#this seems like it was longer than a year ago

[heartfullofleeches]

Drabble ft Thembo Darling mistaking one of Aspen [Housewife Yan]'s night slips for a tank top. (GN Reader, but they are described as having big naturtals and slightly implied to be taller than Aspen. Reader's chest is referred to as tits once or twice. Slightly suggestive.)

-

Wedded and residing in the same home as your spouse for several odd years, misplacement of your separate possessions as individuals is a one of numerous staples tied to married life. Your toothbrush in the slot where his would normally be. Leaving home smelling of lavender and honey instead of your regular body soap. Taking out the trash in pink slippers due to your own being nowhere in sight.

It's never been a point of issue to either of you. As a matter of fact, your wife seems delighted to find you at the breakfast table sipping from his favorite mug.

Groggy and drained of energy by the steam of a nice, hot shower before bed, you stumble into the bedroom as the click of the bathroom door muffles the sound of running water. Your wife enjoyed taking his time when he had it to spare, but unfortunately you were too exhausted to stay with him longer.

Pawing through the darkness, your fingers lace around the chilled knob of the top dresser drawer where you normally kept your nightwear. The insistence of your wife urging you to join him lead to you forgetting to grab a shirt for yourself. Losing your battle with the beast known as fatigue, you grab the closet one - throwing it over head as you switch trajectory for the bed.

"Something feels.....off."

As the fabric petals around you, you immediately notices something strange about the garment both in texture and the form at which it shapes to your frame. At first feel, you chalked the silk like touch of the shirt as some effect of the new laundry detergent Aspen picked up the other day. For a split moment, you pondered if you even put on anything to begin with - the material light and breathable like warm spring air. The familiar bind of your tank tops makes an appearance as the shirt rides the curve of your ample chest, biting the skin as you huff in frustration.

"Did it shrink in the wash?? Didn't he just buy these for me?"

Fiddling with oddly thin straps, your tits squish through the top of the shirt as you pull its hem in tandem. Your nipples pucker at the iciness cupping your chest as the fabric adjusts to the warmth of hot-bloodded body. Your teeth chatter as cool air blows over your bare stomach - the shirt barely having enough material to cover your navel.

"This thing totally shrunk! And it's brand new too...."

Slumped in defeat, cherubic humming echoes from behind the bathroom door - crescendoing as the handle turns and a figure shrouded in fog steps out. Aspen hangs his towel on the shower rack drilled to the backside of the door, facing away from you as he questions-

"Is everything alright, my love? Could've sworn i heard you saying something a moment ago."

"I think my tank top shrunk in the wash...."

"What?!" Aspen spins on his heels, expression flared in shock and surpise at your declaration. "But I just bought those for you! First thing tomorrow, we're marching down to that store to get you clothes that can survive more than one wash."

"I know." You whine, plopping down on the bed center of the brilliance still bleeding through the bathroom door. Aspen's jaws fall slack as he stares at you, but the source of his disbelief no longer regards the alleged faulty tank top.

"Darling?"

"You didn't even need to buy me new ones, but it was sweet of you to do anyway."

"Darling."

"And look what happened. Having to return gifts is the worst!"

"Darling!"

"Huh?!?" You snap to attention as your wife shouts, the fat of your well endowed bust nearly slipping over the low cut of your attire as you jump from the fright of if all. Breath violently yanked from his person, Aspen stammers for the proper words to say as he fans himself.

"Good heavens, if there are higher powers above, please give me strength." Aspen mutters feverishly to himself - regaining his prim and proper composure as he clasps his hands together; nails digging into his skin to remind him of self control.

"Dearest. My sweet angel, my love of loves - you are not wearing one of your shirts. You are wearing one of my slips."

Oh.

Ohhhh.

That explains- so much. More specifically the spilts at the sides and what you now recognize as frilly lace stitched around the hems.

"Oh, no. I'm stretching it all out, aren't I? Here, I'll try to get it off before I completely ruin it."

"NO!" Aspen's hands shoot forward as if you're inches from placing your hand on a hot stove. He clears his throat, rounding the bed to where you sat.

"Ruined is a rather bold claim, wouldnt you say? You already have it on, so there's no point in taking it off. Besides, I have plenty more you can stretch out some other day. It's getting late. Why don't we lie down?"

"I guess you're right..."

Sighing, you roll onto your backside as Aspen crawls over to his side of the mattress to join you. Elastic expanding to the fullest of its limits, your nipples peak out the sidelines of the slip as you lay there none the wiser.

Aspen shoves his knuckles between his teeth to stop himself from screaming.

[knavesflames]

hiii 🩷 i saw that you like raiden... i was wondering if we could have a fem!reader sucking her strap 🫣 maybe while wearing a collar & leash, and some praise from raiden?🩷 (she probably isn't good at it, but she tries!!)

- 🍰

Hi 🍰 anon!! Sorry this took literally so fucking long :( I also forgot to include the leash and the collar D: either way, reader sucking strap… yummy

Word count: 1022

Contents: reader sucks The Strap, mentions of praying, devotion to a god, yeah

Nsft utc!

For someone who meditated in isolation for 500 years, her skills in bed are.. about what you’d expect. She’s clumsy, unsure, but all she ever seems to want to do is please you. On occasion, when you request something she’s unsure she can fulfill, she orders the Shogun instead. Even though the Shogun is different, more robotic, less emotional, only saying and doing what she is programmed to, Ei watches, memorising the way she had memorised the Mosou No Hitotachi all those years ago. Of course, you’d much rather Ei do it herself, but the fact she’s a powerful god, the slayer of orobashi, means nothing when she’s alone with you.

“I do not understand your request. You want to.. suck it?” She asks softly, a tilt of her head causing her purple braid to sway gently with the movement. “I do,” you murmur, your finger gently tracing the vein on the strap she had so carefully crafted for you. Made from pure electro energy, it gave the perfect buzz when she needed it to, but only when she wanted it to. You loved it, and it gave you what you needed. Plus, the sounds you made when you were both alone in Tenshukaku sounded better than anything she had ever heard. “I think it would be fun. I think.. I don’t know. I want to try it.”

“I do not wish to hurt you, my petal. If you require the Shogun, you really must say—“ you cut her off with a firm shake of your head. You don’t want the Shogun. Quite frankly, you’re sick of the Shogun. You don’t want to look up, mid groan, only to see the puppet with its emotionless eyes. You want the woman you love, the god you worship so dearly. You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t gotten on your knees in other ways for her, kneeling at the shrine and praying for unholy things. You wonder if she hears your prayers (she does. She listens with her mouth slightly open and her breath quickening, and yet, she can never do anything about it). You assume she does not. You love her anyway.

“I see. You do not wish to engage with the Shogun any longer.”

“No. I do not worship a puppet, I worship the divine being stood in front of me. Do the thing.”

“What thing?” Again, she’s confused. You sigh. You wonder why she has to be so clueless for a god so old and smart.

“Make it vibrate. I want you to feel good.” Ei’s problem is that she can’t accept pleasure. At least, not from anyone but herself. Long mediation sessions that only include thinking about the faces you make every time she hits the right spot, or kisses the right place. Watching over you with the omnipresence she so happily flaunts as you touch yourself to the thought of her (and, on occasion, being tag teamed by her and the Shogun. You’ll never ask).

“Oh.” Speechless, is the god who is so feared and respected by the nation. The nation who seems to have no idea how shy and flustered she can truly get. “Right. If you wish, then I shall oblige. Anything for you.”

When she fastens the hand crafted strap onto herself, her own breath hitches at the slight sensation. Neither of you know exactly how to work this situation with the small vibrations, but the fact you can feel your heartbeat between your own legs and the way you notice you can’t take your eyes off of it, you know that it’s the only thing you’re thinking about, and damn the archons if you don’t get to. Tentatively, you let your tongue move across the surface of it. Her violet eyes pierce down at you— she doesn’t mean for it to be, but it’s slightly intimidating nonetheless (maybe that’s what you like). You see the softness that lies beneath anyway.

“I think you need to hold my head, it’s— it’s big, and I’ve never done this before.”

“Hold your head? Is that not violent? I will not injure you for pleasure.” She states, but when you gently explain that it’ll help, her hand slowly moves to your hair. Her fingers, smooth despite the centuries of fighting, weave through your hair before gripping a small handful. Looking at you with her eyebrows knitted, waiting for a sign of consent, she stands still. When you give that sign, a murmured “please”, she begins to help your mouth and throat adjust by pushing you down. She’s gentle, almost a little too gentle, but the second you make that tiny little sound, she gasps. Your own eyes flutter to hers, a silent look of consent.

She’s hesitant at first, her hand barely guiding you, but when she starts losing herself at the sight of your eyes (beginning to water with what can only be described as tears of pure, unadulterated devotion), she lets herself loose, gently testing the waters with a roll of her hips. At the pleased choking sound you make, she does it again, and again, until she builds a rhythm, her breath coming out in little pants and stifled groans. Her lip is bitten in any attempt to hide the fact she’s enjoying this more than she thought she would. When a small whimper finally breaks through, she lets her head tilt back. Ei has decided she can’t look at you any longer or she’ll probably cum at the sight of you with spit on your chin and wet eyelashes.

Ei is a sensitive being, believe it or not. Unfortunately, for her and her ego, she does, in fact orgasm at the sight of you, the vibrations secretly doing nothing for her. She lies, and tells you that the vibrations did the trick. You know, it's different. You say nothing. You wouldn’t dare disrespect your god and accuse her of deceit.

And of course, when she notices the fact you’re throbbing, her hands gently pry your thighs apart, her braid tickling your ankles as she brings you to an eternity of pleasure.

[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags - part 4

⤷ “but what’s the rush? kissing, then my cheeks are so flushed.”

summary: grayson drives you home, and you can tell he isn’t feeling the best, so you insist the perfect remedy - on hosting an impromptu movie night while your roommate gigi is at her new boyfriends house! a/n: this takes place immediately after end of part 3!! and if you’re in the mood to see more of these idiots kissing and giggling, see this post!! warnings: little tiny sad grayson flashback, kissing, (friends to lovers is finally friends to lovering) wc: 4k masterlist || part one || part two || part three

…previously on part three

“ finally, after an intense game of eenie meenie miney mo —suggested by gigi, noah payed. 

grayson reluctantly put his card back in his wallet, tucking it back in his pocket as noah flashed gigi a nervous smile. 

when they caught eachother’s eyes, grayson offered noah a slight nod, almost of respect. noah returned it with a smile.

you and gigi once again glanced at eachother. in both your eyes, that seemed like a success.”

—

grayson was driving you home, the roads were bustling and crowded, and the ride was taking much longer than anticipated. 

you weren’t staring— staring was a big stretch. you think taking notice, observing, perceiving, even, were all better words to describe what you were doing. 

you were simply taking note of grayson’s features. 

the way his jaw slightly clenched when someone’s bad driving annoyed him, the way his hands grip would momentarily tighten on the wheel, the way the soft dim lighting of the night interrupted by headlights passing and traffic lights coloured his face— not staring. 

flashback - 12 years old…

maybe standing outside the huge hawthorne house with no plan at all wasn’t the best choice. your parents weren’t home, the house was empty, and you were bored out of your mind, and it was only 1pm!

so, 12 year old you did what sounded like the most fun: called grayson. annoying him was maybe your favorite past time.

you went straight in, not even waiting for him to say anything when he answered. 

“hey grayson, do you wanna go hang out?”

the other end was silent for a moment. “excuse me?”

“you know, hang out?” you laughed like he’d been talking nonsense, “like, when two friends go somewhere and—“

“i know what hanging out means.” he cut you off, and you could hear the annoyance in his tone. he didn’t speak for a second, “… i suppose my schedule is free today.” 

that was his way of saying yes. you rolled your eyes jokingly even though he couldn’t see you, what kind of 12 year old has a schedule?

“okay, i’m outside.”

“what?” he breathed out, sounding more shocked than ever. “sorry,” he corrected himself, and if your ears weren’t deceiving you, he almost sounded amused. 

“what if i had said no?” he added.

you laughed softly into your phone, “well, i just knew you wouldn’t.” you said, “now hurry up, it’s freezing out here.”

you stood outside in the brisk air, and grayson came down no less than a minute later, opening the door and being met with your cold-air-flushed face. 

you beamed, “grayson! hi!” it was muscle memory for you to hug your any of friends whenever you saw them — but you quickly stopped yourself, retracting your hands back to your sides awkwardly.

he raised a single eyebrow at you, “i spoke with you less than a minutes ago.” he deadpanned. “why are you so happy to see me?” 

if it was anyone else, you would’ve felt severely judged. you suppose that was his intent, though, so you didn’t let it affect you.

“i’m not happy to see you, i’m just happy. stop trying to dull my spark, hawthorne.” you rolled your eyes as you both began to walk, the cold december air hitting you. “let me live.”

he muttered something under his breath about an “annoying glare, not a spark.”before handing you something. “take this.”

you looked down at what he was handing you, “what?” you said quietly. 

you hadn’t even noticed before, but he had brought a sweater with him. 

“you mentioned you were cold earlier,” he stated matter-of-factly. “please, take it.” 

“oh,” you said, sounding too surprised at the casual action for your own liking. 

“thanks,” warmth instantly spread over you as you put it on, and when you noticed some sort of rock band logo on it with lots of writing. 

you furrowed your brows, did grayson have a complete closet change overnight?

“it’s not mine.” he said, eyes flickering back up to yours like he could read your thoughts. “it belongs to one of my brothers.”

“you wouldn’t want to spoil one of your precious hoodies on me?” you remarked sarcastically.

“i don’t own any hoodies.” 

oh. 

“wait,” you stopped in your tracks when you let that sink in, “not even a single one?” 

he just blinked at you, “no.” 

“why?” 

“it’s not my preferred style.” he said like it was clear. i mean, of course grayson hawthorne of all people wouldn’t own a hoodie; it was kind of clear.

“okay well, our next stop is obvious,” you said, and graysons brows knit. “the mall! we need to get you some hoodies.”

based on the look on his face, you don’t think he liked that idea…

but he went anyway. 

present…

you stopped infront of the red light, the colour sending a reddish hue over everything in the car.

grayson’s side profile was on full view, eyes not leaving the road as he broke the comfortable silence, “i may have misjudged his character.” 

“hm?” you hummed, snapped out of the trance-like state you were in, as you looked more intently, trying to decipher at the emotion behind his eyes.

“noah.” he made himself clear, “i presumed him to be…” he trailed off, thumb running up and down the wheel methodically, “different. worse.” 

you chuckled, “me and gigi both told you he was a good person,” you pointed out, “what, you think our taste is that bad?” 

is lips turned up for a flash of a second, “no,” he said as he shook his head slightly, “that’s not what i meant to imply.” 

“oh?” you said, leaning your head back against the head rest as your eyes stayed fixed on grayson’s face. “what was your intended affect then, hawthorne?” 

his head turned, his eyes narrowing jokingly as they finally met yours for a moment, before going back on the road. there was almost a full smile on his face. 

he redirected the conversation as he steered the wheel, “he seems like a nice fit for gigi.”

“aw,” you fake cooed, bringing a heartfelt hand to your chest. “you really think so?”

in all seriousness, though. the date had actually been much better than you had anticipated. gigi’s smile didn’t leave her face once. 

you saw him side glance at you, “yes, i do.” he said, “that, however, does not mean i’m agreeing to one of these ‘double dates’ ever again.” he quickly reiterated, like he could read your next thought. 

the way he said double dates made it seem like the last 2 hours were living hell for him.

you rolled your eyes and laughed under your breath, “don’t lie. i know the word fun isn’t in your dictionary, but i know you enjoyed yourself.”

“enjoy is a very large stretch.” he deadpanned, glancing at you momentarily.

“you had the best time ever. be honest.” 

“it was bearable.” 

“okay, sure. whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, you said, just before started you noticed the familiar turns, and before you knew it, the the car was parked infront your house. you could see the stars twinkling in the night sky through the dashboard window— stargazing was one of your favorite activities.

flashback - 12 years old…

after a semi-successful shopping trip — grayson bought 3 hoodies, a black, grey, and navy one (gosh, the variety!) — you came across one of your favorite ice cream spots as you walked back together. it was nearing 3pm now and there was, by some miracle, no one around.

the 50s theme of the this cream store always brought you a sense of comfort, even with its bright overhead lights. you smiled as you and grayson walked in and the bell on the door rang upon your entrance.

the conversation was dulling down, mostly consisting of you making dumb jokes or making fun of him, and him maybe cracking a tiny smile once every 45 minutes, if you were lucky. 

you had a cup of cookies and cream ice cream in front of you, half eaten as you took your eyes to the photo booth placed in the corner of the store. 

there were hundreds of photos stuck on the sides of it— so many faces, so many smiles, friends, families, couples. 

you didn’t know any of their stories, but simply seeing them smile made you want to smile. 

then, you took your eyes to the boy sitting in the chair in front of you: grayson. 

he was sipping on his black coffee —that you relentlessly made fun of him for picking— but, the weird thing was that he was just… staring at you. 

“what are you looking at?” you snorted, putting your spoon down in your ice cream and leaning back in the booth seat. 

he shook his head slightly, “nothing.” 

it wasn’t nothing, because then after a second, he spoke again. he put his cup down, “why’d you take us here? it’s essentially empty, and it’s the middle of winter.”

your cheeks flushed— only because of the cold air hitting you. 

you shrugged with a sheepish smile, “i don’t know…” you trailed off, but you did know. “i kind of remembered you saying you haven’t tried ice cream, and i remember thinking in that moment, “i need to get this kid to have some ice cream.” then i saw this place, and thought, why not?”

he was silent for a moment, and a thousand thoughts overflowed in your mind. 

“i said that 3 years ago.” he finally said, sounding surprised, and it was like you could see his guarded mask slowly slipping away. 

“yeah,” you said, “i know.” 

his eyes flickered between yours, and then he did one of his barely there smiles that made you want to squeal — how come he got to make you feel like that? it wasn’t fair.

“if it’s any relief to you,” he said half jokingly, “i went home that night and asked my older brother to get me ice cream.” he spoke with softness in his voice; you noticed it was always that way when he spoke about his siblings. “it wasn’t as bad as i had anticipated.” 

you smiled softly at the emotion in his voice, “yeah, well, you’re literally drinking a specially made black coffee in an ice cream shop right now,” you stated. “so… my mission has failed, sort of.” 

he narrowed his grey eyes slightly like he was in deep thought, before briefly glancing at the counter. a server sat behind it, bored and staring his phone.

he looked back at you and then stood up, heading towards the ice cream counter.

you gasped in mock amazement. truthfully though, you were actually pretty shocked. “grayson hawthorne, actually living his life a little? i can’t believe i’m witnessing this in real time. this is extraordinary.” you got up and stood beside him, looking at the ice cream flavors in front. 

he offered you a side glance. “the possibility of me leaving is still very high.”

“oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “the possibility of me slapping you is very high.” oh, good comeback…

he seemed surprised at that, “oh, is that so?”

your cheeks flushed, but you stayed stubborn. “yes.” you didn’t look at him, but you could basically feel that stupid half smile of his. “now pick your ice cream already.”

he picked mint chocolate chip.

as you sat back down at your tables, you went right back to teasing him. “is this you attempting to be a little different, trying something new?” you asked teasingly as you sat down, with an oreo milkshake infront of you now. “i’m surprised you didn’t pick vanilla.”

he gave you that single eyebrow arch again. “why would that be?”

“because vanillas just… vanilla. and you’re so… you.”

his brows furrowed ever so slightly, and you could tell he was trying to keep his face completely unreactive. your heart suddenly felt 50 pounds heavier in your chest. 

the next time he spoke, he hesitated. his expression actually looked like he was his age for once, not way beyond his years. 

you always wondered if that was what other people forced him to be, or if it who he really was.

or, did they start to merge into the same thing at some point? that thought made your stomach feel cold. 

“so you really think i’m,” he paused slightly as he found the words, “… boring?” 

no, not actually, you wanted to say. 

he was that one mystery you decided you wanted to uncover since the day you met him. he was funny when he wanted to be, and despite everything, he actually cared for what you had to say. 

that was why you were here right now.

“oh yeah, for sure.” you grinned, nodding vigorously as grayson’s expression changed to one that looked less sad. “you’re about as interesting as a blank piece of paper.” 

grayson seemed to have gotten the answer he was looking for. his smile slowly matched yours, “so i’ve been told.” 

his eyes twinkled a little, you raised your eyebrows in a way to say, “shocker,” as you sipped from your straw, and then he laughed.  

you joined in, your combined soft laughs being the only sound in the ice cream shop apart from the soft 50’s music, before his phone began to ring and interrupted the moment. 

“sorry,” he said quietly, a hint of a smile still in his voice. “if you’ll excuse me.” he pressed the phone to his ear and answered promptly with, “grayson.” 

you heard a loud voice from the other line, and it all you could roughly understand was:

“GRAYSON! why do you answer like that?we’ve missed you! …. xander… movie night… pillow fight … broke his arm…. where are you?”

whoever was on the other line said that and more all in the span of 30 seconds, and didn’t stop once.

grayson listened to every word intently, and his little expressions of frustration, shock, and sheer annoyance as he looked at a spot on the table, almost made you burst out laughing as you stared.

in hindsight, you probably should’ve kept yourself busy, make it any less obvious you were eavesdropping, but you couldn’t help but stare at him. 

one thing was clear, though, and it made your heart feel fuzzy: he cared very deeply for whoever was on the other line, even if he didn’t show it. 

“listen, jameson. i’m currently out, however—“

“you’re out? doing what?” you heard a laugh from the other person—his brother, jameson, —and grayson rolled his eyes. 

“nothing that concerns you.”

you couldn’t stop the snort that followed at the sight of grayson so frustrated, and his eyes immediately flickered to yours. 

“sorry,” you mouthed. 

but to your surprise, grayson wasn’t glaring at you. if anything, he was holding your gaze with a glint of humour in his eyes, and he smiled at you as he held the phone to his ear. 

you heard shuffling on the other end, and then shouts. 

“xander! go call grayson on your own phone, and stop trying to steal mine!” 

“but he blocked me after i kept yodeling in his voicemail! i need to—“ 

grayson ended the phone call just as promptly as he’d answered it. 

he sighed, rubbing his temples, then you saw him power off his phone. he took a bite of his ice cream and then met your eyes. it looked like he almost paused when he did, maybe because you had been doing nothing but stare at him for the past few minutes. you’d probably be a little weirded out too. 

“your brothers seem funny,” you commented, taking another sip of your milkshake. 

he shook his head slightly, “i believe chaotic or headache inducing would be more fitting,” he put his spoon back down, “but, i suppose funny works.” 

you laughed, “yeah, but you still love them.” you told him with your voice a little quiet, “more than anything, right?” 

he nodded, “of course i do. they’re…” he trailed off trying to find the right way to put it, but there was just no better way to put it.

“they’re my family.”

present…

grayson cut the engine and got out of his side of the door, and walked around to yours to open it for you. it was a a small gesture, but it was one that made you pause slightly.

“thank you,” you muttered to him softly, and he nodded as he closed the car door behind you. 

he walked you to the doorstep, and you both stood infront of the closed door.

“is gigi not home?” he asked, nodding his head towards the windows, and the fact that all of the lights were closed.

“yeah, she uh, she went home with noah.” you responded, pressing your lips together in a line momentarily.

grayson was really trying to be supportive, you could tell, but the way there was a slight tick in his jaw and his shoulders sense told you everything you needed to know.

he nodded once again, a slight clench in his jaw. “right.” 

you chuckled as you hit his shoulder slightly, “relax, she’s really happy, gray. he’s not an axe murderer.” 

“i know, i know that.” he said, as he combed a hair that fell into his face, back in its place with his hand.

“but?” you sensed.

“like i said before, with everything that’s happened in our lives… it’s hard to trust anyone fully.”

“it’s not that hard,” you shrugged, trying to ease the tension, because trust issues with was not a topic you wanted to delve into right now. “i trust you, and i know that you trust me. it’s easy.” 

“of course, because we know eachother. i trust you more than most.“ grayson said, but the way he said the word ‘know’ felt like there was more to it, like it went deeper than just the fact that you ‘went way back’.

“yeah,” you sighed, understanding what he was getting at— but you still had to defend gigi. “and gigi knows noah. you should be able to trust her with her choices.”

he didn’t speak for a moment, thinking before he finally spoke. “you’re right.” he almost sighed, his neck strained like he wanted to say more. 

“… is she,” he paused, “is she truly happy?” he asked. you’d said it before, but maybe he just didn’t believe you. 

you smiled, thinking about all the sleepless nights spent with gigi of her giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush, sleepover sessions - even when you lived in the same apartment - with face masks as you laughed and talked about life. she was happier than you’d ever seen her, healed from the things she wouldn’t quite tell you about.

“yeah, gray.” you said softly, “she is happy.”

he tore his eyes away from you, nodding as he looked at the floor. “that’s good, she deserves it.”

after a moment of silence standing under your door, you grinned, trying to take away that pained look on his face as you changed the subject. “you know, earlier that was the second time you’ve said i’m right today. i’m sort of on a streak.” 

the tension broke away from his face as a slow grin spread across his face. “i’ve began to think; when are you not right?” 

“pretty much never.” you put your hand on the door handle, smiling up at him.  “and another one of my perfect, right ideas, is that having a movie night will make you feel infinitely better and stop your overthinking.”

you cracked the door open further as you took a step in, and he quirked a brow up. “i have no room to say no, i assume?”

“oh please,” you scoffed, “you don’t even want to say no.” grayson walked in, and you were already making your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

he shut the door behind him, and you couldn’t see it, but a smile stretched across his face. he shook his head and exhaled a long breath, just before you called out to him.

“i’m going to go do my skincare now, you can pick the movie this time!” 

—

you stood infront of your bathroom mirror, rubbing your cleanser in circular motions on your face. you hummed to yourself, with no particular song in mind. 

you were recalling the whole night in your head, a replay of your favorite moments, and how even the car ride back was fun. 

you wondered what gigi was doing right now, if she was feeling the same sense of happiness.

before you could dwell on that any longer, a soft knock against your bathroom door cut through your thoughts. you splashed water on your face and washed away your face wash.

“come in!”

the door opened softly, revealing grayson on the other side without his suit jacket on, white sleeves rolled up to his forearms for more comfort. 

“are you nearly done?” he asked softly, shoulders leaning against the door frame. not in a way to rush you, or with any sense of annoyance, but because he was genuinely getting bored without you there. 

“almost,” you said as you squeezed out your serum into your hands. 

then you realised you were only on the first step of your routine, ”actually…” you mumbled as you looked at your hands, “this might take a while.” 

when you brought your eyes back up to his, he was looking at you in the strangest way, in a way you’d never seen him look at you before, and let out a breath of a chuckle.

grayson was still standing oddly in the doorframe, though you doubt odd was the right word, you said. “you can um, come in, if you want.”

he walked in, the door shutting softly behind him as he stood next to you behind the sink. 

he picked up the serum you had just put down, and began to read the ingredients on the back of your skincare as you finished up. he offered a slight hum of approval. 

that must’ve been a good sign you weren’t burning your skin off.

grayson turned an unlabeled green tube to you. “what’s this?” 

you hummed, taking your eyes to the product. “oh, that’s a face mask. the label somehow just rubbed off.” you answered half-paying attention.

you took your eyes back to the mirror, before they quickly snapped back 

“wait.” you piped up. “i have an ideaaaa.”

grayson raised a brow as you turned around, “i’ve learned to not trust your ideas.” he said, almost sighing. “what is it?”

you pulled out a pink fluffy headband, one that had bunny ears. “here, wear this.”

“i am not wearing that.”

2 minutes later, grayson davenport hawthorne was wearing a pink headband, with pink eye patches underneath his stormy eyes, and a green face mask on. 

he insisted on applying it himself. 

he also insisted on washing it off just as quick as he had applied it. 

and of course, you were laughing the entire time. he grumbled something under his breath about, “the things i do for you.” 

—

now, you and grayson sat on your couch, opposite ends, a meter ish or so apart. you were halfway through the first movie of the ‘before’ trilogy. there were no lights in your living room apart from the lit candles and the large tv with the movie playing, the room a mix of golden and blue light.

you yawned, reaching for your cold water bottle to help you stay awake. 

the icy water you drank didn’t help though, and you could feel your eyes getting heavier and heavier. 

why were they so goddamn heavy?

maybe it was the sleep talking, but grayson hawthorne’s arms looked extra inviting tonight. 

you shook lightly your head at the thought. you felt grayson look at you in confusion from the corner of your eye, if you were him, you’d be thinking, “is this girl schizophrenic… why is she shaking her head?”. 

you wanted to laugh out loud at that thought, but then you’d look downright mental. you placed you water bottle back on the table infront of you.

you propped your elbow on the armrest of the sofa, your head resting in your hands.

as the two main characters in the movie talked on a train, your eyelids were begging to close. your head shot up slightly every time you’d reopen them, willing yourself to stay awake. 

you took your arm off the armrest and sat with your knees on the sofa, curling up slightly to the other side.

i’m just going to my eyes for a 5 minutes, you told yourself, i’m not even tired.

you stayed true to your word, and your eyes opened 5 minutes later.

only, you weren’t resting on your hand anymore— you were on grayson’s chest, and one of his arms were around you.

you hummed in confusion, using all your energy to get yourself off of grayson’s chest. you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, elbows rested on your knees and face in your hands as you leaned slightly forward.

you took your eyes to the tv in your confused, sleepy state and realised something: the credits were rolling. 

maybe it wasn’t just 5 minutes.

grayson watched you in amusement - only really seeing you from the side and back, “we can turn off the movie, if you’d like. it’s getting late.”

“oh, no. it’s okay,” you attempted to stifle a yawn, but you failed.

“i’m sorry,” you turned your head to look at him, “your movie choice wasn’t boring, i swear,” you giggled, your voice sleepy as you nearly zoned out and fell asleep again. 

“i’m just so exhausted.” you said finally, turning to face him with a small smile on your face. “today was so much fun.”

“it was alright, wasn’t it?” he replied, and you saw the corner of his lips turn up a little. 

you blinked at him, a slow smile spreading across your face. “grayson hawthorne having fun and admitting it,” you chuckled slightly, “who would’ve thought i’d live to see the day?” you nudged him with your elbow, and a smile finally split on his face. 

“you know i always enjoy myself with you, i don’t need to say it.”

“i know,” you said softly as you turned to look at him, the dim candlelight making his eyes look warmer than ever. “it’s still nice to hear, though.” 

“then i’ll tell you more often.” 

your heart did a somersault. “okay, deal.” you hadn’t noticed, but he had sat up fully now — closer to you, and you felt yourself wanting the space between you to be even less. “i tell you my amazing jokes, and you tell me how amazing i am to be around.” 

his eyes traveled your face, “i’d tell you regardless.” he said.”you’re an extraordinary person with a mind like no other. i often find myself fascinated by you.” god, only grayson hawthorne could give compliments that made you feel like you and him were the only people existing. 

“you really think so?” you teased, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“i know so,” he murmured quietly, “and i know you.” at this point, every nerve in your body was screaming for you to break those few inches between you and just kiss the boy already. 

you didn’t, though. 

it looked like grayson was facing the same internal dilemma as you, because his eyes were on your lips far too much for it to just be friendly. he leaned in slightly, and you felt your own breath hitch.

you whispered against his lips, “what are we doing?”

“we can stop,” he said. “we should stop.”

he didnt sound like he wanted to stop.

in fact, he didn’t even look like it, with the way his eyes were so trained in your lips.

you hesitated for a second. all the times you’d spent with grayson played on a loop in your mind, like all the time waiting, not understanding your feelings, and loving him silently were suddenly so worth it. 

“i’ve never been too good at should.”

you noticed his lips twitch upwards at your words, just before he finally pressed them to yours. the way his breath hitched did not go unnoticed. 

the kiss was soft and tentative as you finally crossed the border you’d been tiptoeing around for the past few years.

one of his hands moved to hold your jaw, the other steady on your waist. they felt cold yet somehow comforting.

maybe this was what you needed.

he began to lean forward into the kiss, his weight shifting until you feel him pressing down slightly. you let yourself fall back and feel the couch arm against your shoulders as he kept leaning, his arms bracing on either side of you. 

he was close, closer than before, closer than ever with his chest almost brushing yours, but for some reason, neither of you stopped.

until you remembered: oh, right. oxygen.

when you pulled back you were breathing heavily, both of you were. 

your whole body felt like it was on fire,

you never understood what people meant by their face feeling hot or knowing that they were blushing, but now you got it.

you just hoped you didn’t look as flushed as you felt.

your hands quickly moved up to his face, pulling him down into another kiss again.

it was like, now that you knew how it felt, you had to keep having it.

you were addicted to grayson hawthorne’s lips. 

and by the looks of it, he was addicted to you too. 

this time, when he pulled back, you propped yourself up on your elbows and fully let yourself breathe.

“was that—“ grayson hesitated, “are you alright?”

here you had grayson davenport hawthorne, sitting right next to you on your couch, with ever so slightly messy hair and flushed lips, asking you if you were alright. 

“yeah,” you ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, “yeah, i’m alright.” 

grayson’s smile almost matched yours after you said that,  “i’m glad,” he said.

“are we…” you trailed off, not knowing exactly what to ask. especially with grayson’s gaze so focused on you— your mind felt blurry.

“are we going to finish the movie?” you managed to come up with; the next installment of the trilogy you had started to watch with him already began to play.

“you’re tired,” he answered, grey eyes cutting through yours, but they still felt soft somehow. “you should sleep, get some rest.” 

“yeah,” you nodded, mind hazy, barely hanging onto his words. you really were tired.

“you couldn’t possibly understand how long i’ve wanted to do that.” he let the words fall off his lips, eyes trailing down to your mouth before he looked all around your face.

“do what?” you knew exactly what.

his eyes focused on yours. “kiss you.”

your cheeks reddened, but you couldn’t not tease him. 

“i mean, how long, exactly? a timeframe would be nice, maybe, or even like a rough estimate—“ 

you cut yourself off at the sound of his low chuckle as he shook his head, as he ran his hand over his mouth.

you felt like you could skip through a million fields, jump up and down for days, and at this rate, never stop smiling. you were so keenly aware of your heartbeat, of every nerve ending buzzing with energy. 

“sorry, i just…” you cut yourself off with a laugh, you seemed to be finding eveyrthing funny. you weren’t sure if that was the lovesick haze in your mind or the lack of sleep making you delirious.

“i’ve also, um. you know…” talking about your feelings was never easy for you, even when it was with someone you knew better than anyone. “wanted to— i mean, i’ve liked you.” 

he slightly narrowed his eyes jokingly, “you don’t seem that assured of yourself there.” he deadpanned, making you push away his shoulder playfully.

“stop,” you mumbled, hiding your face with your hands for a second. “you know better than anyone i can’t say talk about my feelings like that without wanting to throw up.” 

his eyes softened even further, even though you were taking a humorous tone and chuckled at the end. “i know.”

the corners of your lips turned up slightly, for no real reason other than how happy you felt, “

“i should leave, it’s late. gigi will be coming home soon.”

“yeah,” you nodded as you ran a hand through your hair, “you probably should.” 

“i wouldn’t like to,” he specified, “but, it’s more sensible.” 

“yeah. sensible.” you nodded once again, “sensible is good, you’re right. it’s really late.” you laughed for no reason, not even too sure if the words that were spilling out made any sense.

you said goodbye at the door once again, and this time, you felt brave enough to his kiss his cheek goodbye. the action took a lot of courage, even though he had practically been on top of you 30 minutes prior. 

it was actually time for you to go to bed now, and you rolled over relentlessly. you couldn’t count how many times you replayed the moment over and over in your head. 

you brought a hand to your mouth as you fought a smile.

grayson, the boy you’d known since forever. his lips, yours. 

seriously, what was your life? 

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast

[tarysande]

I made the original post in 2014. Ten years ago. Which is ... incomprehensible to me, quite frankly. And I was talking about a time several years earlier. So, Grace Shepard has been a part of my life for almost, what, 14 years?

In the last few months, I've fallen in love with Mass Effect again. (I was never OUT of love with it, but I was burned out and overworked and I hadn't played anything more demanding than match-3 games on my phone for years.) It still holds up. It still connects. It still taps right in to some vein of creativity that never seems to dry up (even though I haven't had the chance to create much lately).

What blows my mind in the best possible way is that here's a trilogy (and Andromeda, I know) that's been around AND FINISHED for over a decade, and yet the fandom is still thriving and new folks are still finding it.

And Grace is still as important to me as she ever was.

So, here's to the old fans and the new; here's to the fans just finding this game, and the ones who are no longer here with us to celebrate hopeful, loving, sometimes-silly things like N7 Day. Pour one out for this game that keeps on giving, all these years later. I'm so glad it's been and continues to be part of my life, my creativity, and so many of my friendships.

This is Grace Celeste Shepard. Colonist. War Hero. Infiltrator. If you’re following me, you probably know her. I’ve written a few novels’ worth of fanfiction about her. To say nothing of the reams of headcanon and answered questions I’ve tackled over the years. I talk about her a lot. She’s become incredibly important to me.

And I never expected to love her. If I’m honest, I never really expected to finish playing her game.

Grace and I met a little over three and a half years ago. Mass Effect 3 was about to drop, and I was seeing a ton of ME stuff all over my usually-Dragon-Age-heavy dash. I was skeptical, but I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

I came to Mass Effect reluctantly, like a kid who really wants to go swimming but is too afraid to dive in. I expected the water to be cold, or full of weeds. Imagine my surprise when I dipped my toes in and found it perfectly warm and clear and inviting.

Grace and I have been through some rough stuff together. I’ve almost killed her a few times. I’ve made her nearly starve to death, nearly freeze to death, nearly forget herself. I’ve made her doubt her own sanity, her own personhood, her own purpose. I dropped a couple of unexpected adopted kids on her. And, you know? She’s never given up on me. Her voice has never gone silent; she’s always been there with her story, waiting for me to catch up and play the scribe she knows I can be. She and her story have carried me through two international moves, through loneliness and isolation so intense it felt unsurvivable, through doubt and fear and frustration. She’s introduced me to more people–friends, fans, fellow fandom flailers–than I ever thought imaginable. What a gift that is. I will always, always be grateful to her–and to Mass Effect–for it.

So, Happy N7 Day, Grace. Happy N7 Day to all the Commanders Shepard out there, and the people who love them. And Happy N7 Day, BioWare. Thanks for giving us such a treasure to play with.

[nylloth]

Well, now opinion

What I dislike most is that Viktor is always a victim of circumstance. Not a single decision is made because he wants it that way. Except perhaps his hand when he decided to do the experience without shimmer. But that's the foundation of his character. To come to progress on his own. How could they be so stupid to remove that.

His transformation is now awarded to Jayce “you're the monster I created”.

I really love his new design, his body, he looks great. We're still in for a change though, because he has to go through another transformation. But the way exactly he got that body….. I don't like it. I also believe his body is unlikely to change much in the next transformation. Source? Pony again. Will there be a third arm? I don't know, since he uses MAGIC, not technology.

I'm really glad they added Sky. Even though it's a hexcore illusion, you can see how Viktor looking at her. That's the only way hexcore can control, motivate, and inspire Viktor. Because Sky is important to him and it seems like he would do anything for her. Be prepared for Sky haters to show up again because “it's so illogical and actually according to my headcanon…” when that “headcanon” was zeroed by the writer two years ago.

You can also 100% say they made him a cultist and his figure looks VERY RELIGIOUS. I also think there's a chance that Viktor's blood triggered the whole process. Because the first time he spilled his blood was when he coughed.

His blood may have gotten into the core, but that's just a theory. The pacing is bad, but apparently should be justified by the third act. Because the third act has to be longer than the others. Absolutely happy to hear other people's opinions on this topic.

[maladaptiveobsession]

*pokes you politely*

How would bailey deal with the pcs suicide death? Loved the headcanons for the LI's (I almost cried) but what about or detested dearest?

“Too little, too late” pt.2

➥ pt. 1

➥ Synopsis: Bailey’s reaction to the player’s suicide.

➥ Contains: gn!reader, male!bailey, yandere!bailey, suicide by hanging, descriptive death

➥ Words: 905

➥ A/N: Again, do not take the content warnings above lightly. Bailey’s sentiments and the player’s death is described in detail. His feelings are quite complicated and couldn’t possibly be explained in short excerpt format, so this entire post is dedicated to him. Unfortunately, it seems that every character I write for ends up obsessive and infatuated. Still, I hope this is to your liking.

Assuming you’re a dependent, nothing more or less, he’s not all that distraught. More so annoyed. You wouldn’t be the first of his orphans to off themselves, and you certainly wouldn’t be the last, but fuck if the paperwork wasn’t infuriating. Being honest, he had grown partial to you. Of all the little shits, you were his favorite. Really, he thought you were tougher than this. What a shame. He’ll remember you, though with less clarity over the years. He very occasionally entertains thoughts of who you’d have grown into given the chance. Additionally, he might sell your body if the demand is high enough.

Now, having developed a deeper bond than that of caretaker and charge, he’s certainly not taking your death well. For so long now, he’s handled difficulties with violence and retaliation. Had you simply been murdered by an overzealous pervert, he’d have an outlet for his aggression. But no, as your own killer, there's no culprit to make pay. There’s nobody to blame but perhaps himself.

Your entire relationship had been new territory for him. It had been so long since he had felt anything beyond exhaustion and annoyance, even longer since he had developed genuine attraction. There was much struggle navigating the terrain. Despite his fondness of you, you still owed a debt. Regardless of whatever feelings he harbored, he still had a job to do. Attachment was weakness, and fuck if he didn’t have enough enemies sniffing about for any sort of leverage. His outward indifference was protecting not only himself but you and that other little shit you cared for.

Really though, his attitude towards you swung violently. When his feelings first began manifesting, denial crept in. He cracked down on your payments, showing no leniency. You were auctioned off into increasingly worse and worse circumstances. Yet there were times he was neither the ruthless extortionist nor the iniquitous instigator that had recently surfaced; rather, a disturbingly gentle caregiver took his place. This sudden disruption in his behavior confused and alarmed you.

A long while passed before he returned to clarity, reluctantly accepting his growing obsession. He reflected on your relationship, and his stomach swelled with jealousy, heart heavy at the thought of anyone else touching you. To your disturbance, he became increasingly more controlling and possessive, isolating and restricting you.

At some point, the money no longer mattered to him. He stopped advertising you to his patrons long ago. You belonged to him, and nothing would change that.

His sudden, inexplicable infatuation scared you. Though he'll never know for sure, you must have come to the conclusion that your freedom would only be granted through death.

By no means was he a good lover—something he was well aware of. He didn't need to be told just how unhealthy your relationship was. He doesn’t feel much remorse; you were his to do whatever he pleased with. He was selfish at times, but he always acted in your best interest, regardless of how violently you fought against him.

For all his faults, he kept you safe. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep you unharmed and in his grasp, even if that meant hurting you.

The only fault he acknowledges is that he didn’t pay enough attention to you.

Had he seen past your aggression, he'd have known you were a suicidal fool and would have locked you away where only he had access. There, death would only visit you in your dreams.

Familiar numbness engulfs him after you pass. He won’t lower his walls again; he can’t afford the heartache and betrayal. The townsfolk notice his increased bitterness since your passing. The orphans whisper amongst each other about how much more ruthless he’d become since then.

Bailey works himself to the bone, desperate to forget. He never thought he’d miss anyone, least of all you; he never thought he’d need to. You’re supposed to be here, but he got careless.

He grieves silently. Everything reminds him of you. The weight of your death crushes him, leaving no room for even contentment. He'll spend the rest of his life regretting, always wondering if you might have reciprocated given the time.

He won't cry, but the grief in his eyes is indicative of his misery. He misses your voice, your smile, and your laughter. He regrets not taking more pictures. Above all, he misses the calm moments you shared: sitting in his lap, cheek pressed against his chest with his hand cupping your waist, as you tried not to nod off while he diligently read through stacks of paperwork. At night, he dreams of you; sometimes memories of your laughter. Most nights, he's reminded of the way your body hung limply. He remembers the struggle to cut you loose, revealing raw rope-shaped bruises across your neck. He remembers gathering you in his arm—still warm but growing colder—and nearly crashing his car in the rush to get you to the hospital. He doesn’t remember much of what happened after, but he knows there’s a fist shaped-hole in the waiting room, and Harper is noticeably more on edge around him.

Years go by, and your death still plagues him. Your absence has left him hollow and void, more so than ever before.

His carelessness cost him everything. How could he let the comfort and security you brought him cloud his judgment? What a fool he had let himself become.

[to-rise-above-monsters]

how i interpreted the bertholdt thing was that armin’s understanding of annie deepened bc of bertholdt’s memories, not that it necessarily controlled his feelings (like how eren implied)

i reallyyy like aruani as a concept. they mean so much to me. ‘girl who doesn’t care for life’ ‘boy who cares so much’ (i also just love them as characters so much)

i think the downside for them was how long ago s1 was.

warning rant underneath (im embarrassed im so sorry)

i’d been such a long time fan but dropped off when there was a hiatus of the anime and decided ill just binge the manga when it’s done. the only real reason annie was on my mind was bc of how dedicated i was to the rba dynamic and how much i loved annie (and fanon annie) as a character. but she truly wasn’t a character for nearly half of the series.

i even knew someone who saw her in the crystal and asked me “who’s that?”

i think she suffered from fandom slightly but now it being canon ig they were right. it was a little annoying for fandom (a small part of it) deciding that every character needed to be paired off with each other and that annie must be in love with one of the boys she tolerates. maybe that was a small reason i found the canonicity so out of nowhere?

bc i love fanon ships for sillies but making a female character HAVE to hinge on a relationship with a man rubbed me the wrong way. but that’s not what aruani is in canon and im so thankful for that. but i still wish there was more

it sucks because there was really no way of developing her or their relationship while she was in the crystal and idek how someone could properly execute it but it was very jarring for her to come out of an absence that was longer than the timeskip for the readers. we hadn’t even seen her for i think six years? and then immediately she is fully canon with a character that we had followed for all the time she’d been missing.

idk i wish they had more. i wish it wasn’t hints. i wish it wasn’t the assumption that they must be romantic because of this, this and this.

their stuff in season 1 was so nice. i remember being so intrigued. but that’s all it kinda was? we never had a reason. why did she spare him? why did she seem to care about him in particular? why did she want to ‘be a good person’ for him? so interesting.

but we… never get an answer? is it because he called her nice? she clearly had empathy for him before that. but that wasn’t something ever shown. even the compilation of moments always seems to start in the middle of a blossoming relationship. there was never a moment that solidified their mutual respect and interest for each other. it’s just something that just… happened? off screen?

rereading all these years later, i can catch these things and be like ohhhh yeah ig that was them liking each other. but when it was happening in real time, it was the most jarring and insane jump. i was like woah woah buddy what is going on.

sudden blushing and confession was so crazy to me. it felt so sudden. and so did other ships. it felt like “ofc they were in love the whole time they’re a woman and a man who have some interest in each other”

honestly, something that could have been implemented maybe was that armin was genuinely talking to her not because he was in love with her but he did genuinely ‘want to see her’. maybe a scene of him reflecting on maybe why he wanted to talk to her so badly (he kinda does but i want it to circle back to his regrets and maybe acknowledging all the times she spared him or cared about him to a certain capacity). maybe a flashback of why annie respected armin so much. or when their relationship started.

and maybe showing him visiting her throughout? but from a lore perspective, i feel like that still wouldn’t work. sigh im so sorry. i have so many feelings and I don’t think I’ve ever actually written it out before 💀

idk im so sorry im rambling SO BAD. i think snk deserved to have a lot more breathing room and filler. letting my children just breathe and talk for a second. (i think that’s why junior high was so good and so well received)

i love this manga so much and i know some people hate the ending but i personally really love this series and it’s overall message and think it’s so well written. and i love anyone who is passionate about anything and loves things. i just like to write improvements or brainstorm headcanon/how i would tweak things🙏

anyways

isayama put his whole pussy into making yumihisu so explicitly romantic and intimate and loving throughout their entire relationship and decided he was done for the day<3

why did isayama put his whole pussy into yumihisu after saying he can’t write romance. and then fumble when it came to the straights.

[chargoeson]

Hello! Writeblr re-Introduction

hiiiii pals! I made my writeblr introduction last year and it was such a good intro to the community! but as time goes on and organizations fall i want to re-introduce myself and my writing without any associations.

my name is Charlotte, but you can call me Char as well. She/Her, I'm 25, queer, and live in the Pacific Northwest of the United States.

I write literary fiction with a special affection for surrealism and dream-like vibes. I do have a couple soft fantasy and short story projects that I've made posts for, but I'll stick to my litfic on this pinned post as they are my passion projects!

themes I often explore in these books are: isolation, anxiety, complex relationships between mothers and daughters, bisexuality, winter, dissociation, and overall rural misery!

I have a bachelor's degree in English Language and Literature and paid special attention to Gothic and Romantic movements.

on top of writing, I also love quilting/sewing, collage making, playing Stardew Valley and Baldur's Gate 3, and doing DIY home renovations.

Reading is my passion, even more so than writing! My favorite authors are Murakami, Mieko Kawakami, the Bronte sisters, Iain Reid, Han Kang, and Ottessa Moshfegh.

my three main WIPS can stand alone but are technically a trilogy. read about them after the cut!

The Ballad of a Blue Whale-- This novella was written in November, 2023. It follows Maren Hara, a recent college graduate who has to move back in with her father, a rigid and unfeeling doctor. To cope with the emotional distance of her father and the slow dissolution of her relationships she begins walking through the night. Both to be away from home and removed from her current life. It’s during these walks she finds a jazz bar in an adjoining city. The patrons, and especially the owner of this bar, captivate her. At the core of the narrative is her inability to open herself to others, and how attempts to do so are physically and mentally cataclysmic, although necessary. As she finds herself, she loses both her old life and this interim space. 

I Want to Build a Home with You-- This novel is in the first draft/development stage. I began in December, 2023. Its events follow Leonie Richards as she walks her grandmother, famed novelist Hellen Barnaby, through the final weeks of her life then inherits her home. Leonie, once an infamous performance artist, decides to settle into a life of portrait painting for a small but wealthy pool of clients left to her by her grandmother. Her old peers. After Hellen’s death, Leonie’s final connections to the outside world are her strange clients, the art store clerk, and her uncle Ox who is embittered by his lack of inheritance. The longer she stays in the home, the stranger things seem to be. She wakes up ragged, dirt under her fingernails with memories of a rock formation in the forest she has never seen. Forest spirits or generational curse, there is a limerence threatening her life. 

No Glory-- Special Agent Seth Barnaby has been tasked with investigating the mysterious, possibly cult-associated murders of young women across the state, but this one could be the key. To decode the newest set of clues he teams up with Director of Anthropology Dr. Miel Noh and they get into the field. The small town misleads them at every turn, from an odd boy named Calf to the corpse of a girl who was staying in his family’s motel. With Seth’s checkered past he recognizes the patterns, but time is of the essence and if they don’t find answers another woman could die. With no way out, they return to the only lead Seth knows: an institutionalized man who confessed to the first murder that brought Seth to the FBI years ago.

and that's a wrap! thank you for reading, would love to reconnect with writers from last year as well as new friends. feel free to slide into my asks, follow, or join the tag list.

tags: @annlillyjose @coffeeandcalligraphy @subtlefires @belovedviolence @onomatopiya @thelaughingstag

[purplehairedwonder]

Helloo do u have any Lawlu + Doffy fic recs (any content rating)? the interactions between those 3 are always so good. Just looove how you write them in your fics!

Why yes, yes I do!

"though the stars may tell us it is so" by pascaliana (T)

Doffy’s a monster, Cora-san had said more than once and Law always wondered but never asked, What does that make me? - In which soulmates are a sacred bond and Law's soulmate is Doflamingo.

"a victory every year" by @betsib (T)

Law finds himself imprisoned in Impel Down, injured and possibly dying. His only company is Doflamingo, who tells him Luffy has been captured too. All in all, not the best way to spend his birthday.

"(Love Will Find a Way) Where Wolves Fear to Prey" by betsib (M)

For the last eight years, Law has been held captive by Donquixote Doflamingo, forced to spend his days as a bunny and his nights in Doflamingo's bed. One day, he sees his chance to flee. A little while later, Luffy finds a lost little bunny on the streets and takes him home.

(Side note: I beta'd this one!)

"as I hold your hollow heart" by @betsib (M)

The Straw Hats pick up Bepo and an unconscious Law after the events at Winner Island. Luffy is more than ready to help him, but when Law opens his eyes, he is a stranger. Meanwhile, Law wakes up in Dressrosa, with Doflamingo's symbol tattooed on his chest and servants calling him "Corazon".

"My Heart Is Still Beating (But I Lost It Long Ago)" by betsib (E)

Law is travelling alone between quarantine zones when he comes across a young man with three bullets in his torso and an unflinching look in his eyes.

"A Smile In My Veins" by @betsib (M)

Law is doing his best to live his life and ignore the fact that he is, technically, no longer alive at all. All he wants is a momentary distraction. Luffy is investigating a series of murders that look like they were caused by vampires, but something seems strange about it. He needs more information. They meet in a bar.

(This is the first fic of betsib's that I ever read, and I knew we had to be friends because our brains are on the same wavelength.)

"Hunger for the Absolute" by ObsidionWingsofMidnight (NR)

When Law woke up from his 500 year slumber, he sure as hell wasn't expecting to get a husband out of it. He also wasn’t expecting to learn that he’d lost a chunk of his memories, or that he’d made new friends during this forgotten time. The marriage thing was weird though. To a king, no less. A very loud, very boisterous, very tactile king that never seemed to stop laughing. And what kind of king wore a straw hat anyway? To top it all off, he still has a million other things to take care of, not the least of which is helping his new husband to secure their kingdom against oncoming threats. But what Law doesn’t know is that there are more dangers lurking than he realizes. Ones from his past that have hidden for centuries, waiting for the right moment to strike. And he’ll need all the help he can get to keep them from consuming him.

"Roll Like Thunder, Burn Like Stars" by killingmonsterswritingthings (M)

Law is a private investigator trying everything to forget his past. But there's ties he can't cut - especially when his past comes back to haunt him in a case. or   “Why do you keep purposefully triggering yourself?” Corazón asked, his voice too close despite the tinny effect of the phone. “I'm still talking to you, aren't I?” Law spat back. It was a terrible thing to say but it was also the only thing he could say without making his hands shake uncontrollably.

(I am absolutely obsessed with this Jessica Jones AU; I've reread it countless times, and it has a vice-like grip on my soul. It hasn't updated in six years, though, sob.)

Enjoy, anon!

[strtravels]

Where relief had sat after the good news, FEAR slowly creped and crawled in, too, as the question was whispered somewhere in the back of his mind, by an unfamiliar voice, WHAT IF THIS WAS ALL JUST A DREAM? Fragments of his own imagination, pieced together as he lay on the hard stone floor somewhere deep underneath the Tower of London – bleeding out – dying. Had enough blood on his shirt, and trousers for it. Dark patched of the once fever-red liquid. The nurse had brought it up, too! He vaguely remembered, now, how she had asked him if he wanted her to see if they had anything they could offer him in replacement, so he could get changed. Had never answered her. Stared into the distance. Waiting. Endlessly hoping.

He looked more awake now; his eyes had focused the moment the nurse had mentioned the magic words. SHE IS AWAKE. Like a light being switched back on again. – Looked at the nurse briefly now too, as if he wanted to say something to her, but he didn’t find the right words and turned his attention back to Kate.

And if he was lying somewhere, bleeding out because he had failed – maybe this wasn’t the worst thing to imagine. Kate, with the colour returning to her face and not as white as the bedsheets. Kate, with a soft expression in her eyes as they met his own. Either way, it just meant he wouldn’t lose her, did it not? While he had given up years ago to imagine what would happen to him after death, at least dying didn’t seem this bad if it meant he didn’t have to live with the loss.

MANAGED ANOTHER SMILE AT HER; a choked chuckle accompanying it, as Kate asked him the question he had already expected. Felt as though they had been here before. They have been. About a year ago, when she had survived another impossible thing. And then she asked him a similar question, too. Boat One. The crew. The rest of the personnel. Only then his answer hadn’t been accompanied by a smile but a tortured expression – not wanting to answer because she deserved a break.

He wouldn’t say it was GOOD NEWS now, but it was easier to answer than the last time. A NOD. The smile still lingering for just a second. “ – the trainees all made it out. I’ll have to arrange with Rebecca and her team that they all get the right support, but we had no casualties on this side.” He didn’t have to mention, that there had been other victims to the attack as Kate had seen them. A few others, too. They would be honoured at the right moment. Wouldn’t be forgotten either.

Stood there for just a moment, until he could feel the nurse’s hand on his arm; giving him a little shove. Now go sit down, the kind eyes seemed to say. OH, he remembered her. The nurse who had given him a vase for the flowers he had brought to the hospital last time he had been here. The same one, who had told him about the aspirin in the water to keep the bouquet fresh for longer. – Odd. The things one could remember.

Still on his feet, he only took a step closer to the bed; not knowing what to do with himself, not to mention his hands, he rested one on the end of Kate’s bed, close to the clipboard with all her information on it. Eyes wandering towards it briefly, before he turned back to Kate and raised his voice again. “ – I spoke to Josh and Vikram… I remember them mentioning it was pure luck that a lot of our scientific staff wasn’t in today…” Not a lie. He remembered it. Not the exact words Josh or Vikram had used, but he remembered the look on their faces. Too many dead already. But they had managed to save so many, too. Even Kate.

Afterwards, it was nothing but a blur, little fleeting moments in time that the more she tried to keep a hold of, the more seemed to slip away. Briefly recalled the ambulance, the flashing lights, the sirens, the shouting and then afterwards, the bright lights of the hospital corridor and the operating theatre. Strange figures in green scrubs with gloves and masks and white caps, all gathered around her like some sort bizarre pantomime. It was the pain that kept rousing her, that searing, blinding hot pain tearing across her shoulder. Fought to keep a hold of that pain, even though she cursed it, hated it, wanted it to be over and done with.

Too stubborn to go quietly...even if there was a voice calling out to her from far away. Somewhere over there, where that bright light was coming from. A voice she hadn't heard for some time now. Katherine....what the devil are you doing here? Gone before she could even really process any of that. Felt like she was falling. No, not falling? Was she?

Woke to the sound of the monitor quietly beeping, squinting up at a pale green ceiling. Could feel soft sheets beneath her and a hard hospital mattress and not another soul in the room save for an older woman with kind eyes that she didn't recognise. Hit her then like a speeding train. UNIT, the tower. The invasion. The alien militia. Had they all made it out? Had they managed to reclaim HQ?

Panicked now, she tried to sit up... but her limbs felt heavy, sluggish to respond.... Felt groggy. At least the pain had dulled, the wound sutured and patched. She could feel the drip in her left arm. That probably had something to do with it. Briefly, Kate felt a strange sense of deja vu. Had she woken up before this? Remembered the surgeon talking to her.

The nurse was quick on the uptake. "No, no! don't even try it! I told them, I said it! I said, I've seen this one before. A real fighter. Never listens, thinks she knows better than the rest of us. There now. Let's get you sitting up before you hurt yourself..." Tried to protest, half offended, half mystified, gawping at the nurse like a goldfish in it's pond and trying to follow what she was saying, ❝ S-sorry, wha-? ❞

But the nurse did not answer, shuffling over to the bed to take the hand remote off it's holder, one hand gently supporting her to sit upright, the other adjusting the bed. The older woman beamed, evidently proud of her work. She dropped the remote back into it's cradle, waggling a finger at Kate, "Now you stay put, I'll just go tell him you're awake..." She paused at the door, tutting, "You gave him a fright love. Got to stop landing yourself in hospital I think, or we'll have to put him up in a bed next yours!" Kate stared after her, completely bewildered for a moment or two. Briefly, she wondered whether she had in fact woken at all.

It was only when the nurse reappeared, bringing with her a familiar face to soothe at least, some of the anxiety, that the words started to fall into place. God....That nurse. It was the same woman from a year ago, when she'd landed herself here after Boat One had gone down... which meant...

Oh. Those large brown eyes softened as she met his, realising just what the woman was talking about, ❝ Ed... ❞ Kate swallowed thickly, words quite failing her in the moment. A hundred and one things running through her mind, unable to pluck a single thread out of them and unravel it into a coherent thought. Could only focus on something she could make sense of right now. And that was work. ❝ ...the tower, are they.... did everyone make it out? ❞

[canisalbus]

you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels

Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.

[sysmedsaresexist]

As someone who remembers how vile syscourse was just a few years ago, when I heard this blog experienced character devrlopment, I was shocked at first. When I found some posts explaining it, I was even more intrigued.

If anyone is open to it, I wouldn't mind a link to any explanation of how you fell into sysmedicalism and how you started unlearning it. I'm genuinely proud of you for that development, because changing your entire outlook on a topic is difficult, especially when you have people who support that old view but not the new one behind you. This isn't meant to be condescending, in case it is read that way.

Syscourse has only gotten more vile, honestly.

This ask kind of comes at an interesting time. Last night, I made a post about the TPA and my extreme hatred for them (that'll never change), but I linked a post from my second Twitter account, which brought me WAY back to my first active move in syscourse.

First off, hi, it's not condescending. I found it's a lot easier to talk about than I thought it would be. It doesn't hurt as much as I thought to say, "I was wrong and being hard-headed." I was expecting ego death, but instead, everyone has been so kind.

I was asked what made me switch sides, but as for my humble beginning...

I spent a good couple years just lurking and watching. I was out in therapy and quietly taking all these questions to my therapist. "Are endos real? Is DID really trauma based? Could I be endo? Is that what you become when you heal from DID?"

Suffice to say, not the healthiest questions. There was a lot of misinformation out there. Through talking to my therapist, I believed I was in the right, and I debated for a long time getting involved to talk about some of the more prominent myths about DID.

But then.

Then.

I met Bethany.

Well, I didn't meet her. She blocked me immediately. She was a social worker, and a pro endo, DID system, but I really didn't like the way she talked down to CDD systems.

She was actually huge on Twitter, she had her own website and everything for sex positive therapy, she was doing interviews, she made wild claims about what kind of work she had done in the field, sob stories about clients that didn't make it. She had just started something called the Dissociative Society of Canada.

She was BIG.

And she was a liar.

I'm actually genuinely curious if anyone remembers this, it was seriously a huge, DESTRUCTIVE event to hit BOTH communities.

The Dissociative Society of Canada was real. She started it. But she was not a social worker. Her stories weren't real.

Having done all the same schooling myself, in the same province, with the same rules, I knew she was lying, and I called her out for it.

The pro endo AND CDD community attacked me HARD. I was told I was harassing and stalking, I remember reading the post that called for people to mass report me and I remember the emails starting to flood in from Twitter from countries that required the email be sent for reports. The only posts I had made on Twitter had been about Bethany, but people were talking about who I must be as a person and why I was so angry and jaded and terrible.

Eventually, Bethany admitted it. She never publicly apologized. She made her board of directors do it for her in a letter about shutting down the society (they hadn't known either). I was able to get her listed as an unlicensed therapist to avoid (she's still on there). The Dissociative Society of Canada was shut down after only a year.

And I felt terrible. I hated myself. The posts that came out afterwards about how much people had loved Bethany and how their trust had been destroyed, people that had done therapy with her and were permanently damaged by the lie. She had given a lot of people hope, but it was all a lie.

That was my fault. If I hadn't said anything, I don't think she would have been caught. She was still in school to get her education, she wanted to become licensed, she just wasn't yet.

But it was illegal for her to be providing therapy and telling everyone she was a social worker. She used this title to shut down anyone who disagreed with her, even when she was clearly wrong.

It was a clusterfuck. I came out of it DESPISING endogenic systems for the harassment and misinformation, and the lies about ME. I hated the desire to ignore her unlicensed, illegal actions simply because she had been a prominent voice for the pro endo community (seriously, people wished I hadn't done it, that she had never been called out and had continued her work).

This was my first real interaction with the pro endo community. A lying POS and a bunch of endos lying about me.

I started JAS around that time, and we all know what happened from there. My first post was about the myth of the 10% non-traumagenic in the DSM (it's a misquote).

I don't want to say I wanted to replace Bethany-- I wanted to show how someone who wasn't licensed could still advocate without lies, I wanted to provide that same level of educated discussion, I actually heavily considered putting together a licensed team to start another dissociative society. I debated getting licensed to do it myself.

Unfortunately, life doesn't always work out that way.

I did get her Twitter url out of it when she deleted, though. My trophy.

Ending on a sad note, I suppose.

I was distrusting of the endo community, I was angry. I didn't trust anyone for a long time after this. Who would just go online and lie like that?

It took a really long time to get over it and let go of that anger and hurt.

Remember, don't trust anyone or anything on the internet. Fact check everyone and everything, even if you think you already know the answer, or think you know who someone is.

If she hadn't been such an actual bitch to people, I wouldn't have noticed. Seriously. This was the tweet that caught her, no therapist should talk like this to anyone. The concerns raised in the first image mirrored my own exactly, and I would not have appreciated being spoken to that way. I thought, if she IS licensed, she should be reprimanded. But I couldn't find her license, and thus began the downfall of Bethany Killen.

TL;dr if you're lying on the internet, be nice to people :)

While I didn't always live up to my own standards of civility (I can admit that), I TRIED to speak to endogenic systems as respectfully as possible, and my only goal was to NOT be like Bethany. Sometimes I failed, but at least I never claimed to be licensed.

The point is that I'm trying to be better every day. Finally admitting that I was pro endo made it a lot easier to be nice. I wasn't trying to hold up this charade anymore.

And finally, I want to remind everyone that it's not just "the other side" that can do damage or spread misinformation. Our own community can do damage if we don't call each other out, too.

The most damaging thing I've ever seen in syscourse came from another CDD system.

I think I've rambled enough, thank you!

[angsttronaut]

one of the weird things about life expectancies in warrior cats stretching out as the series goes on is that lionblaze is 8 years old with adult grandchildren and showing no signs of age or even retiring, while yellowfang was depicted as old af when she died at the age of 8.

[mariocki]

Shadows of Fear: Did You Lock Up? (1.1, Thames, 1970)

"And they didn't make much mess?"

"No, not really. They forced that door. Smashed the cabinet, slashed a sofa. And kicked a hole in the bedroom door."

"Ah. Big mistake."

"What is?"

"Never lock inside doors. Anything you can to keep them out - but when they're in, let 'em get on with it."

"I'll remember."

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[bunnihearted]

anyway i had a small cup of coffee and a small chocolate wafer yesterday and i didnt experience any pain. future's looking brighter again ☕️🍫✨