!' 

You forgot. Or didn't care. You never really celebrate. Your last birthday you can barely discern from all the other grim days. You try not to think of that life you had before Aunt Bev showed up to drag you into the light. You suppose it's probably been just under a year since. 

As if sensing your grey thought, she reaches to turn the volume down. She resumes her firm grip on the wheel and peeks over quickly. She smiles as she stops at the changing light. 

"You get a free scoop. You got your ID?" She says. 

You nod. That's one of the things that's new to you. Before you never even had a library card. Before, it was like you never even existed. As far as the world was concerned, you didn't.  

You look down at the purse in your lap. Your cousin Lena gave it to you. She said she never used it and it suited you better. There was a lot she handed over, though without any real concern. Her and your other cousin, Mason, have so much, they hardly know the difference. 

You stare at the embroidered petals on the black velvet. Lena's wrong. It's too nice for you. 

You tear your hands apart and lift the flap. You slide out the small wallet within. Another inherited piece. You slip out the ID card and stare at the photo. It doesn't really look like you but you've never really been able to recognise yourself. Your features always struck you as unfamiliar. 

You remember when you went to fill out the paperwork. Standing in front of that lens, staring into its black eye, and the sudden flash. You tuck the card away and shove the wallet back in the depths of the purse. 

"Lena's making you a cake," Bev says, "she always loves an excuse to make a mess of my kitchen." 

You try to laugh, it's more a crackle. That's the thing about Aunt Bev, everything is so careless to her, so easy. It all feels so strange to you. You don't fit but no one else seems to notice. 

"Mason should be there but heavens knows he's always late. That's not my doing, by the way, your uncle's always been horrible about time," she scoffs. 

You hum to acknowledge you're listening. The mention of your cousin and uncle make you uneasy. It isn't that they're bad. No, they're so nice, like Lena and Bev, but they're men. You try not to hold that against them but you've never been very comfortable around them. Not that you spent much time around male counterparts. 

"Twenty-five," she preens, "exciting." 

You clear your dry throat, "yep." 

You tuck your chin down and fidget with the strap of the purse. Twenty-five. Halfway through your first decade of adulthood and you still feel like a child. It's nothing to celebrate but Aunt Bev sees everyday as a reason. 

She puts on her signal and waits in the line of cars. You squint through her side and see the bustling of vehicles and people in a large lot. All this for ice cream. You told her you aren't particularly hungry even but she insisted. 

She turns and rolls into the lot, finding a spot amid the tight lines. She sighs and pulls the visor down to check her dyed waves in the mirror. She's always so put together. She tried to help you but you don't like the feel of mascara and you had an allergic reaction to the lip gloss. She didn't try again. 

"Alright, ice cream!" She snaps the visor up, "do you know which flavour you want?" 

You unbuckle your seat belt and shrug, "I don't know what they have." 

"Fair," she tilts her head as she opens her door, "I'm feeling a good old vanilla cone." 

You get out and shut the door. You hook the purse on your shoulder and meet her by the hood. You walk in step with her, peering around at the other people streaming towards the other side of the lot. There’s a large archway leading to a large plot of booths and stands. It’s a market of some sort, the kind you’ve only seen on television. 

“I thought we were getting ice cream,” you say as you grip your purse. 

“They have ice cream. I have another surprise. For your birthday,” she insists, “I wanted to buy you a gift.” 

“Oh? I don’t need one.” 

“I want to,” she says, “me and Lena used to come here all the time. You’ll like it.” 

You don’t argue. You have no right to. She’s doing you a favour. Another one.  

It’s crowded but everyone seems happy. You’re not used to all the noise or clamour. A woman pushes a stroller ahead of you as her husband chases a lively toddler past her. You press your chapped lips together and hold in your unease. 

You’re not the best in these sort of situations. Too many people, too much going on. Just going down to City Hall to get your ID was a lot. The hospital too. Those stiff, cramped plastic chairs and people filling even the space between them. 

You keep your shoulders curled in as you walk with Bev. You end up behind her, following her lead, stopping where she stops, looking at whatever she looks at. She points out a crystal sunflower necklace and you smile and nod. When you see the price, you frown. 

“Maybe something else. I don’t wear jewelry,” you say. You don’t wear it because you never had it. 

“It would be so pretty,” she remarks. 

“No, really, it’s... nice, but not for me.” 

You sidle on. There’s a table of soaps so pungent they make your head cloudy, and candles that look like whipped desserts. You cross to another booth and Bev buys some local honey and apple butter. She likes the honey in her tea in the evening. She always makes you a cup too. 

She shows you the wildflower honey giddily and points you onward. You stick close, following her direction as it keeps your head from spinning. You go to crocheter’s stand with stuffed animals meant for the children shouting and running around more than you. That whale might be cute but you’re not a child anymore, are you? 

You carry on. Bev shows you several other things. A little compact mirror with mother of pearl on the case and a hand-painted wooden chest you could put on your dresser. The dresser she bought in the room she gave you in the house she pays for. 

“You really don’t need to buy my anything. The ice creams good enough,” you say as your doubt bubbles over but it’s too loud for her to hear you. And she’s too distracted. 

Aunt Bev stands on her toes, though she’s already a tall figure, and waves at someone. She grabs your wrist and you wince as she pulls you through the swaths of people. You want to tear away as her grip makes you itch. You don’t like being touched. You’re not used to it. 

She pulls you to another row of stalls and stops before a medley of plants. There's a little chalkboard sign in the corner that reads ‘Cole’s Corner’. Pots line the top of the table, cacti and spider plants and succulents. Their green and lovely and lush. 

Bev lets go and you stare down at them. They’re familiar. They’re pretty. You could smile if your ears weren’t burning from the bustling people around. 

You’ve always known soil, always known the smell of pollen and the tough roots of unwanted weeds. When you weren’t trapped in your room, you were stranded in the garden, searching for bright petals or nursing wilting stems. Out in the dirt, you didn’t have to worry about anything. 

Often Aunt Bev found you in the plot she allotted you among her rose bushes and tulips. The space you made your own with the gnome you painted yourself. That was one of her little crafts she liked to do. She always had an idea for something or the other; waxed-linen to use as reusable bowl covers or tie-dye tee shirts. 

You stare down at a pot of aloe vera. The pot is clay; the base is brown and the top is painted white. You admire the jutting rigid leaves as the chaos around you settles into the background. You lean in closer at the burst of colour behind it, a bunch of pleasant pink begonias. 

“Cole,” your aunt chirps, “busy today.” 

“Sure is,” the man behind the table answers and your eyes flick up as you nearly jump.  

You hadn’t seen him. You were too distracted by the fauna. You don’t know how you didn’t. He’s tall and his blue eyes twinkle as they meet yours. You quickly shy away as the sight of his soft hay brown hair lingers in your mind. 

“This your sister?” He asks. 

“Oh, Cole, don’t be silly. You can flatter me all you like. You’re still a horrible salesman.” 

“Usually works,” he chuckles, “daughter?” 

“You’ve met Lena,” she chides then introduces you by name, “this is my niece. Hon, this is Cole. He grows these all himself.” 

“Ah, the niece,” he snaps his fingers. “I remember.” 

As he turns away you continue to peruse. Your cheeks are burning. You’re suddenly not as content to browse the plants. Not as you feel the sting of that man’s gaze nipping at you. It’s just the way he’d looked at you. Maybe just that he’d even saw you. 

Suddenly, a pot wrapped in burlap is set down in front of you. You examine the yellow petals and peek over at Aunt Bev. She grins and her gaze trails between you and the man. You gulp and turn back to once more consider the flowers. 

“Daylily,” you murmur. 

He leans in and lets out a scratchy noise, “that’s right.” 

You suck in your lower lip. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Your lashes flick up then down as you can’t figure what to do with yourself. 

“You like flowers? Your aunt says you spend all your time in the garden.” 

You shrug, then nod, and once more dart a look over at Aunt Bev. She said all that? To him? Why? 

“How about that one?” She comes closer as she reaches for her purse, “it’s her birthday. I’d like her to get something nice for her.” 

“Can’t go wrong with day lily. They keep bloom for a while but each blossom only lasts about a day,” he turns the pot slightly as he speaks, “symbolic of devotion and forgetting worries. They brighten the place right up.” 

“So?” Aunt Bev nudges you with her elbow. 

You dip your chin, “um, sure, okay. Thank you, Aunt Bev.” 

“Flowers are always a good gift. These ones won’t need much in the winter either. They’ll come right back,” he explains, “is that all?” 

“Yep, I think you’ve bled me dry,” Bev kids as she hands over her money, “I only have so much room left in the backyard.” 

“Ah, don’t got that problem on the farm. Sometimes, I don’t know what to do with all the land,” he counts out her change from a metal box. 

“Must be nice. I swear, living in the city can be so... suffocating,” Bev mopes as she tucks away the coins. “Go on, hon, you wanna carry your flowers?” 

You mutter your acquiescence and step forward to reach for the pot. Before you can, that man, Cole, slides it out of your grasp. “Wait, one minute.” He turns and digs around in a crate hidden beneath the perpendicular table, “it’s your birthday, isn’t it?” He pulls out a ribbon, the same colour as the daylily, “just put a proper bow on.” 

He ties it up in a drooping uneven bow. You peek up at his face as he gives it a helpless smile and shrugs, “not perfect but... happy birthday.” 

He pushes the pot towards you and you cautiously take it. His large hand brushes yours and you quickly bring the flowers against your stomach, recoiling a step back from the table. His fingers fall onto the table and he taps them. 

“Oh, wait,” he turns once more and digs around, this time in a bag on the top of the table, “Marvita brough these over from her booth.” He takes out a small box and lifts the lid to reveal an array of macarons in a variety of hues, “I can’t eat them all.” he shoves the box at you, “please.” 

You don’t move but Bev eagerly accepts one; a pink one. “Go on,” she urges, “live a little, birthday girl.” 

You scrunch your mouth up and slant it this way, then that. You take a cookie; a green one. As you hug the plant with one arm and retract the other, you remember your manners. A tingle runs through the back of your hand, a memory of those lessons, as the ‘thank you’ tumbles off your tongue. 

You look up and once more your eyes meet. You blanch and swiftly turn away. 

“No problem,” he says brightly, “hey, Bev,” he calls as she goes to shuffle away, “next week?” 

“Eh, I don’t know, my husband’s been on me about the spending,” she laughs, “we’ll see.” 

“Oh yeah, see you then,” he snorts, “you too, I hope.” 

“Uh, bye,” you wave with the cookie and hurry past your aunt. You know he’s talking to you but you can’t face him. He’s just being nice and you won’t be back. 

“I love those, they’re so pretty,” Aunt Bev reaches over to touch the petals, “such a nice man, isn’t he?” 

[eww-y-tho]

Colin VS Toxic Masculinity and Why Penelope Had to Reveal Herself as LW

I made a previous post with my two cents on why the idea of them both figuring out a solution to LW was an inferior concept to just Penelope figuring it out on her own, but it was small and I want to go more in-depth.

So, in order to grasp ✨my perspective✨ of the story, we first need to talk about Colin's struggles with toxic masculinity and his inferiority complex.

Naturally, Colin is a hopeless romantic with demisexual tendencies and a more prominent softness compared to other male leads. He's a bit dense (I say with love) until he figures out what he wants and how he's going to get it, and then he is a man of frankly ridiculous action. He's a sensitive boi who has a difficult time fitting in with the other men in his life and being taken seriously by his family, as he puts it himself. An empath, lol.

Honestly, Colin being a "rake" was an integral point of his character arc, and if you haven't picked up on that text by now, I would ask where your media literacy is. Violet put it best, he's putting on armour to protect himself from the way that society treats his character, and naturally, he develops a small, albeit persistent inferiority complex because of this. He doesn't feel like he's providing enough to the people around him because of toxic masculine standards.

I honestly think it's been with him since s1, and Pen is the only person who could bring these thoughts to the surface, which is why it comes to a head in s3 p2.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In his efforts to fit in, he does some questionable things, such as the 2x8 comment, which he regrets as soon as he realizes how much damage it has done to his relationship with Pen. He hangs around with douchebags that he can't stand because he feels a need to conform and "be the kind of man society expects him to be."

But he also absorbs toxic masculine tendencies in the process. His gut instinct of general envy that a woman, Pen, is more successful than him (I hate to put it that bluntly, but that's how I took it), asking for her to quit LW because of these reasons, completely disregarding Pen's autonomy and her perspective by blindly charging forward to stop Cressida's blackmail, among other smaller things.

It's kind of ✨subtle✨, but I know it's there.

Pair that with his inferiority complex and you have a man who is trying to put down Penelope to his level, if that makes sense. By this point, he's already conquered the idea that he needs to conform by the way he cuts off his toxic friend group, but he isn't completely free from the systemic perspective.

Therefore, the idea that Pen would need him in order to find a solution to her problem confirms that toxic masculine trait. Let's be real, Penelope didn't and doesn't need Colin in order to help with LW's problems. She's managed without him before and will continue to manage it by herself. This is not to say that Penelope doesn't have an issue with accepting help from others and feeling the need to handle her problems alone because of her old situation, but she takes the emotionally intelligent move by LITERALLY voicing what she needs from Colin and their relationship.

She needs his companionship, she needs his love, she needs a rock she can come to at the end of the day and be able to depend on. She does not need him to do anything for LW, as it is a part of her identity and an accomplishment that she is proud of and will not let go of. Colin cannot make the demand that she drop everything she's worked for for him.

And that's how relationships work in the real world. You have things you are willing to let go of, and some things you are not. Your partner has to accept those boundaries you have set or leave the relationship, and you shouldn't have to abandon those things in order to get the person of your dreams, because that would make it a toxic relationship from the start and will most likely end in you losing parts of yourself in your partner.

Anyway, all this is to say that Penelope had to get out of her situation by her own means and with full autonomy on what she wanted to do to finish off her character arc.

And Colin needed to realize that his envy is a baseless emotion that simply has no value compared to the woman he knows her as. A strong, independent woman who doesn't need him to do things for her. He also needed to humble himself and see the way that LW is not competing with him, but a part of her. They both demonstrate that what they need from the relationship is not transactional in nature, but rather a shared bond powered by love.

I understand the idea of wanting them to both find a way out of the blackmail as a team, but again, that's explicitly not what they need from each other, and why I think this perspective is again a misunderstanding of their character arcs.

I think I've articulated this the best way I can, but I do know I wanted to say some other things. I'm tired tho, so yeah, ending it here.

Hopefully, this made sense.

Bai!

[moirindeclermont]

Daily thread about BridgertonS3 and I want to talk about so many things: trauma, the power of representation, the wedding, that 4 second scene at the end, but my mind is still on the mirror scene... So, let's do part 2: I love everything, but every time I watch it (my rewatch count shall not be revealed) what captivates me the most are still Pen's expressions.

Again, I'm in absolute awe of Nicola and her talent, because this is the perfect mix between lust, desire, nerves and innocence. Her expressions, sounds, non verbal language... I can't stop watching it.

But I want to do a deep dive into her thoughts during the scene: I know a thing or two about yearning, and the idea of having the person I want most in the word, saying they love me and then making me seen what they see in me, I'd already pass out on the floor.

Knowing what we know about Pen, how she was treated and the obstacles tmshe has faced, I bet the being in front of a mirror with Colin, while they are about to become intimate, must be like a dream coming true, only better.

Of course there are nerves and agitation, but it's like going on a rollercoaster (for those who enjoy it), it's the adrenaline when you're about to go on stage, it's the out of the body experience that must come with be able to finally cross that bridge with the person you love most.

And I love that she is active in the experience as well. Asking for direction, being supported but without being passive. She desires this. Of course she does. But in a world where even now, women sexuality is often reduced and put on a pedestal, this is revolutionary. She likes being there with Colin. She's experiencing pleasure for the second time in her life and she loves it.

I can't get enough of her expression after the penetration. That split second in which you can see her thinking "oh, this is why people do this". How her entire body comes to life, and even in that moment, she is not passive.

She tries to get closer to Colin, lust in her eyes, the desire finally free to flow.

It was indeed perfect. And even the "can we do it again?" Is still laced with the feeling of discovery. She had a taste and now she wants more. As. She. Should.

And for us, the audience, it is captivating and incredibly powerful to see a woman enjoy herself and her lover, no question, no judgement, no conseguence, even when we know she is LW and this secret is still between them.

It is just a first time. Except, it's not just that. Because this has never been the standard for first time, and maybe Bridgerton can help change that. That, would be a feature indeed!

Ps: I saved so many gifs Idk who did what, if you recognize yours, write me and I'll credit you

First gif: @myargalargan

[epiphainie]

okay bear with me here because i'm not really sure where i'm going with this one but i've been thinking about buck asking tommy to madney's wedding for so long and like, it's such a buck thing, right? we make fun of tommy's initial reaction because he's experiencing the Evan Buckley Experience full-force and from the front seat for the first time. buck acts on his emotions all the time, he's instinctive, he's impulsive. even if he called tommy to get coffee that day with the forethought of asking him to be his date at his sister's wedding, it's still such a buck thing to do: it's extreme, it's a major jump, it's something probably not advised by any dating columns, and likely something none of the other characters would ever do.

yet i find it so different to every other time we've seen buck act Big because of Emotions.

we see buck be impulsive and emotionally-driven in so many different flavors: as a child to get his parents' attention (him accidentally hurting eddie is very reminiscent of this to me), on the job when he's being reckless to save someone's life, when he sues the fire department because he feels pushed out of his job, when he goes against the law and athena's word and tries to find maddie and doug, when he finds red's the one that got away etc.

but rarely do we see him take big actions driven by his emotions when it comes to his romantic relationships. the only thing i can think of him is following taylor to her dad's hearing because he's worried about her. and of course, the only major commitment/extreme decision he's taken in a relationship when he asks her to move in. because he fears she'll leave him if she learns about him and lucy kissing. and then later on when he tells her anyway on the day she moves in, after basically trapping her, because he can't deal with the subsequent guilt.

i don't like assigning positive/negative values to emotions but this is my way of saying how for the most part when we see buck act big and impulsive like this, the motivation comes from a fraught place. because he feels neglected by his parents, because the fear and the subsequent anger over losing his job which at that point he considers the only thing he has, because the fear and worry he feels over maddie, because the concern over taylor re: her dad. even him helping red is him projecting his own fears about his future on the guy. this is especially true regarding all the lucy/moving-in fiasco.

which brings me to my point about how him wanting to blow up the walls of his closet and introduce tommy to his friends/family only after one kiss and a date feels different. it's buck at his most buck; it's out of pocket, it's major, it bamboozles even cool cucumber tommy for a second. it's also probably the first time we see buck act like this driven by feelings of not fear, worry, anger, sadness, but by him feeling like he's ready for something and wanting it with tommy. it's such a testament to the intensity of his feelings. he's not even a hothead like that anymore, he's matured, but here he is counting on a feeling and jumping big like we've never seen him do on the show before, let alone in his romantic relationships. i adore it because it's so buck but i also adore it because it's so buck after seven seasons of growth and because of him looking forward to something, driven by feelings of "i kinda can't stop thinking about him" and "i'm free" and "that something could be with you."

[hedwig221b]

Do you have any fic recs that involve chasing? Like Derek gives in to the urge to run after stiles and catch him?

I kind of didn't really understand what you were asking lol so here are a few types of "chase" fics:

Mating Run Fics:

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles. But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

The Cursed Wolf by SinQueen69

2023 Suggestion Anon Wanted: Feral alpha Derek, who has been cursed and got in that feral state. The only way to lift the curse is the "sacrifice" of a pure heart. And Virgin Omega Stiles is willing to help him but the ritual has to be a mating run.

When Things Go Right by SylvieW

Stiles is nervous for the mating run. What if his soulmate is disappointed? Scott’s convinced that Allison will catch him, but Stiles isn’t so sure of his best friend’s girl, and the results could be upsetting for everyone.

Angel Choirs and Magic by LadyDrace

Derek has been very, very patient, and has shown frankly incredible self-control in the face of brutal teasing and flirting for two months. But now it's time for the mating run, and he's about to get his reward.

Except for how maybe it's actually Stiles getting a treat. Win/win.

Stiles gets kidnapped and Derek gives a chase:

Out of Focus by exclamation

Stiles was taken prisoner by a coven of witches. Now his only chance of getting home is if he learns how to control his own magic… and stops blowing stuff up by accident. With surging power inside him that he can't restrain, Stiles must deal with memories of the nogitsune, and fears that he might end up hurting those he cares about.

Meanwhile, his family and friends don't even know if he's alive. His father desperately searches for answers, and Derek will do anything in his power to find Stiles, even if it means asking an Argent for help.

of gods & monsters by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”

Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”

Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.

Stiles runs away and Derek catches his ass:

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

If you wanted fics with their own chasing scenes, I am sorry to inform you that I have a memory of a goldfish, and do not remember any in particular, though I am sure they exist somewhere in the wild. If someone knows some, please, feel free to add!

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut

[haveihitanerve]

Jason is tims teacher. He notices the boy has some bruises and is rarely ever well rested. He wishes to speak to tim's parents about this

“Tim, could I speak with you a moment?” Jason called out as students filed past his desk to head home for the day. Tim froze, one foot already hovering in the doorway to leave, and he looked as though he was contemplating bolting, but with a sigh his foot stepped back inside and he made his way over to Jason’s desk. “Yeah professor?” He asked, fidgeting with his sleeve. “You aren’t in trouble Tim.” Jason said pleasantly, smiling. “I was actually wanting to ask if I could plan a parent teacher conference with your mother or father.” Tim stared at him wide eyed. “But I haven’t done anything!” He exclaimed in alarm. Jason raised a placating hand, slightly alarmed by the immediate response. “I know you haven’t Tim.” He soothed. “But parent teacher conferences are just a mandatory thing that we do sometimes.” That was a lie. Really Jason just wanted to talk to Tim’s parents. He hadn’t had this conversation with any of his other students. Tim was his star pupil, really. But the boy walked into his class only running on coffee and at best two hours of sleep, and Jason swore he spotted bruises on the boy's wrists and sides sometimes, when his tshirt rode up. Tim swallowed. “Okay.” He relented, relaxing slightly. “But um.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “My mother and father won’t show up.” He muttered awkwardly. Jason frowned. Tim opened his mouth as though to offer a solution, then hesitated, closing it again.  “Is there anyone else?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. Tim deflated, like Jason asking him meant he had to reveal it. “Um yeah. My- my mentor. He’ll show up.” He cleared his throat. “Can I have his number?” Jason asked. Tim nodded sullenly and rattled off the number by heart, Jason scrambling to grab a pen and paper to scrawl it down. “Thank you. I’ll plan a meeting.” Tim nodded again and turned to leave. “And Tim?” Tim winced, but turned back. “Yeah Prof?” “You’re not in trouble.” Jason promised. In fact, if his suspicions were correct, his mentor was the one who would be in trouble. Tim just nodded again and left before he could be called back again. Jason sighed, slumping in his chair. “No time like the present.” He muttered, picking up his phone. It was better to get the confrontation done sooner rather than later, and help his student out if he could. His mentor wasn’t exactly the person Jason had been expecting to speak to, but he had heard Tim mention in passing that he lived with the man now, and hadn’t lived with his parents for a while. The person on the other end picked up on the second ring. “Hello? What’s wrong? Is everything alright?” Jason frowned, sitting up straight in his chair. That was an unusual way to answer the school phone call. “Hello?” The voice got more agitated. “Yes hello. This is Tim teacher, Jason Todd.” “Yes yes hello. Is Tim alright?” The man asked. Or rather, demanded. “Tim is fine.” Jason soothed. “I was calling to schedule a parent teacher conference meeting with you, actually. Your son hasn't done anything wrong i promise.” jason winced as he realized Tim had said both his mother and father wouldn't come, but the man on the other end didn't even wait a second before responding, as though used to it. “Oh.” He could hear the man relax on the other end, if not fully. “Okay. Of course. When should I come in.” Jason cringed. ‘No time like the present’ he reminded himself. “I’m free right now, if you’d like to come to the school.” There was the sound of paper being flipped and then a hum. “Yes that works. I’ll be there in ten. Good day Mr. Todd.” And he hung up. Jason released a breath, dropping the phone back onto its port. 

About eight minutes later there was a faint tap on the door. “Come in.” Jason called, leaning back in his chair. He regretted it a moment later as Bruce Fucking Wayne stepped into the room. Jason almost fell out of his chair, but he caught himself at the last second, jumping to his feet, smoothing out his jacket. The man filled the doorframe with his wide, massive shoulders, and even jason, a proud 6’4 felt like a dwarf compared to him. “Mr. Wayne.” he greeted in surprise. “Nice to meet you, to what do i owe the pleasure?” Bruce sent him a restrained smiled, shaking his hand. Jason was surprised to find his hand was rough and calloused, and his handshake was firm and strong. “The pleasure is all mine.” he said smoothly, his eyes scanned the room before settling back on jason. “Im here about tim?” Jason was so surprised he just blinked a few times in silence, staring up at the mountain that was Bruce Wayne. “T-tim?” Jason stuttered. “Yo-you're tims-?” he couldn't finish the sentence because he quite honestly didn't know what to say. Bruce managed a smile, although it seemed more like a grimace. “Yes. Im tim's dad.” he sat down in the seat opposite jasons. “What did you wish to discuss? His grades are good as far as i can tell, and i know hes not that into school but it cant be that bad can it?” Jason sat in his seat. This would be- interesting. ‘Doesn't matter if hes rich. Hes a prick for treating tim like that.” jason hissed inside himself. He straightened. “Mr. wayne im actually here to talk about you.” Bruce blinked, but didn't show any more outward sign of surprise. In fact, jason swore he saw resignation flit over the older mans face before it was concealed beneath a mask. “Oh?” Bruce asked dully. “And what, exactly, would you like to speak about?” “Tim comes into my classroom everyday and is always tired. He has dark circles under his eyes and i have seen bruises on his wrists and sides that he tries very hard to hide.” Jason leveled his hardest glare on the billionaire. “What do you know about that?” He watched the other man, but besides mild confusion and then ease, no other emotion crossed bruces face. Either the rich boy was better at hiding his facial expressions than jason would have thought, or there really was nothing to worry about. “Tim has a bad sleep schedule.” Bruce apologized, sitting up straighter. “I try to get him to go to bed earlier but he always stays up later than me and is awake before i am.” He chuckled awkwardly. “If its interrupting with your teaching im sorry, i will discuss it with him.” he cleared his throat. “As for the bruises, i have six other children, you might see them around the school sometimes, and,” he laughed again. “Things can get a little rough between the seven of them. Its nothing to worry about.” he assured. “But i can understand why it might concern you.” “oh.” jason's face flamed in embarrassment. He had watched the billionaire throughout his entire explanation, and it all seemed very plausible. “I-im sorry.” he stammered. This was not good. To get on a rich boys bad side for yelling at him because of child mishandling was always a sure fire way to disappear. To jason's surprise though, bruce actually smiled. “Its not a problem. Im grateful that at least one of his teachers cares enough to ask about it, and protect him if need be. Thank you. Its good to know someone is keeping an eye on him here when i cant.” Jason flushed even darker under the billionaires thanks. “Its no problem.” he muttered awkwardly. Bruce got to his feet. “Is that all you wished to discuss?” he asked. Jason nodded. “Yes. thank you for coming on such short notice.” bruce smiled. “For my kids? Anytime.” he nodded once. “Good day Mr. Todd.” “goodbye.” jason muttered, but the billionaire was already out the door. 

[clotpolesonly]

Declan's hair in tvTRC; a dissection

ok i'm sure you guys have been waiting with bated breath for me to weigh in on this particular subject (lol) but i needed a hot minute to collect my thoughts on the matter. turns out i've got quite a few, go figure.

first things first: i am contractually obligated to say it's a goddamn travesty of a departure from canon to make Declan fucking BLOND and why the FUCK did they do that??? i was screaming in dms the second he showed up on screen, my sister can attest to how far i threw my phone across the couch in my outrage. i mean, honestly who suggested that?? turn on ur location i just wanna talk

-deep breath-

okay got that out of my system

so we all knew immediately that it was stupid as shit and entirely unnecessary...............but i've got a confession to make

i don't hate it

at least, not anymore. i'm actually kinda fascinated by what they've done here and what it adds to Declan's character/what it says about him psychologically. especially because he doesn't stay blond -- his hair is only like that for a little under half of the first season, though it's unclear how long he's had it like that before (tv)canon starts.

what the show has done here is given Declan a relationship with his hair that's not entirely dissimilar to the one that Ronan has. it's never said explicitly i don't think, in either the books or the show, that Ronan shaved his hair off because 1) he looks too much like his dad with it long and 2) it's something that he can control, but it very much comes through anyway, and the same applies to Declan here.

both boys -- all three boys, actually, but Ronan and Declan especially, more than Matthew -- are made in Niall's image. they resemble him very strongly. they look in the mirror and, for better or for worse, they see their father, and that's something that becomes really fucked up and complicated when your father is murdered, and when you hate him, and when you're afraid of becoming him, and when you miss him.

Ronan dealt with it one way (shaving it all off, making himself unique) and Declan here dealt with it another way (distancing himself from his father, yes, but also doing it in a way that made him more similar to Matthew). (and to his mother, which is a point i'll come back to later; you know the scene i'm talking about.)

Declan is a control freak of epic proportions, we all know this, and seeing it manifest in changes to his hair is not remarkable i don't think, esp in conjunction with how meticulously he manages his wardrobe. everything in his life feels outside of his control, so he grasps at what he can to feel secure. that's textbook.

then he fights with Ronan. most of the scene plays out more or less as it does in the book, but i want to draw your attention this bit of dialogue --

Gansey: "Why are you even here?" Declan: "I don't need to explain myself to you, I can go wherever I like. Free country and all." Ronan: "Then you're free to go somewhere else." Gansey: "Ronan... Declan, just go." Declan: "He's failing almost all his classes. What, Ronan, did you think I didn't know? Your teachers call me every time you skip class, dumbass, you keep going like this and you're going to -- " [Ronan tries to punch him again, Gansey intervenes] Gansey: "That's enough, both of you! Look, Declan, I'm not saying you're wrong, but you are not Niall Lynch, and you never will be." Ronan: [scoffs] "Not looking like that. You and your bimbo girlfriend get a 2-for-1 special at the salon?" Gansey: "Ronan, knock it off." Declan: "Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you." Ronan: "Well, I don't. And I'll never forgive you."

the salon comment is a petty side swipe that made me snortlaugh ngl, but it's also a direct acknowledgement from Ronan that what Declan is doing with his hair is Declan, in his own way, trying to distance himself from Niall while simultaneously trying (and failing) to fill his shoes. he's shining a spotlight on Declan's biggest source of internal conflict in a way that's both casually cruel (Ronan's specialty tbh) and humiliatingly dismissive. what an effective jab at someone like Declan who is, underneath his deliberately unremarkable exterior, every bit as proud as Ronan is. he's trying to be Niall and he's failing so badly even Gansey's begging him to stop, and he's trying to be Not Niall and he's so obvious about it as to be pathetic and laughable.

it's notable that the blond doesn't stay much longer. we only see it once more -- delivering his ultimatum to Ronan through Adam as he gatekeeps Declan at monmouth, a confrontation i must note is between a natural blond (Adam) and a fake one (Declan), and no words are exchanged about it but we do get a rather pointed look at the hair from Adam right before he delivers his line about fighting and it being "Ronan's thing" that makes Declan back off -- before we get to the biggest departure from Declan's canon arc and what i really want to talk about:

✨ the dorm room dye job ✨

this is, honestly, my favorite non-book-canon scene in this adaptation so far. that probably does not surprise anyone, because i am me, but hear me out!!!

let's run through what we actually get in this scene:

- Matthew asking Declan what he, Matthew, is doing in the morning, and Declan rattling off Matthew's entire schedule for the week, all while nagging him through his bedtime routine - Declan texting Ronan repeatedly and getting left on read - Declan trying and failing to sleep (intercut with Ronan and Gansey sharing insomnia time), growing more restless and texting Ronan some more until Ronan blocks his number and the texts stop being delivered - Declan going to their suite's bathroom to dig out a cheap dusty box of hair dye from the back of the cabinet and rushing through the process of mixing and applying it while Matthew sleeps - Declan staring at himself in the mirror and then smearing dye across his reflection

obviously, exactly none of this is book canon, and i don't not understand why some fans are crying foul on screentime they consider "wasted". should priority have been given to book canon elements and scenes? yeah, probably, and there are things that didn't make it into the show that i would've been glad to sacrifice this scene for, HOWEVER i want to talk about why this scene, as presented, within this slightly alternate show canon, is worth its screen time imo.

the show is really making an effort toward expanding the characters and relationships outside the insular gangsey -- the fox way ladies and the Gansey family have both gotten subplots, and much more attention is being paid to the Lynch bros than we got canonically this early in TRC.

without being inside the POVs of Ronan's friends like we are in the books, it makes sense that we get to see Declan more objectively for the overburdened teenager that he is. we get to actually SEE him being relied upon to manage and parent Matthew, day and night, no breaks. sharing even a bedroom with him, there is no reprieve and no retreat from that responsibility.

and we see him trying to manage Ronan too, which is overbearing and aggressive, yes, but we also see his preoccupation and his mounting anxiety. the little tics like him tapping his thumb against his thigh and the breathing technique he employees (the same one that Ronan uses in ep 2). unlike when they were brawling in the parking lot, Declan defends Ronan to Matthew ("he probably just lost his phone again" despite all of his messages being read). (this is a characterization tidbit described in Greywaren actually, in case any viewers haven't read TD3, that Declan was always far more understanding of Ronan and his behavior to Matthew than he was in confrontations with Ronan himself).

i digress, anyway, Declan tries repeatedly to get through to Ronan until the messages stop being delivered and Declan (correctly) assumes that Ronan has blocked his number (again).

all that nervous energy boils over and Declan beelines for the bathroom. he obviously knows that the box of dye is in there, he goes right for it. it's ambiguous how long it's been there -- either it was there before they moved into this room, in which case it may have been what inspired Declan to bleach his hair in the first place, or he may have bought it himself months ago and decided not to use it (probably because it's cheap and he usually has higher standards than that lol, he'd rather get it done professionally).

but this is not a moment for standards. this is an impulse. it's rushed and clumsy and jittery. he tears the box getting it open. he fumbles the little conditioner thing. he tosses the instructions aside with barely a glance. his phone is right there on the kitchen counter, always in the frame but face down, conspicuous in just how much Ronan is not texting him back.

this is, as mentioned up top, a bid for control. Ronan is uncontrollable, a variable he cannot account for and a loved one he cannot protect, and so Declan does what a lot of teenagers in fucked up circumstances do -- fucks with his hair before he can think better of it.

the only thing that slows him down is dropping the bottle, which almost wakes Matthew up. Matthew, right over Declan's shoulder in the mirror. Matthew, always in the frame just like the silent phone, always on Declan's mind, never allowed to more than an arm's length away.

Matthew is in the background of this entire scene. every shot of Declan's breakdown, Matthew is there, if indistinctly.

and there's something else about the cinematography that really elevates this scene, and that's the fact that, once Declan enters the bathroom, the entire thing is shot through the mirror. we don't get another shot of Declan straight on to the camera in this episode, we only see his face in reflection. we are seeing Declan seeing himself, which is perhaps the truest way to view him, especially in this moment.

remember that this was catalyzed primarily by Ronan's judgment (and Adam's, and Gansey's). Ronan ridiculed Declan for his hair a few episodes ago, not just for its own sake because it looks ridiculous but specifically in conjunction with talk of their father and Declan's inability to fill his shoes. Ronan essentially called Declan a failure and a phony, and the hair now symbolizes both.

Declan is so so conscious of how he is perceived, constantly thinking of himself within the context of how others think of him rather than engaging in actual self-knowledge. he is his own panopticon and this scene showcases that EXCELLENTLY.

which makes this messy breakdown so interesting, because it is unobserved by anyone but himself and, in the end, he obscures even that. he blacks his hair with bare hands (buddy, that's gonna stain so noticeably afkdjh) and then stands there, staring into the mirror at his own reflection -- at his own failure to perform the identity he's chosen for himself -- until he can't bear to see it anymore, and then he smears the dye along the mirror to block it all out. all that messiness, that vulnerability, hidden even from his own eyes.

and of course i need to touch on the identity of it all. of course i do!! because hair color means something in the Lynch family!! the resemblance the older boys have for Niall is so integral to the family dynamic and how they all relate to and interact with each other. the boys have daddy issues out the wazoo, and you would too if you were Made In Your Father's Image.

for Ronan, looking like dad was a source of pride for a long time, and is now a source of pain. but for Declan, looking like dad is equal parts pain and shame. everything Declan is, so much of his facade, was deliberately constructed to be different from his father -- Niall was reckless, so Declan is careful. Niall was loud, so Declan is staid. Niall was volatile, so Declan is predictable. Niall was eye-catching, so Declan is invisible.

and now, Niall was a brunet, so Declan is blond. it's another step along the road of rebellion against the legacy he inherited. Niall claims god broke the mold, but Declan knows just how similar they are, both physically and in their natural inclinations (though we haven't gotten into the latter much yet in the show). his father is not a man he respected and he is deeply afraid of being too much like him.

Declan bleaching his hair was a reaction to that, and it was a reasonable one, but it was also fundamentally, in both Declan's eyes and Ronan's, a disavowal of his connection to and place in the family. in rejecting his resemblance to dad (and therefore Ronan), Declan functionally declared himself Not A Lynch.

which makes this, dying his hair dark again, a bit of a reclamation? in a way? or, no. that would feel triumphant, and this scene has the definite air of tragedy.

maybe i should say it's a concession instead. the waving of a white flag. it's an admission that trying to disavow his family is a losing game. he cannot cover up what he is. no amount of bleach can wash away his father's blood in his veins. he will never be Niall Lynch, but he will always be Niall Lynch's son, for better or for worse, and there's no point in trying to pretend otherwise.

this scene is Declan giving up on his last desperate bid for an identity separate from the legacy he inherited. there's irony there, and honestly i find it very in keeping with what we get from him in some of the flashback details in TD3. i wrote a meta a while ago about the moth's wooden box and the alexandria townhouse both as symbols of Declan's complicity in his own oppression as a child -- ie, cages that Declan chose to step into of his own volition, because feeling powerless is worse than feeling trapped.

in this context, dying his hair dark again feels very similar. he's feeling powerless and so he makes the choice to figuratively reclaim his position in the family, even if that position is and has always been awful and traumatizing and something he's spent his entire life trying to break free from, because the alternative is to acknowledge that there is nothing that he can do to free himself. he would rather be complicit than helpless.

there may or may not be something to unpack with Declan choosing blond, especially that shade rather than something that would've been more aesthetically fitting for him like a cooler platinum shade. namely that, in distancing himself from his resemblance to Niall, he actually strengthened his resemblance to Matthew and also to Aurora. he could've dyed his hair some middling shade of brown and honestly it would've been far more in line with his desire to be bland and pedestrian, but he chose a hair color that aligned with the other half of his family (the dreamt half of his family).

was it some subconscious desire to replace their mother for Matthew's sake? Matthew was Aurora's favorite, he was the closest to her and undoubtedly the one who took her loss the hardest in the immediate aftermath, and we know that Declan took up the kinds of duties that used to be Aurora's like cooking Matthew good meals and being his emotional support (as best he could).

the fact of Declan taking on Aurora's most defining feature in the aftermath of her falling asleep (to him, functionally, her death) and his staunch refusal recognize her humanity (such as it is) or to engage with her memory is really haunting, imo. honestly, Aurora and his relationship with her is such an underrated factor in Declan's psychology, she had such an enormous impact on him that's rarely discussed in the detail it deserves. here it's like his feelings about her are leaking out of him subconsciously even as he's trying his damnedest to repress them.

or, hell, idk, that might be reading too much into it. it may just have been that blond was as far from his natural color as he could get.

but honestly it doesn't feel coincidental. nothing in this arc does, which surprised the hell out of me as i was watching. "Declan is blond now actually" is the kind of cracky nonsense that should've had me flipping tables, but it turns out, when it's a concept that's actually executed with thought and attention to detail and a real understanding of the character, blond!Declan is something that can actually be so personal.

so

thank you for coming on this journey with me. if you read this far, your brainrot is probably nearly as strong as mine is for writing it. i might write another one later digging into some more of the details from the back half of season 1, but for now, i need to go outside and touch some grass or something. stay tuned i guess. <3

[yilinggusu]

Rak is down at the bottom of the ocean when he has flashback of his family and we find out why he doesn't believe in love. His mother paid his father to love him and still his father abandoned both of them. Even after Rak's father tells Rak's mother he will stay if she pays him it wasn't enough for Rak's father to stay. Then Rak is warned by his mother to never love anyone unless he wants to end up abandoned and alone even after paying someone to stay. The reminder of all of that is enough to send Rak into a panic because he is more or less doing the same thing with Mut by paying for his services.

Boxed in by the cave entrance walls and the weight of the ocean pressing down on him he starts to panic as he remembers his mother fighting with his father. He remembers how his mother asks his father why can't he love her or his son. Rak's father tells her to pay him if she wants him to stay. Rak has a front row seat to the fight where he witnesses his mother say she gave his father everything she had and ask if he will abandon the two of them. Neither parent cares that Rak is seeing all of this while crying on the sofa. Rak remembers his mother's warning of to never love anyone if he doesn't want to end up like her.

It's enough to make Rak freeze and his air regulator (I don't know if that's what they are called) falls out of his mouth. Rak realizes what happened and he starts to panic before he starts to drown. The fact that he is all alone when it happens could symbolizes how Rak felt every day for a long time. All alone with no one to care about him or to help him when he needs it. Everyday he felt suffocated from the weight of his past along with the hurt and pain of going through what he went through at a young age.

But this time he is not alone because then we see Mut who finds Rak in a panic and drowning. Mut reaches Rak just in time to save him from drowning. Mut literally gives him oxygen by breathing into his mouth so Rak can breathe before giving Rak his regulator back so he can put it into his mouth. When Rak calms down Mut helps Rak put his goggles back on before checking if he is okay.

While Mut gives Rak mouth-to-mouth resuscitation the song lyrics can help convey what Rak is feeling and thinking.

'No matter how much I want to love you, my heart is afraid of reopening old wounds, despite my fears, deep down inside, I still hope that you won't reopen my old wounds'

It's fitting that the lyrics play over the scene where Mut helps Rak get his regulator into his mouth and his goggles back on his head. Deep down somewhere within himself Rak is not willing to admit or acknowledge that he wants Mut to love him, he wants to love Mut but Rak is so afraid of history repeating itself that he keeps Mut at a distance. It's probably why he 'pays' Rak for his services. He thinks Mut will only stay with him if he pays him. That if he pays Mut for his services like the way he asked Mut in the shower how much would he have to pay for Mut to sleep with him. Oh my poor Rak did you not see the way Mut looked at you in that shower when he said that he's expensive. The man was willing to fuck you for free because he's got it bad for you but he's willing to go along with what you want. Anyways back to this topic.

When Rak finally calms down and can breathe properly he then gives Mut the signal that he's good to go. Mut is right there in Rak's moment of need to help Rak when he needs it.

Mut tightly holds Rak's scuba tank strap before he pulls him up with him towards the surface and does not let him go. Rak grabs onto Mut's arm like it's a lifeline. Not only was Rak physically drowning but he has been emotionally drowning for years with no one to help him until now. When Mut finds Rak he not only pulls Rak out of that dark place he is in not just physically but also emotionally. As Mut starts to swim up to the surface Rak tightly holds onto Mut's arm as they swim up to the surface. Mut has no intention of ever letting Rak go and will help Rak out of that dark place he is in emotionally. They just don't know it yet.

How long has Rak been alone with those thoughts of feeling abandoned and alone. He doesn't believe in love and thinks no one will ever love him unless he pays for it just like his mother did all those years ago. To Rak love is a transaction. It's something to be bought and it can also used against you along with bringing so much pain leading to eventual abandonment. To Rak love means ending up alone and unloved and that he's only worth being with for his money and wealth. He believes that love is not real and it something that only belongs in his novels. He's always thinking of his mother's warning to not love anyone if he doesn't want to end up like her and his sister.

At the bottom of the ocean it's no wonder those flashback came out of nowhere. Things like that always do even when you least expect it or in a place you think it would never happen but it does. The brain is strange like that especially when it comes to past trauma.

Also at an underwater cave entrance the currents are very turbulent and the pressure of being so far down below the surface can be very daunting. The crushing silence can make your thoughts much louder making you remember the things you don't want to remember.

Rak probably feels that crushing weight on him every day. He wants love just not the kind his mother put up with for years. If he didn't want love then why does he write about it in his novels but says he doesn't believe in it. Then Mut comes into his life and willingly accepts Rak's terms and conditions and payments making Rak feel like history is repeating itself. It's another reason why he probably had those memories and had a panic attack. They always happen when you least expect it.

When Mut finds Rak at the bottom of the ocean Mut helps him breathe again both literally and figuratively. Rak grabs onto Mut's arm like it's a life line as they swim up to the surface. They swim up into the light and leave the darkness of the bottom of the ocean behind. The darkness of the bottom of the ocean is a symbolism of Rak's state of mind. He's been trapped at the bottom of an ocean for his whole life only the ocean is in his mind. Until now.

On the boat Mut asks Rak if he okay. Mut looks concerned and genuinely worried about Rak because he clearly sees how shaken up Rak is after what just happened. Mut doesn't reprimand Rak for going down alone. He tells Rak he knows that he's a certified diver but still gently reminds Rak that amateurs should never go down alone and to go with a friend. My guess is that Rak is so used to being alone and doing things by himself for a long time that he didn't wait for Mut so Rak went ahead thinking he would be okay. Hyper-independence is very real and we can push people away thinking we don't need anyone especially their help so we keep people at a distance.

When Mut asks Rak why he panicked Rak just changes the conversation because it's too real to talk about what happened before Mut found him at the bottom of the ocean. Rak deflects and asks Mut why is he called Mahasamut. Mut sees Rak's deflection for what it is and goes with it so laughs as they fall into their playful bickering over their names. Mut tells Rak it's because their names rhyme while Rak tells him their names don't rhyme and asks him did he fail Thai. Mut laughs it off and becomes so warm and tender towards Rak that it's very obvious that Mut likes and cares for Rak a lot. Mut shows Rak a warmth that Rak has never received in his whole life until now.

Rak is shocked at Mut making a play on their names by telling Rak that he has to love him. Mut says Tongrak's name which means must love before he points at himself and says Mahasamut which means ocean. Since Mut never does anything by halves and it's only episode two he tells Rak you must love me. Mut clearly likes Rak a lot and I think Fort confirmed that Mut liked Rak straight away but I could be wrong on that. I'm so glad they changed the 'you have to love me' scene from the Love Sea trailer from the beach to the boat because this one is a million times better and it has so much more impact after what happened in the ocean.

Rak as usual is floored by Mut's comment and he looks genuinely shocked at Mut telling him that he has to love the ocean meaning Rak has to love Mut. It's all just too much for Rak who falls back into deflecting and defensively points out to Mut that love is just a figment of our imagination. Rak is so uncomfortable and afraid over Mut's words and actions because he doesn't think all of that is possible or that it's possible for Mut to love him unconditionally and not expect anything in return. Rak also thinks it's not possible for Mut to love him because Mut only wants something in return which is his money. Rak feels like Mut is getting too close for comfort. It leaves Rak visibly uncomfortable and he deflects by standing up and telling Mut that he's hungry before walking away. He doesn't see Mut watching him with a disappointed look on his face. Mut knows something is up with Rak but he doesn't know what it is yet and he knows Rak isn't going to tell him either.

While Rak thinks love isn't real and a figment of our imaginations he also thinks that affection can only be received when it's bought just like his mother bought his father's love. Rak may write romance novels but he thinks unconditional love isn't real and belongs in fiction. Rak thinks Mut only stays around him because Rak is paying him and there is no way Mut could ever have genuine feelings for him at all. It will be interesting to see how it all turns out over the next eight episodes. Fort and Peat did absolutely amazing in this episode especially with the underwater scenes and I know they will continue to be amazing for the rest of the series.

[watchyoubloom]

summer nights | drw x f!reader

Summary: Danny’s wearing those short shorts again. (That’s it. That’s the plot.)

(minors dni. 18+. basically just smut and fluff and lots of dialogue idk. all things considered, it’s *tame* but it is still just pwp so….do with that what you will.)

A/N: here i am, over a year later, with another danny fic 🫣 he’s just!!!! stuck in my brain, okay?!

________________________________________________________

It's late by the time the party winds down, leaving just you and Danny by the fire pit. The second Sam cajoles Rosie from her spot where she'd been sleeping on your deck, leashing her for the walk to his car, you'd had your mind made up.

"Want me to lock the door behind me?" Sam asks before he heads inside, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head, then to Danny's. “Think everyone else is gone."

"That would be great, Sammy, thank you," you reply, and you know that it's obvious your mind is elsewhere but you can't seem to bring yourself to care.

Danny had worn those teal shorts tonight, the ones that made his legs look miles long and drew out the color of his tan, and you hadn't been able to keep your eyes— or your hands— off of him.

Usually, Danny was the one who had an arm around your shoulders, or a grip on your thigh, or a hand at your waist. Not that you didn't reciprocate. You were both handsy people- he was just usually already touching you whenever you reached for him. Tonight, though, you couldn't get enough. When he'd leaned forward to pull your chair closer to his so he could stretch an arm out and rest his hand at the back of your neck, thumb swiping into the hairs at your nape, you'd leaned in closer to him, putting your hand on his thigh and scratching your fingernails lightly along his soft skin, through the smattering of darker hair. It was a bit of a stretch with the arms of your big wooden deck chairs between you, but nothing was gonna keep you from touching your boyfriend at the moment.

"Okay?" Danny had asked you quietly, taking a swig out of his beer. He stayed facing the fire, but his eyes trailed to you, his hand squeezing your neck lightly. You hadn't been paying attention to the conversation surrounding you, and he had noticed your distraction.

"Mhmm," you acquiesced, nodding. You were a little tipsy and a whole lot wanting, and decided you didn't want to play coy. You turned your gaze from the fire and let your eyes dance over his face, taking in his features, unable to help the way your eyes flitted to his lips. When you saw his tongue dart out to lick across his bottom lip, you spoke. "Wanna go inside?"

Danny barely suppressed his bark of laughter, turning to look at you incredulously. *What was it you said to me earlier? When you came out in this little sundress and I tried to get you to fool around with me before everyone got here-"

“…I don't remember."

Danny's hand had slipped from your neck to your lower back, his fingers sweeping beneath your loose, low back of your sundress and dancing along your spine. He leaned in a little closer to speak, and he had already been speaking quietly, but now he was whispering. “I believe it was something along the lines of ‘we’re the hosts, Daniel, we can't look frazzled and fucked out’-“

"Okay, fine, I remember," you cut him off, pushing his face away from your ear with your free hand. *I was hoping you didn't.”

"What changed your tune?" Danny had asked, and his hand was at your waist now, still beneath the fabric of your dress.

"You came back downstairs in these fucking shorts," you had said, and then made to stand up. You still weren't close enough, and you were ready to do something about it.

He had halted you in place with the hand on your side, though, stilling you, and you frowned, looking at him again.

"Where are you going, baby?" He had asked, voice still low enough that you were the only one who could hear him. Everyone else was listening to a story Josh was telling, Jake interjecting when he exaggerated too much and Sam laughing as Jake grew more and more annoyed.

"M'coming to sit with you," you said, and tried to stand up again.

"Mm-mm. You stay there," Danny murmured, stilling you again. He had pulled you a little further into him, then, and you went willingly. You rested your head on the outside of his shoulder, your hand still squeezing his thigh. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to your temple, and let his lips linger as he spoke again. "If I get you in my lap now, these guys are gonna get a show they didn't ask for."

A heady feeling washed over you, and you shifted slightly, kissing his shoulder, exposed because of the tank he's wearing, and you rested your chin atop it so you could look at your boyfriend again. You wanted to see his face for this next part. "I dunno, baby, I think Sammy might like a show. Or maybe he'd like to-“

Danny's jaw had clenched, his hand on your waist gripping a little harder, and you’d trailed off as you watched his nostrils flare with the sharp inhale he took in at your words, at the way the muscle in his jaw jumped. "Careful, honey," he warned, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he looked at you. "You sure you're ready for that? I'll go ask him right now."

It was something you'd talked about before, but you'd been too nervous to do anything about it yet. You bit your lip as you let your gaze wander to a few feet away, where Sammy was sitting in his own chair, engaged in whatever story was being told now. His hair was in a messy bun atop his head, a few strands that had fallen loose framing his face. He must have felt your eyes on him because he met your gaze, smiling and sending you a wink before returning back to the conversation.

"He'd say yes." Danny said, following your sight line. "He'd say yes to us, baby, do you wanna go ask him?"

Your eyes shot back to your boyfriend to find him already watching you again, and how had this turned around on you so quickly? You'd been trying to rile him up, and now here you were, heat pooling in between your legs and flushing across your cheeks.

You shook your head minutely, barely a movement, but Danny caught it and nodded, knew the unspoken not yet that hadn't quite made it to your lips. He leaned in and kissed your forehead, then beside your eye, and grasped the seat of your chair to slide you even closer than he'd gotten you the first time. You could lean against his side a little easier, now, the arm of the chair digging into your own side just enough to provide the distraction you seemed to need.

"Could've just let me in your lap," you muttered. "Didn't have to play dirty like that."

"You started it," Danny retorted. He dropped his voice low again, tilting his head to whisper into your ear. "And I told you- I can't have you in my lap right now. Not unless I'm buried inside you so deep-“

"Daniel," you cut him off, squeezing his leg. Your hand was high up on his thigh, and you tucked your fingertips under the hem of his shorts. "Unless you do actually want to give our guests a show tonight, I need you to either stop talking—now— or take me inside."

And then you sat back up a little, leaning against the back of your own chair. You were getting so turned on you'd probably have let him take you right there, in front of the boys and the rest of your company, if he'd decided that's what he wanted to do, so you needed to put some space between you before you did actually jump his bones. You'd mournfully removed your hand from his leg, as well. He didn't let you go far, though, shifting in his own chair to lean closer to you, taking his arm from around your middle and bringing his hand to grasp your thigh. It was easier for him, taller and longer limbed, and you succumbed to his touch, watching his long fingers as they squeezed your leg.

And that is where you had stayed, so turned on you were practically vibrating with the tension of it, until your guests had started to leave.

Sam had kissed you both goodnight, giving Danny a knowing smirk over the top of your head, and left through the house, promising to lock the door behind him. You’d waited until you heard his car start and back out of the drive before you were standing out of your seat.

Danny made to follow suit, but you stopped him with a hand on his chest, pushing him back into his chair and climbing into his lap. "You're the worst," you say, straddling his legs. You sit back a bit and look down in between you, rubbing your hands along the tops of his thighs until your fingertips brushed under the hem of the shorts. His hands are gripping your hips, his fingers flexing. “You come down in these, and you look like that, and you won't let me sit in your lap?"

He spreads his legs a little in response, looking up at you with a hint of a smirk, and you have to kiss him, unable to wait anymore. You're still mostly up on your knees, leaning over him, and you anchor yourself with a hand on his chest and one on the side of his neck, sliding your fingers into his hair and tilting his head back how you want him before closing the distance and capturing his lips with yours.

You take your time kissing him, now that you can do so without having to worry about getting carried away in front of guests. He’s warm under you, sun-kissed and flushed, and his kisses taste of the tequila soda you’d been sharing as everyone was heading out, of the lime he’d stolen from you and sucked the juice from with a wink.

You waste no time at all in getting his shorts unbuttoned and slipping your hand down the front of them, cupping Danny’s length over his boxers and smiling against his mouth when he pushes up into your grasp. He helps you, cants his hips up slightly so you can get the band of his boxers down just enough to be able to fully take him in hand.

"You are not getting naked out here," Danny says, succinct as he can be with you pressed all along his front, your arm wedged in between you and your hand still mostly down the front of his shorts. "Absolutely not."

"What happened to putting on a show?" You ask, canting your hips back just enough to be able to shift your angle, get a better grip around him. You nip at his jaw, kiss along the line of it until your lips are against his ear. *Wanna ride you. With the shorts on."

"The shorts really do it for you, huh?" Danny manages through a shaky breath when you twist your hand just right.

"No, baby, it's your fucking legs in them," you reply, and you grind down against him to prove your point. "Look so good.”

"Still not getting you naked out here." Danny responds, reaching up to cup your face in his hands and draw you to him, slanting his lips against yours. He distracts you with the kiss, licking into your mouth, threading the fingers of one hand back into your hair and holding your against him.

"Don't have to," you say against his mouth, in between kisses. "Lift up my dress."

Danny pulls back enough to look at you, raising an eyebrow in question. You withdraw your hand from the front of his shorts, waiting for him to play along.He narrows his eyes at you, and you know why- this particular dress looks so similar to one of the athleisure ones you have and love to wear, the kind with the shorts beneath. You know without a doubt that he thinks you're wearing that one.

After another second, though, he complies. He slides one hand under the hem of your dress and up the outside of your leg at the same time that he lifts the fabric draped across your legs and his lap, moving it just enough to see that you are not, in fact, wearing a dress with shorts under it. In fact, you're not wearing anything beneath.

"Jesus, baby, are you trying to kill me?" Danny asks, and the hand that had been traveling up the outside of your leg grips your hip. "You've been mine for the taking all night long and you're just telling me this now?"

He hasn't taken his eyes off of what's under your dress- or, rather, what isn't under your dress- until now, and his eyes flick up to meet yours, just long enough to see you shake your head before his eyes dip back below the hem of your dress.

“Took 'em off when I went inside a couple hours ago," you say.

He's captivated, is keeping the hem of your dress lifted just enough to be able to see beneath it as he trails his hand from your hip to in between your legs, turning his hand so it's palm up and rubbing two long fingers through your folds. You keen and rock into his hand, seeking his touch any way you can get it.

"Oh, fuck," Danny says as he feels how wet you are. He pulls his hand back, though, and you almost whine at the loss of his touch where you've wanted him most all night, but then he's gripping both of your hips and pulling you as close to him as possible. His hips rut up against you, the action almost involuntary, and the quick motion lists you forward. You catch yourself with your hands on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tank top when he moves his hand back between your legs. "Baby, need to feel you-“

"Yes," you manage through a gasp, eyes fluttering shut as he slides a finger inside you. You bite down on your lower lip, tugging it between your teeth, and give in to the feeling of his finger moving so perfectly inside you.

"Want another?" He asks after a few moments pass, and you open your eyes to look at him- except he's looking down in between you, raising the hem of your dress with his free hand again. "Lemme see you."

You nod and manage a mhmm with your lip still caught between your teeth, and he looks up at you then. "Hey, no," he says, and uses the hand not currently inside you to reach up and grasp your face gently, bringing his thumb to your mouth and tugging your bottom lip free. "Wanna hear you."

"Can't get me naked outside but can let the neighbors hear me?" You ask, managing a modicum of sass until he pushes in a second finger alongside his first. "Oh, fuck-"

He's picked up the hem of your dress again to watch as he fingers you- he's always so obsessed with seeing you take him, be it fingers or his cock- and he's captivated for a moment, keeping a slow pace as he fucks you on his hand. "That's my girl,” he murmurs, and you don't know if it's in response to hearing you or how you're taking him prepping you. His eyes dart up to watch your face as his thumb finds your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Feel good?"

"So good, Danny, honey," you say through a gasp, nodding your head. You reach up and smooth his hair back off of his face, fingers trembling a bit with how good he's making you feel. Your eyes flit to his lips. *Wanna kiss, can I have-"

Danny grins up at you and surges forward to capture your lips with his, wasting no time claiming your mouth with his tongue. His free hand finds the back of your neck, holding you to him, and he deepens the kiss at the same time he crooks his fingers inside you, chuckling into it when you tighten around him, breath catching. You're close to that precipice already, Danny's expert fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Wait, wait, don't wanna come-" you say between kisses. Danny stills his hand immediately, but keeps kissing you, huffing out a laugh against your lips when your hips continue to rock against him. You slow your movements, bringing yourself back from the edge, and pull back from his kiss, pressing your forehead against his. "Need to- need you-“

*You have me." Danny murmurs, kissing your lips again. "Let me make you come, sweet girl, want to-"

"No, not yet," you say again, too caught up in his kiss to further explain yourself. Instead, you reach down between the two of you, palming across the front of his shorts. You had a goal in mind, tonight, and you weren't ready to abandon it yet. “Said I wanted to ride you, remember? It's all l've been thinking about, wanna come with you inside-"

Danny groans at your words, nodding and withdrawing his fingers, helping you make quick work of getting his shorts down enough that you can pull him free. His takes a shuddering breath when you wrap your hand around him, giving him a few strokes before pushing up on your knees and lining him up at your entrance.

"You really are trying to kill me tonight, huh?" He asks, looking up at you, and he grins when you wink at him. It's short lived, though, and he drops his head back against his chair with a groan when you start to sink down into him without any warning.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Danny grits out, jaw clenched. His hands are spanning your hips now, fingers digging in, and you can tell he's trying not to move his own hips as you work to accommodate his size. His throat is exposed with how he's leaning his head back, and you can't help but lean in and nip at his Adam's apple, soothing the spot with a kiss right after. You sink a little further down, thighs burning with the strain of going slow, and you feel Danny twitch against you, inside you- “How do you always feel so fucking good, Christ, it's like you were made for me-“

His words and the feeling of him inside you finally brings you back to the edge of your orgasm almost immediately. Danny must be able to feel it, knows your body and your tells almost better than you do, because he brings a hand back between you and starts rubbing over your clit just how you like. "Give me one, sweetheart." he murmurs. "M'inside you, now, let me have it-“

It really doesn't take more than that to get you there- you come with a cry of Danny's name, one hand on his shoulder and the other on top of his where it's gripping your hip.

"Oh, my God, baby, you feel so good, you're perfect," Danny talks you through it, rambling as you ride the wave of your first orgasm, even though he's gripping your hip so tight with his effort to stay still that you'll probably have bruises. He’ll see them in the morning and frown, will apologize and kiss them gently, and you’ll card your fingers through his curls and tell him- not for the first time- that you don’t mind it when he marks you up.

The pleasure of your orgasm allows you to finish taking him, sinking down until he's buried all the way inside you. He keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing at it languidly, enough to draw out the pleasure without it being too much and watching your face for a cue that it's okay for him to move.

After a few more moments of you holding still, Danny chokes out a hoarse, "Honey, can I- need to-" and you nod, leaning in and pressing your face into the crook of his neck, kissing and nipping at the skin there as he takes control. He’s gripping your hip with one hand and has the other arm banded around your back, and he holds you to him as he plants his feet and starts to move his hips. It’s slow at first, still giving you time to recover, but the way he’s filling you, hitting that perfect spot inside with each languid thrust has your legs feeling like jello. After a few moments, you sit back up, attention back on your goal. You’re up on your knees enough that you can start meeting him thrust for thrust, lowering yourself when he cants his hips up and loving the way he groans when you start moving.

You meet Danny’s eyes, one hand on his shoulder, big and warm under your palm, and the other on the side of his neck. You slow your movement and he follows suit, eyes fluttering shut when you seat yourself fully on him and roll your hips, squeezing around him. His face is flushed, a delicious pink from the day’s sun and your night time activities spreading from his cheeks down his neck. The freckles dusting his nose are standing out more with each day of summer that passes. He’s moved down in the chair a bit, leaning his head against the back edge, and your eyes roam from his face to what part of his chest you can get a glimpse of, then to his waist and his hips. Where you’re joined is hidden by the hem of your dress again, and you look up to see Danny watching you.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” you say, unable to help yourself, and it earns you a grin.

”Look who’s talking. Come here,” Danny replies, and reaches up to cup the side of your neck and draw you to him for another kiss. It changes the angle, slightly, and you gasp into his mouth, clenching around him when he nips at your bottom lip.

That’s what does it for him, his hands coming down to settle at your hips and hold you tight and he starts moving faster, angling each thrust perfectly and stealing your breath.

“Gonna come again?” He asks you, his thumb back on your clit, and you nod, knowing he can feel that you’re getting close. “Cause I- fuck, I think I’ve hit my limit on how chill I can remain about this situation we’re in-“

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend, hot as sin and goofy as hell and everything you could ever want. “Coulda just fucked me earlier,” you remind him, unable to resist teasing him some more. “Maybe Sammy would’ve heard us and come to see if we needed a- a hand-“

You stutter on the last couple of words and trail off as Danny starts fucking you harder, turning his head to press a kiss to your wrist where it rests beside his head, your hand holding on to the back of the chair. He nips at the skin of the inside of your wrist before snaking his arm around your back and grasping your shoulder with his hand.

You can tell he’s close, and you are too, so you keep talking. “Gonna come, baby, I’m so close again already, want you to come with me-“

“Me too,“ he says, tugging you to him and biting at your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. “Where-?”

“Inside, want it inside,” you answer immediately. You’re on protection, but he asks every time, and you love him even more for it. “Wanna feel you-“

Danny’s hips stutter and he groans as he comes, fucking up into you with abandon, and it draws you over the edge as well. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and come with a cry of his name, shuddering around him as your orgasm drags you under.

He fucks you through it, slowing the movement of his fingers and his hips so he doesn’t overstimulate you. It’s only once you’ve both regained your breath that he speaks.

“Shit,” he says, and he kisses the corner of your mouth when you sit up. He drapes your dress back over you, making sure you’re covered. “Should have brought you inside first, it’s gonna be a mess when I pull out-“

You cut him off with a kiss of your own. “It’s fine, Dan,” you say, unable to help pressing another kiss to his lips. “Besides, you know I like it when I can feel you dripping down-“

“Oh my God,” Danny groans and covers your mouth with his hand, and you can’t help but giggle when you feel his dick twitch from where he’s still buried inside you. “I swear it’s like you’re trying to kill me tonight.”

[twinsunstars]

"Can you braid my hair?"

Summary: Omega helps Emerie braid her hair during their time together on Tantiss.

Additional Prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

Notes: Wanted to associate this prompt with Omega and Emerie getting some time to be siblings together. Hope you enjoy this small fic! divider by @summer-of-bad-batch

The same everyday routine on Tantiss never really got tiring for everyone else as they continued to work their jobs. For Omega, it was getting boring. 

Four months had passed now ever since she was brought here, and every day there was a lot to do. Blood samples, feeding the lurca hounds, keeping everything organized, behaving well and not making trouble. Omega had forced herself to adapt to her new surroundings while continuing to wait for her brothers to arrive and rescue her. Deep inside, a tiny part of her was starting to lose hope when they never came. But every day was a new day, and Omega had to keep finding the perfect route to make an escape.

All of her time was always spent either with Emerie, Batcher, or Crosshair. Emerie was always the first face she would see and always took her blood samples, along with making sure she was doing well. Batcher and Crosshair were stuck in cells, but they were still around. Omega developed her own daily routine while completing her given tasks. She was happy Crosshair was there to listen to her, and it still took time for Batcher to warm up to her. 

Emerie was also a good listener. Omega often told her stories about her brothers while they worked on tasks together. Omega deeply missed them. She told Emerie all about who each of her brothers were and what they were like. Omega even enjoyed telling her about the different places she had visited and the new life she was making for herself on Pabu. She never mentioned the island’s name explicitly just in case anyone was listening nearby.

“At our new home, Wrecker loves to catch a lot of sea creatures and help the locals fish. Hunter’s still getting used to everything. Echo sometimes comes to visit away from missions and I would show him around the beach. I think you would love beaches, they’re beautiful. Tech would hang out with Phee and talk about a lot of things.” 

Whenever Omega talked about Tech, she paused for a few seconds before continuing. Emerie would see sadness and grief in her eyes. 

Emerie loved listening to Omega talk about her brothers. The only clones she knew personally were Omega, Commander Scorch, Crosshair, and the other clones kept in cells here on Tantiss, so Emerie was intrigued by all the specific details Omega would tell her.

She noticed Omega’s hair had been growing longer each day, eventually reaching her shoulders. Emerie helped Omega tie her layers into a small ponytail so it wouldn’t get in the way whenever she completed her tasks. Emerie had always kept hers in a neat ponytail after her hair grew out while she was growing up, and Nala Se wasn’t there anymore to continuously trim her hair to keep it short.

Omega had hers always kept short with the headdress tied around her forehead. Having longer hair took some time to get used to. Sometimes, she let her hair be free whenever she had some leisure time or was alone in her room. She leaned against the wall and let her fingers play with her growing blond locks. Maybe her hair was almost as long as Hunter’s. 

She missed him so much. She missed everyone. Omega knew they were looking for her. She longed for the day they would come for her or when she would finally figure out an escape plan for her and Crosshair. 

Playing with her hair, Omega remembered how Hunter taught her to braid hair. He would sometimes make small braids in his own hair when he would be sitting by himself, lost in thought and wrapping strands of his hair around until they formed neat braids. Omega had watched Hunter braid his hair many times and wondered if she could make braids in her own. It had been too short the first time she saw him do it, but Hunter had offered to teach her how to braid so she could try it with him when her hair got longer. 

But he wasn’t here. Remembering the steps Hunter taught her, Omega grabbed three strands of her hair and looped them over one by one until it created a perfect braid. She kept on creating small braids to pass the time and calm down her anxiety while relishing the memories.

During another surprise inspection, Emerie noticed the small braids Omega had designed in her hair. While the troopers checked the room, Omega kept on toying with her hair and making braids. Emerie had seen that hairstyle before as other female doctors around Tantiss had crafted their hair into neat braids to work comfortably in. She loved how they looked, but had never learned how to do it on her own. 

After the troopers left, Emerie paused before heading back to wrap up for the night. Omega kept herself fixated with making her small braids, eventually noticing Emerie’s stare. “Is something wrong, Emerie?”

Emerie breathed. She wanted to have her hair in braids just like Omega’s and the others. Have something different other than the ponytail. 

“Omega,” Emerie began. She held her datapad close to her.  “Can you braid my hair? Please?”

Omega stopped toying with her hair and faced Emerie. She gave her a smile. “Of course I can!” 

Emerie smiled. She was happy Omega accepted her request. Omega patted the small cold bunk she slept on every night, signaling Emerie to sit down.

Emerie took her glasses off and undid her ponytail, allowing her dark brown locks to fall onto her shoulders. It was a breath of relief whenever her hair was let out of that tight ponytail after a long day of work. Omega sat up on her knees and got to work. 

Emerie’s hair was soft and beautiful. Omega separated her hair into three and wrapped them around to create a comfortable braid for her. 

“Hunter showed me how to do this. He said a clone named 99 helped him learn how to after Hunter saw it on the holonet during non-training hours in their room on Tech’s datapad.”

That number sounded familiar, but Emerie couldn’t remember. It felt like a fleeting memory. 

“I’ll teach you how to do it too! It took me a while to get the hang of it, it takes a lot of practice. Hunter said the same thing."

“I would love that.” Emerie would prefer it if Omega always braided her hair for her. She continued listening to Omega talk about her family. Emerie hoped she could meet them and get to know them one day, but she knew it might not be under the right circumstances.

For now, Emerie loved spending time with her sister. She was safe with her, and that’s all that mattered.

Nini's Writing Masterlist

taglist: @summer-of-bad-batch @orion-tyche @bossboudicca @magicandmundane @kurlyfrii @ahsokashawarma1138 @locitapurplepink

[theriu]

What advice do you have for someone who wishes to (eventually, as soon as she has both the space and the money) have a cat, but who has never had a pet before?

Oh goodness, I don’t feel like an expert but I will do my best! Here’s a few tips I can think of from my own experiences:

1) Decide how okay you are with shedding. Of my two cats, the long-haired one obviously sheds a lot more noticeably, and it can be a bit aggravating to find clumps of fur all over the carpet. Hard floors can make this less of a nuisance since you can sweep it up easily, but if you have a lot of carpet, I’d suggest a short-hair cat unless you just SUPER LOVE long-hairs. Of course, my cats were both strays so those kinds of considerations didn’t really factor in. 😅

2. Determine if you want a cat that is indoor/outdoor or indoor only. Now, there is a lot of argument against letting cats run free outdoors, but I used to live out on a farm right next to a trailer park full of stray cats, so a few more (all fixed) weren’t going to make much difference to the local wildlife. Once I moved into town, though, I rehomed my one cat I knew would be miserable being indoor-only, and the other two have adapted pretty well to being indoor cats. (They do try and sneak out the door sometimes, though.) I did this mainly because risks like being hit by cars or being mistaken for a stray and adopted by some well-meaning person are much higher in town. They are still risks elsewhere, though, so keep a collar on your cat, and consider getting it microchipped. Also, know that you will probably need to get the cat some extra shots, for diseases they can only get outside. Also also, make sure you spay/neuter! (The kitten issue aside, female cats are so WEIRD when they are in heat!)

For indoor cats, my house has stairs the cats can run up and down and they seem to stay in good shape, but just make sure they have some kind of ability to exercise if they can’t run much. Stimulating things like feeder dishes that make the cat work for its food can help mentally and with keeping them from overeating. (I got this neat feeding bowl that is actually a holder of five cups of varying sizes that get filled with food, and the cats have to paw it out of the cups. It’s really helped with how fast they were eating.)

3. Cats have very different personalities, so I think it’s good to try and figure out what a cat is like before adopting it. I kept all my cats because they were really friendly compared to other cats I had known. Of course, there is the issue where my two current cats don’t always get along, but they at least don’t get into full-on brawls. But if you don’t have any other pets when you get the cat, this should be easier - you only have to get it used to you! Cats don’t always show friendlieness by cuddling; a lot of times, they just want to be in the room with you. But if you’re looking for a cuddler, see if you can find one that isn’t too afraid of people and will come right up for petting. When introducing it to your home, give it plenty of space and time to get used to its new surroundings and roommate.

4. Remembering to feed and water and change the cat litter can be hard, especially if you have ADHD. >.> My solution on the water front has been to fill a large decorative bowl in the living room and the cats just drink off that. XD For the food, Stormy will always remind me when she thinks the food is low (this is generally a false alarm the first couple times, the drama queen). Make sure you clean the litter box frequently, or the cats may find other, less agreeable locations to go. 8/ (Such as, oh I don’t know, INSIDE THE DRYER ON MY CLEAN LAUNDRY) If your cat does pee somewhere, you want to get those pet cleaner sprays because they break down the stinky enzymes that make cat pee smell so bad for so LONG.

5. As mentioned, some cats are cuddlier than others, but here’s a few general tips on cat behavior: a slow blink is how they show they trust you. A cat rolling onto its back is also showing trust that you WON’T touch its vulnerable belly (but some cats do actually learn to love tummy rubs; you kinda have to figure that one out on a cat-by-cat basis). They often like being petted on the area over the hindquarters near the base of the tail, but they also have a lot of nerves there and can get overstimulated, so if a cat goes from letting you pet it to trying to bite your hand, it is probably telling you that petting needs to stop NOW because its nerves are going CRAZY. This can also involve some trial and error; my former cat Clyde still sometimes knee-jerk reacts to being petted, but my sister says he has never done it to her, so we think she just pets less firmly than I do. Meanwhile, Shuri has NEVER reacted poorly to petting, and in fact would love nothing more than for me to spend an hour petting her so hard that she squishes into the mattress.

6. Don’t waste money on fancy cat toys unless you have some indication your cat likes that kind of toy. (This may be different if you raise them with the fancy toys from kittenhood; mine were both strays and are Very Suspicous of anything fancy I get them.) Laser pointers are an INSTANT FAVORITE and only cost a few dollars! And a dangly thing on a string can usually get them excited. Cats will often prefer a plain cardboard box over a fancy catbed, but they like pillows and piles of clothes and chairs and couches and people beds. And sometimes the round puzzle you put together on top of your hope chest, because Borders Are Safe Zones.

7. GET SCRATCHING POSTS OR THEY WILL MAKE THEIR OWN. (They will probably make their own anyway; my couch is regretably covered in claw marks. But the scratching posts at least help slow the deterioration.) Fun Fact: Cats don’t use scratching posts to “sharpen” their claws, but rather to rub off the outer layers on their claws. If you trim your cat’s claws yourself, you may notice how the claws kind of flake off when clipped. Be very careful not to cut into the quick (the blood vessel) when trimming! If your cat strongly opposes this process, the vet can do it for you for a small fee, but I generally just wrap mine up in a towel and make them suffer the indignity. It’s cheaper for me and less stressful for them than a long car trip and a visit to the strange vet’s office would be. (And they always forgive me pretty immediately after I release them. I cannot speak for cats that may hold grudges.)

I’m sure I haven’t covered even a tenth of the useful info, but I hope these are helpful and that you find just the right cat buddy in the future! 😄

[cyberrfangs]

“Velvet Ring” — . . . Big Thief ♬

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IN WHICH…

You’ve always had feelings for Nick. But, has he ever felt the same way you feel for him?

WARNINGS: male!reader, angst, use of Y/n

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“BEN, he loved her like he loved no one”

“THE way she laughed and held a smoking gun”

“THE way she always said, ‘What’s done is done’”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

My feelings towards Nick were always there. When we were kids, I would always get nervous whenever we hid together in hide in seek. Or whenever we would partner up together in class.

It took until Nick had come out that I finally came face to face with my feelings. And they only grew stronger once the realization settled in.

I had always been there for the triplets, helping start their YouTube career, moving with them to L.A., and things like that.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

I sat in the Sturniolo’s living room occupied on my phone before a text chimed from the top of my phone. From Nick.

Nick❤️

— “Hey, just finished filming today’s video! Coming back now.”

I always volunteered to watch over their house whenever they filmed. Well, why wouldn’t I? I would get a free opportunity to see Nick and snag a few of the snacks in their pantry. A win on both ends.

You

— “Alright! I’ll see you all soon, drive home safe.”

I typed, setting down my phone with a light sigh as I got up. Freshening up the kitchen and living room, fixing whatever I had messed with throughout the few hours.

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The sound of the front door unlocking before creaking open caught my attention, and my head turned to look in the direction of the noise. An instant smile spread across my lips as my eyes fell onto the triplets. Getting up to greet them.

“Hey, guys! How’d recording go?” I asked, my hands falling into my hoodie pocket while I walked over to them. Their grins are always a telltale sign of a good time.

“Pretty good, I’ve got to get to editing pretty soon, though.” Nick spoke, slipping his shoes off before walking up to me. “Thanks for watching the house, again. Can never be too safe, right?” He laughed breathily, nudging my shoulder with his hand.

A chuckle slipped from me at his comment, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink at the contact of his hand. “Yeah, no problem. I’m always open to doing this.” I nodded my head slightly, my eyes instinctively tracing his addicting features.

The silence between us lingered for a moment, the sound of Matt and Chris talking merely background noise as I found myself getting lost in the depths of his blue eyes.

“Well, you should probably head home, now. It's late,” his voice broke the silence, cracking me from my trance.

“Oh, yeah. I'll head out now.” I nodded sheepishly, feeling foolish of letting myself get lost in my thoughts again. Finding it harder to contain my thoughts around Nick. “Goodnight Nick, tell Matt and Chris I said goodnight as well.” I dismissed myself, slipping on my shoes before I walked out of the front door.

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It was a late Saturday afternoon, finding myself hanging out with the triplets as the four of us sat in a restaurant. Sharing laughs and casual conversation with one another.

The lack of Nick's laugh soon fell upon my ears, my eyes dropping to him. The sight of him looking down at his phone, a giddy smile on his lips as he seemed uninterested in what me and the other two guys were discussing. My curiosity piquing.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” I asked him, trying to glance over at his screen as I had sat directly next to him. Catching a glimpse of a string of text messages before he turned his phone away.

“It's nothing, I'm just… talking to someone right now,” he said with a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed as he spoke of the other person.

My heart dropped, my grin dissipating along with it.

“But, you can't tell Matt or Chris. Promise?” he said hurriedly, though in a hushed tone. His hand reached out to sit on my forearm, the blush on his cheeks slowly falling as he looked at me.

“Yeah— yeah, your secrets are safe with me.” I cleared my throat, offering him a forced grin. Not wishing for him to know just how much that simple statement affected me.

The sounds of our waiter grew nearer, the plate of steaming food being set in front of me. Though my appetite was long gone.

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I met him, I had finally met the guy Nick had been raving about for the past two months.

He was handsome, fit, and had a nice fashion sense. He made Nick happy, that was all that mattered. Right?

Envy and jealousy bubbled within me as I found myself unable to tear my eyes from them, sitting across the room from me at some party the triplets were invited to, me being their plus one. Chuckles and bright smiles being passed to each other.

I never made Nick smile or blush the way he does.

Is it me?

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My world felt like it was crumbling around me. And I couldn't do anything about it.

I hadn't come out of my house in days. No, not after Nick and he had gotten together.

I'm supposed to be happy for him, really. But all I've found myself doing was wishing that instead of him. It was me.

That I was the one who held Nick. That I was the one who would kiss him, comfort him, love him, and be loved back.

Messages from the brothers and other friends stacked up in my phone, not finding the energy to care as I slept away my worries.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

And now, as I sat at his wedding. Watching as the vows were exchanged, I could only let my tears fall. A weak smile masked the thoughts that ran through my mind.

“If only I had won him over”

“That could've been me.”

“Is it me?”

“I love you, why cant you love me back?”

“Why not me?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:

NOTE:

I’M sorry💔

I’M thinking of making this into a series. But, a few things will be changed. CONSIDER THIS A TEASER (??)

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED