#once I get through that I'll probably collect my thoughts and share more here

[the-yearning-astronaut]

Finished my first read through of System Collapse earlier today. I've been letting my thoughts percolate for the past few hours and believe me I have a Lot.

I thoroughly enjoyed it, tho. Did it have everything I hoped for? Ofc not. Did it have everything I needed? Very much so. There were a few things I would have loved to see expanded on but that's what fanfic is for 🥰

#currently doing a much slower reread and highlighting and commenting on everything #once I get through that I'll probably collect my thoughts and share more here #system Collapse #murderbot spoilers #the murderbot diaries #☉ #fox thoughts #sc spoilers #mb spoilers

[tarjapearce]

As My Own

Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .

Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.

WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.

Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?

Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.

Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.

Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.

If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.

------

Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.

When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?

It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.

His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.

He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.

"Dinner time with Roomie~"

The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.

(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.

Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.

Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.

-----

The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.

The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.

The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.

"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."

"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"

Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.

"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.

"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"

"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."

You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.

"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"

Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.

"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"

Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.

"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.

"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"

"You're graduated?"

"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.

"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.

"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."

Jeesh

Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.

"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"

She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.

Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.

But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.

Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.

"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."

"But I can't... afford it-"

"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.

You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you

She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.

You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.

"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.

"I..."

"Sorry if I'm overstepping"

"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."

"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed

"I can't have them"

Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.

"Infertility?"

"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."

You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.

"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."

Could have been

" To me, you... you are."

Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest

"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.

"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."

Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you

"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"

"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"

But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.

Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare

"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly

"No, Gabi, cariño-"

"You can meet him this weekend!"

"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"

"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."

You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.

"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."

"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"

"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.

-----

Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.

In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.

Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"

------

3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.

Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.

Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.

"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.

"Sorry for... the late hour."

"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.

"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.

"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.

"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.

"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."

His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.

"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"

"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"

Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.

"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.

"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.

"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.

"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.

Miguel entered in spectator mode.

"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"

"Can I have it tomorrow?"

"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.

Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.

"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."

"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.

"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"

"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.

Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.

" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."

"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."

"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.

"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."

"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine

"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."

"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."

"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."

Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.

"I hope she hasn't-"

"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."

"It's the people around her that I don't trust"

"Ouch..."

"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together

"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"

You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.

"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.

"What about, today at 7 pm?"

"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.

"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)

You just laughed and put the food in the fridge

"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"

"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."

"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.

"Sleep well, Papa."

He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.

------—----

And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.

Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.

Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom

"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.

--------

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."

"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"

Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.

"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."

"That doesn't mean I can't try-"

"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked

"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.

"I think it's time to try something new."

"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face

"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."

"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."

"Ouch."

--------

Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.

To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.

It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.

Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.

"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.

Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.

And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.

"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.

"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"Missed you, preciosa".

What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.

He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.

Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.

He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #t writes✨ #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #dad miguel o'hara #gabi o'hara #Fluff #miguel fluff #miguel o'hara fluff #fem reader #atsv fluff #astv fanfic

[angelfoodcake222]

I'm back on my LMK x Hurt!Reader kick!!! Yippee!

"How would these characters react to their friend or S/O, Y/N, coming home after a big fight that made them temporarily forget about a prescheduled meet-up at their (Y/N's) place?" &/or something to that effect. Here's what I have for Mei, Pigsy, Tang, & Sandy.

TW: The reader [that's you] gets into a big fight. Mentions of combat, blood, violence, & bandaging/suturing (like that big, curved needle & all that). Comfort at the end of each.

A/N (Author's Note): I'm labeling this as NSFW as it is dealing with violent elements. I'll make a traditional NSFW version if this one gets some traction via likes & comments. Since there is often a lot to read in one sitting, I'll sever this up to a select few for now. even with the splitting, it is still a fair bit to read. On with the reading, enjoy.

🐉Mei Dragon

>She was so excited about some one-on-one time with you, finally!

>She had set things up to the nines for you; favorite snacks, drinks, fast-paced racing games & movies, karaoke, you name it.

>She was in her cozy PJs, snug on a mound of pillows & blankets that looked like a dragon lover's dream collection (she contributed a few things as you asked her to let you do you, "earn them yourself" as you put it).

>She agreed so long as she got to gift you some things on special yearly occasions; birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, etc. You can bet your bottom dollar that each & every single gift she got you fits you to a T. To the point where it's nearly uncanny that you'd gotten used to it quicker than you thought you would.

>Just as she reclined to stretch out on the cozy hill she heard the door to your apartment swing open against the dense drywall followed by a hard thud generously seasoned with curses in your voice.

>She felt a pit in her stomach, suddenly forgetting her want to stretch, slipping & sliding in her plushie dragon slippers to the source of the pained grunts to find you on the linoleum part of your doorstep.

>Your torn, tattered shirt did little to stop your essence from oozing onto the generic tile below you that acted as a mini-mudroom of sorts. Your jeans shared the same fate with your shoes soaked like the floor mixed with once-stagnant water.

>Mei was seething at the damage to your body & your favorite wardrobe choices as they were gifts from her, gifts you had been maintaining near-religiously.

>You loved those threads, too. You even scrounged to buy her a matching set that was safe in her room at her family's home.

>"Who did this to you, bestie!?" "Gimme a name, a face, license plate, I'll teach 'em to mess with you!"

>Your low chuckle surprises her until she spots the dark markings on your knuckles & knees. You fought back, brutally from what she could tell, too.

>"Don't worry, Mei Mei, I handled them well enough. They won't be giving me any more trouble anytime soon. Mind helping me to the bathroom to patch up?"

>Your smile is crimson, gums ooze, but you move your tongue over your side-front teeth as if to free something from between them. Had you taken a bite out of one of your attackers? Probably.

>That's a question for later.

>As you asked, she aided you to the bathroom. All the moving & stretching caused by said movements began releasing more of your life's essence, staining the wood-themed vinyl as you both shuffled to the small bathroom where you had stashed a massive first aid kit in. The kind medics would pack with them.

>Your hand shuffled through the open kit once you were seated on the closed toilet's top as Mei fidgeted in the doorway a mere three feet from you.

>"Those are some deep wounds..." She mused aloud, cringing when you pulled a suture needle out, its curved sturdy form shining in the dim light overhead.

>"That's why I got this." You spy her flinch in your periphery.

>"It's okay if you don't want to be present for this part, Mei Mei. You can step out if you'd like." She frowns pitifully.

>She wants to be there for you to help with your injuries. Holding the kit open for your convenience at the very least, but she just felt so uncomfortable around needles of nearly any kind. She doesn't know why & you never pressed for a reason.

>Once you calm her down, she agrees to step out & close the door dejectedly behind her.

>She nearly slipped on some drops of red that pooled under your foot when she was fighting with the weirdly shaped door handle.

>That's dangerous! You could slip & reopen your freshly stitched wounds! Not on her watch!

>Your robe, a usually soft & comfortable garb, felt different from your hides as you carefully tied it. The soft fabric snagged on the fresh stitches & raw wounds that simply needed to be cleaned. You would have bandaged them to hasten the healing process, but you had forgotten to restock that aspect in your arsenal of medical aids.

>Honestly, you blame the treats you passed by & began ogling on an empty stomach on your way to the pharmacy.

>Aching & fatigued, you limp to the door but stop at the smell of cleaning products.

>She had cleaned the whole apartment in the time it took you to join your severed skins back together. She was walking out with an emptied bucket adorned with an old rag & other scrubbing tools.

>A soft tilt of your head was all the "Thank You" she needed.

>You helped put the supplies away & together you both eased into the mound to enjoy the setup Mei had made up for you.

>Soon enough, your eyes drifted down seemingly with gravity hauling your lids over your eyes.

>Slumber came swiftly.

>While you rested, Mei paused her half of the game your character would have nearly crashed in if she hadn't put her avatar between yours & the obstacle right as she paused.

>With as light of a touch as she could muster, she pulls the fluffiest blanket over you to tuck you in. Good & cozy.

>With that, she began her research.

>She had faith & trust in your brawling abilities, she promises she does & you believe her, but she just couldn't let this go without having some tabs on whoever hurt you. Just to be safe.

>As much as she hates to admit it, she was happy to be able to see the imprint of one jerk's insignia ring that was left on your forehead.

>Tracking that scumbag & his buddies shouldn't take much time at all...

🐷 Pigsy

>He sat patiently in your kitchen, watching the pot's lid rattle with trapped steam as the dumplings cooked.

>You had both agreed to watch the Chang'e Cooking marathon you had both been excited to watch for over three months now.

>It took a little time to convince him, but he agreed on the condition that you cooked together while watching the countdown to the marathon's start.

>You agreed.

>Unlike the others who set up mountains of fabrics & pillows galore, he set up something simple: a couple of blankets, some pillows, healthy little snacks to follow the meal you were both going to make, that's it.

>He had stood up to check the noodles & dumplings when you staggered in, once-bagged groceries cradled in a gifted/found basket under your less bandaged arm before noticing your friend standing in your open kitchen.

>You thought back quickly to that scene in the park half an hour ago leading to your home, when some punks were picking on some unfortunate granny & her friends.

>How could you just walk away & turn a blind eye to such an attrocious act of disrespect & inhumanity!?

>The battle was gruesome, to put it lightly, but the Granny Squad managed to ban together & help you.

>One of the ladies gifted you her recently emptied sweets basket & head scarf to hold everything together after helping you wash the goods off with a nearby hose. Once that was taken care of, they focused on you & on as much as they could help you with (which was quite a lot).

>With cleaned ingredients in your arms, you thank the ladies fervently & dash off to put the items into proper storage.

>"Aw, noodles! The marathon!" You grit through blood-stained teeth as Pigsy blinks.

>He looks like he's stuck between shocked, confused, worried & upset.

>The countdown showed that there were still a couple hours left before the show started, so you looked to the boar in your kitchen sheepishly before shifting the tucked container to holding the covered basket of goods.

"Sorry about the ingredients, I tried to clean them as best as I could..."

>You tried to explain before he shook his head.

>Carefully, without causing any extra discomfort for you, he took the ingrediants & set them onto the countertop.

>One thing you've learned about your friend in the past few years of knowing him is that he may act all big & menacing, but he's arguably the sweetest guy you've known (Right by Tang & MK, of course).

>You thank him & scurry to your bathroom to properly clean up & bandage yourself with the added maintanance of your teeth so you could properly enjoy the meal undoubtedly leading to a taste sensation.

>When you step out to the living room, you're treated to Pigsy setting the last tray of food onto the coffee/tea table with a low grunt.

>For the remaining hour you two sat on the sofa, he bandaged the spots you couldn't reach for one reason or another, shared the dumplings & snacks, & conversed over your favorite Chang'e recipes, all drizzled with him telling you to be more careful on your way home from now on.

>With the finished meals' plates & utenciles cleaned of food & settled into the deep kitchen sink, you all bandaged up, the pair of you slouch into the couch, watching the last few minutes of the countdown tick by in comfortable silence.

"Hey, Pigsy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything."

"No problem, Y/N."

>With that, the marathon began & was theroughly enjoyed.

👨🏻‍🏫 Tang

>You wanted to understand JTTW in-depth, you truly did, but your brain wouldn't let you. Tang to the rescue... Sort of.

>Name the type of Monkey King media available to the public & then some & you've barely scratched the surface of what Tang packed to your appartment with a little help from MK who had to leave for FFM.

>He hadn't done anything to set up your living room in any sort of special way aside from the merchandise & historical items.

>Okay, he got some Pigsy's take out to nibble on throughout the session.

>He even remembered your favorites!

>He just set the last "historically acurate" figurine & its stand onto the coffee/tea table when you groaned through your front door.

>You had stopped by a local supply shop for an ample amount of note taking material, just knowing how Tang was going to get once he got really into his favorite work & figure.

>Simple, mundane, task.

>Notebooks of favored rule (college rule or Wide rule, dotted & gridded paper is also an option), colored pens/pencils of your choosing, Monkey King stickers for Tang ranging from plain to shiny to puffy as a 'thank you' coupled with a Mankey Cop cap to wear whenever he pleased, & some drinks to go with the food he most likely sweet-talked out of Pigsy.

>You were nearly half way home when some ruffians jumped you to snatch the selectively academic & fandom items from you.

>They were most likely trying to steal your large totebag (labeled with "bookworm" in cutesy stenciled characters you had done with MK not too long ago) for the items within it to price gouge the merchandise in person or online, chug the drinks, even misusing the writing materials.

>The fight took a lot out of you, tore your bag & clothes, even saw you getting cut by one of the broken drink bottles when you tripped.

>You still managed to save the rest of the drinks but they partially stained the cap & your notebooks.

>Serves you right (affectionatly) for picking a brand that didn't wrap their product in the same wrapping your pens/pencils & stickers were protectively cloaked in.

>You had to coddle the items in your cut up arms like a baby, your wounds seemingly throbbing into a dull ache when you spotted Tang kneeling next to the figurine of a midflight Monkey King on his Cloud, staff in hand/paw.

>Despite your carrying two or three reminders of your preagreed plans, your focus was rattled about until you turned to settle your tattered bag onto the sofa in your living space.

>He was just as frozen as you were, both standing a few feet from the other.

"Uhm... *clicks tongue awkwardly* Imma go bathe & patch myself up. If you still wanna do this, you can stay. If not, I'll help you pack up once I'm done. Okay?"

>Tang nods nervously, glancing over your battered form & tote before you lurch to your bathroom.

>You were so busy cleaning yourself & clothing your injuries in the stock of medical items that you didn't notice Tang busying himself in the living room: Stitching your bag's edges back together, touching up the character with a marker near the same color group as best as he could, drying the pages of your notebooks with a hairdryer you had forgotten in your nightbag you had left in your living room that you said you'd pick up & put away days ago.

>You stagger out with a sigh to see Tang trying his best to save your sullied materials, seemingly not noticing that the drinks, stickers, or the cap was for him & not for you.

>You quietly watch his back as he mumbled to himself about worrying over your safety, how he'd learn to bandage your wounds whenever you needed, how he'd never let you walk alone again as he would guide you down the safest streets & paths he takes daily, even learning basic self defence to at least grant you a little back up when you needed it.

>Your tired eyes drift about, over the messily stitched up bag, the pencils/pens sitting in their case on the table beside the rest of the items, all surrounding Tang who was a little too focused on not burning your book's pages with the blowdryer.

>Strange how the rainbow of writing items stood out so starkly against the reds & golds that seemingly engulfed his emediate space.

>Without holding it back, you give a soft giggle which startles him into turning your way.

>He accadentilly blasted the dryer's air straight under his face in turning to you causing his hair to tussle wildly over his fogged glasses, earning another giggle from you.

"I- your things were a little beaten up &- well, they neede dto be fixed so you could learn- &- &-."

>Stammering is all he can do at the moment until you boop him from his sitting position as you now stood languidly beside him.

"Tangy, breathe. It's all good."

>He smiles in relief before glancing over the table with a now calmed gaze.

"Is that a Monkey Cop cap!? With the real badge & everything!?"

>He procedes to ramble happily, occasionally looking to you to see if you were listening to him speak before continueing on.

>You peacfully watched his adorable rambling expressions, quitly taking mental notes on whatever you could snag from the 100 mph info dumping.

>Not long after you both finish your meals (A task that took a while as you needed to cease his fanboying longenough to actually eat), you both sat on the sofa watching a SWK action movie of some kind he had picked out for you.

>The movie was good despite the overly amped up sfx & horribly down played dialog audio, though that's most action movies that you're aware of.

>Snoring catches your drowzy attention as you peek down to your side where Tang had slumped over the opposite arm of the couch, fast asleep.

>Knowing he gets enough back pain hunching over a study desk, you stand & lay him onto thsofa in a more comfortable position while removing his glasses to set them on the side table.

>Good thing you had plenty of lap blankets around for him. Pillows, too.

>Kneeling beside the snoring man, you can't help but tuck the blanket in to create a cozy setting for him.

>You'll have to reschedule the study session for later.

>For now, a light snooze sitting up by Tang would do your eyes some good.

Here it is! I haven't picked who I'm writing for next but I'll try to think of someone later. I hope you enjoyed & have a lovely day/night!

#lmk x reader #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk mei #Pigsy #Tang #Mei Dragon

[noctivague]

Revamping my altar - Part 01🙃

Let's ingnore the fact that I ghosted my blog for the most part of this year and jump right in as if nothing happened....

Starting point

I'm a very aesthetically driven person and I'm bored with my current altar, which has been remained the same for a long time. (I thought I had a picture but I don't and it's gone now so oops...)

I want to create something that puts me in an inspired mood just by looking at it. That looks inviting and beautiful and brings me delight and motivation. A little sanctuary nook kinda.

I want to revitalize things and symbolize the new era i'm in, due to the fact that i recently moved into a new flat, got a new job, and overall my life is very different than it was last year.

So here is the journey of making my new altar :) At the moment it's far from done but here is the first part of the process!

Part 02 will follow once I've received the things I ordered, probably at the end of November or early December.

Inspirations

So i went on a quest to find inspirations on pinterest that would sort of align with what i wanted to make.

ngl I dislike most of what I see because I find them too cluttered for my personal taste. The main issue is that i'm clumsy and i hate the idea of my hand having to slither through a forest of objects to be able to grab what i want lol

Still managed to find a few cool examples, here they are:

I love the rough, folk-esque, natural aspects of them, the blend of stone, marble and wood. The branches, the sculptures, the iconic symbols and the fact that there is a variety of heights of things, if that makes sense. I also like having a strong art piece in the middle, which i prefer over having a mirror like many examples i found. Idk i just find the idea of having to stare at myself at my altar a bit uncomfortable lol

But it's still different from what would be authentic for me and also i gotta do with what i have or what i can buy.

The thing is that my altar is not dedicated to a single deity so i can't go with one strong themed vibe but i have to put them all together. Currently, Apollo, Artemis, Hekate, Dionysos, Hermes and Demeter share the same space.

Furniture

Thankfully the new book shelf I got is quite wide and has three levels, which is plenty enough space to give everyone their own space and even host my incense, tarot cards and spiritual books.

I almost sold a kidney to get an antique cabinet, which looked really cool but was not going to fit in with the interior style of my living room, where my altar is located.

So I went in with a more modern yet slightly organic-shaped one:

Not 100% what I was looking for but at least the space is there. Love the curves an the contrast of the two colors, but I wish the wood was darker. I could sand and re-varnish but who's got time for that.

Current state of the sculptures

I've been collecting sculptures and hand painting them for a while now (you can check out my pinned post for pictures of some of them), and although I love what I made, I really want to get some new ones that are higher and I'm even wondering if I should just keep them white and gold instead of colorful.

Also, for the life of me, I can't find a sculpture of Hekate that I like. They either look too bland or too new-agey for my taste. At the moment, I have the classic three women holding torches and stuff that I hand painted in blue, yellow and silver, but idk it's not what I have in mind and I think I'm just going to resort to do clay modelling myself. I'll probably do a separate post for the process!

Btw I'll do a free giveaway in the future to re-home my old sculptures so stay tuned for that!

What I have in mind

Sooo I'm not sure of the exact height and width of the things that I have coming in, and I'm still looking for a strong art piece or relief to go at the center back so I'm not sure if my disgusting mouse-drawn photoshop sketch is going to be accurate at all lol

The more I stare at it the more I think it makes no sense 🙃

So basically, from left to right; Apollo (new statue incoming); Artemis (old statue at the moment but need to upgrade); Hekate in the center (need to craft that); Dionysos (new bust incoming); Hermes (new bust incoming); and on the lower lever Demeter (still love the statue as I think it's my best one so it will stay this way).

Still missing:

one or two candles i use during worship, preferably gold

art piece in the center, either a plaster relief or canva print of something

plant with long falling ''arms'' (idk the word in english)

dried branches to go in the left vase

a way to fix the antlers to the wall

an old key for hekate (need to go to a thrift store)

maybeee a bigger box to store my incense and ritualistic plates and glasses

I don't think I want a table cloth simply because I had one in the past and it was always a mess to clean. Having the bare table is much easier, especially considering that I will burn incense and candles and that gets messy.

---------------------------------

Okay that's it for this long ass post, see ya in a few weeks for part 02!!!

#altar #hellenic polythiest #hellenism #helpol #altar for the gods #greek gods #paganism #pagan altar #hellenic altar

[cyborb]

there have been some asks sitting unanswered in my inbox for an embarrassingly long time so I'm just going to go through and answer a bunch of them at once haha.

Sada and Turo / Paldea

now that the dlc is out I can play around with my own version of paldea's story and the professors (that I may or may not actually talk about), but they won't be in the rainbow rocket stuff with supersymmetry. "officially" at least. maybe I'll draw something for fun, but I don't intend them to actually be in rr like the rest. they're more interesting to me within the story of paldea, especially with the ai aspects and ... other things going on there.

but to the anons who sent me these: those ideas are cool and honestly you should pursue them yourself!

Lusamine

absolutely yes. in the base universe, her "unification" with nihilego kills her pretty quickly. iota lusamine is luckier since her nihilego seems to prefer keeping her around for longer. slow-acting vs fast-acting poisons, I suppose. by the time lusamine is picked up by rr, it's been about 6 months since she became jellyfish. who knows how much time she has left but her mental (and physical) state will continue to deteriorate along the way. an unsurprising consequence of willingly jumping into the mouth of a parasite

possibly? I haven't given that much thought tbh. considering lillie and guzma's proximity to lusamine when she goes motherbeast, they'd both be lucky to make it out alive hahaha. but I could see all three of them trying to help people and pokemon in the UB-overrun world too

honestly, no clue. I don't even think she knows, and she definitely doesn't care. who needs regular pokemon when she's got ultra beasts now! if lillie is still around she might have taken in a few of them herself though.

Other AU stuff

I've actually made a post about team galactic here!

one fun fact about each of them:

maria/mars is giovanni and ariana's first child, and she ran from her home in kanto when she was 16 to become a pokemon trainer and get away from her parents. sorry silver (she hasn't contacted him in a while).

juno/jupiter makes traditional (hisuian) style pokeballs as a hobby despite the fact that they absolutely are not practical to actually use anymore. but they look nice

sterling/saturn helps run the in-universe equivalent of pokemon showdown because he's a nerd. he enjoys simulated battles more than the real thing most of the time

great news: the rainbow rocket invasion all his fault!

by that I mean the choice of the base universe for invasion wasn't entirely arbitrary; rainbow rocket didn't just Show Up and hope this universe had what they wanted. beforehand, someone from rainbow rocket (either giovanni or archer, maybe even colress) scouted things out, and approached faba for information about the general state of the world and necrozma in particular. faba essentially sells out the universe (and aether's work with necrozma) in exchange for the promise of power and whatever tantalizing rewards the rr emissary offers haha. it's possible some of this involves planting a device to let rr come back to the right universe when ready too. what faba is up to when everything is going down in rr is not something that I've thought about, but he definitely gets found out for his actions leading up to it. oops!

unfortunately probably not. the rr stuff is happening on the other side of the planet and I can't think of a situation which might result in them getting to meet up. I'm not enough of an expert on the two of them to say how such a meeting would play out either, but it would definitely be... interesting considering their own universe's version of the other person has been dead for several years.

rose would probably be the least upset about it but cyrus wins the award for most upset (he has control issues). lysandre absolutely would have the most violent response to it though

Compliments

while I'm not going to share the collection of complimentary messages I've gotten over time, I want everyone to know that I really appreciate hearing that you enjoy my ideas and art! it's encouraging and I'm glad people like my pokemon playground hahaha. and that applies to tags too! it's always great to see... I don't always get around to actually answering the stuff in my inbox (whether it's actual questions or otherwise) but rest assured I do see it!

#not art #asks #rr supersymmetry

[justagirlwhowritess]

Song: Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (this man's album has my HEART). Lyrics in Bold

Pairing: Dabi x Fem! Reader (flashbacks in italics) (y/h/n = your hero name)

Genre: Angsty

Warning: Toxic Relationship, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, season 6 spoiler.

I'm remembering I promised to forget you now

But it's raining, and I'm calling drunk

And my medicine is drowning your perspective out

So I ain't taking any fault

Am I honest still? Am I half the man I used to be?

I doubt it, forget about it, whatever

It's all the same, anyways

Dabi’s POV:

“I can’t do this anymore Touya!” she cried covering her hands with her face. I hate seeing her cry. “What do you mean?” The words caught her by surprise. She laughed. “I’m done. Get your shit, get out and forget about me. I can’t deal with you anymore.” her words burned. I felt the fire bubble through my chest, taking a breath as my hand started to ignite. “I will forget you. That’s a fucking promise, doll.” I spat storming out of the apartment we once shared. 

Fuck I was drunk. Sitting in the dark alleyway, fumbling between the bottle and the phone that was shattered. Thoughts from years ago plagued my thoughts. I hadn’t forgotten about her. How could I? I dialed the number I had memorized many years ago. She has had over a decade to change it, to move on. “Hello?” Her sweet voice came through the speaker. She didn’t know the number. Being a villain has its perks I guess. “I miss you.” I slurred into the phone. She groaned. “This, again?” I couldn't see her but I can tell that she is pinching the bridge of her nose. “You don’t miss me. You’re drunk Toyua.” She hung up. This isn’t my fault. She kicked me out. It wasn’t the first time. Wouldn’t be the last. I dialed the number once more. It went to voicemail. I drunkenly tried to collect my thoughts. “Y/n please answer the phone. Do you still think I'm honest? Half the man I was when we were growing up? Please pick up.” I finished the bottle and struggled to open the other, shoving the phone into my pocket. I’m not letting this go. I’m not forgetting her.

I ain't proud of all the punches that I've thrown

In the name of someone I no longer know

For the shame of being young, drunk, and alone

Traffic lights and a transmitter radio

I don't like that when they threw me in the car 

I gave your name as my emergency phone call

Honey, it rang and rang even the cops thought you were wrong for hanging up

I dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'd die for you

“Touya, leave him alone, he didn’t do anything!” She was trying to stop me from beating the shit out of her prom date. I had dumped her about a month ago and she dared to take someone else. He got handsy and I couldn’t control myself. She looked like she needed saving. “No. You asked him to stop. He didn’t.” I spat, throwing another punch. Wouldn’t be the first time I've thrown a punch for this girl and it wouldn’t be the last. “Touya please, that's enough. I’ll go with you, just please let’s get out of here.” She pleaded. I took her hand in mine, the mascara was running down her face. I ruined her night, I can tell, but she would never admit it.

Looking back I probably could have controlled myself better, considering I hardly know her anymore. I stood, stumbling and made my way down the street to her apartment, or the league, whichever was close. “Stop” A booming voice called. Cops fuck. I tried to get away, feeling more drunk than I had just a moment ago. I ended up in the backseat of the car. “Hey, shithead, don't I get a phone call?” I cursed. He grunted but obliged anyway. “Who do you wanna call, asshole?” he spat. “Y/h/n” I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “You want me to call a pro hero to come pick your drunken, villain ass up?” He asked. I nodded shuffling to get my phone out of my pocket to give him the number. “She’s my emergency contact. She always will be.” I huffed. He put the phone on speaker, it rang and rang. “Hello?” the voice gumbled tiredly. I must have woken her up. “Y/n. I need you to come get me, I got locked up. Please.” I hiccuped, the car starting to spin. “Fuck you, Dabi. I hope you fucking rot.” She spat and hung up. “Damn dude, that’s cold. What did you do to her?” The cop laughed. I shook my head. “Too much..Let me call her again.” I spat once we reached the station. The cop begrudgingly agreed. The phone rang and rang. She wasn’t picking up this time.

I'm untethering from the parts of me you'd recognize

From charming to alarming in seconds

I'll be bedridden, and I'll let the pain metastasize

But that's morning, I'll forget it

And the dial tone is all I have

“It’s like I don’t even recognize you anymore!” She pleaded with me as I had gotten locked up again. She came to pick me up without complaint again and again. “Doll, do we have to do this now?” I grunted. “Yes. We do.” She was curt, shoving me into the passenger seat, I drunkenly stumbled but sat anyway, feeling the hangover start to settle in. “Doll, I can’t even see straight.” I hiccuped. She rolled her eyes. “You always do this. I tried to ignore it but I can’t anymore. It’s becoming alarming.” Her tone softened, rubbing the back of my burned hand with her soft thumb. She sighed. “We have to talk about it eventually, Touya.” her words lingered in the air, only to be forgotten in the morning.

The dial tone is all I get of her now. I miss her screaming at me to be a better person. 

I'd die for you

I beg you, sir, just let me call

I'll give you my blood alcohol

I'll rot with all the burnouts in the cell

I'll change my faith I'll praise the flag

Let's wait I swear she'll call me back

"Son, are you a danger to yourself?"

Fuck that, sir just let me call

I'll give you my blood alcohol

I'll rot with all the burnouts in the cell

I'll change my faith I'll kiss the badge

Let's wait I swear she'll call me back

"Son, why do you do this to yourself?"

“Give me one more call. I don’t want to sit in this fucking cell all night.” I spat in an almost pleading tone. I would change it all for her. “We need your blood alcohol to come down before we release you, but we can’t check because you threaten to burn us alive if we get close.” The cop’s attitude had returned. “Let me call her, I will let you have my blood alcohol. I'll even sit in the cell with the rest of these idiots. Just let me call her one more time.” I sounded fucking pathetic, but I knew I could ware her down. She would crumble and come and get me, like she used to. The alcohol has my head swirling but I know I can convince her to come get me, she still loves me, she’s loved me forever. I love her. The cop sighs and hands me my phone. Drunkenly I dial her number for the 5th or 6th time tonight. No answer. I sighed holding the phone to my chest. She will call back. “Son, are you going to hurt yourself?” The cop asked, I felt my burnt tear ducts try to do something. Let’s not cry blood right now. “No. Don’t be fucking stupid. She’s gonna call me back.” The cop rolled his eyes. “Give me the phone. Why do you do this to yourself?” I shook my head, refusing orders, adding that to the charge list with being drunk and disorderly. “She will call me back.” I said with more confidence. Thankfully, she didn’t make me out to be a liar. “Y/n” I picked up on the second ring. “What police station are you at?” She demanded. I smirked, I knew I would get her to crumble. She always has. I gave her the location. “Give me 10 minutes.” She hung up before I could respond. 

The 10 minutes were achingly slow, until she appeared, disheveled, hair a mess, in pajamas, last night's makeup hadn’t been washed off her face, she had been crying, over me, again. She looked beautiful. “Is he free to go, officer?” She asked curtly. The cop looked shocked. “Uh yeah, just keep him inside the rest of the evening.” He unlocked the cell. I was more sober now than when I had gotten here just hours ago. “Get in the fucking car, Dabi.” “Yes ma’am.” I replied, moving past her outside of the station. I got in the car and she just stared at me. “I love you y/n” I whispered, cupping her cheek. “I love you Touya.”

I dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'd die for you

#mha imagines #mha x reader #mha villains #mha dabi #dabi angst #dabi x reader #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki

[downinthedevildom]

Hello! Are you taking matchup requests? If yes, I'd like to send one in for Obey Me

I'll go by ⭐. My pronouns are she/her and I'm demisexual

Appearance: I am South Asian with long wavy black hair. Usually tie my hair in a half ponytail at the back because I like how it looks and I don't really like the feeling of hair on my shoulders. I am 165 cm tall and reasonably fit

Personality: I'm calm, collected and hardworking. I can be a bit aloof and arrogant sometimes, but I make sure it doesn't get out of hand. I am curious and perfectionistic, and I'm also pretty academically smart (though I sometimes struggle with impostor syndrome lol). The gifted kid burnout syndrome is catching up, though. People say I do have a bit of a cold facade, but once they get to know me, they say I'm much warmer and gentler than they initially thought. I care deeply for my friends and my family, so I'll do whatever I can for them. I do face a lot of pressures too from having to be the perfect oldest daughter, the therapist friend (despite psychology not being my major, more of a special interest) and from having to do well in school (as much as I enjoy engineering, it is kicking my ass low-key). It may not look like it, but I'm very much a romantic, but I'm more practical about it, if that makes any sense 😅😅

I often bake my closest friends and family a cake on their birthday with a silly message written on it. I also has a soft spot (special interest) for outer space and love to stargaze wherever the skies are clear. Don't know if this is important, but I do make some pretty mean South Asian food, if I do say so myself. My younger sister says that my Ras Malay especially slaps

Likes: Books, herbal tea, art, lofi hip-hop, video games, anime, drawing, spicy food, affogato, outer space, cats (tho I really like all animals)

Dislikes: Incompetence, unnecessary conflicts, bullies, fake friends dishonesty, cruelty, dog-eared book pages, anyone who dares threaten my family, loud noises, itchy fabrics, insects

Sorry this took a little while Nonnie⭐! Life got a little busy but here I am here to match you with!!!! *obnoxious drumroll* 

Belphagor! 

(Matched by Anon Angel 💜)

So, where to start? I think you and Belphie would get along well. The chill vibes with the Lofi- and the stars? Absolutely. Both of you would find time to relax in the conservatory behind the music room when life in the Devildom got a little too hectic, and well even together that wouldn't change. (bonus points for it being behind the music room so you can play some soft background music for mucho relaxed vibes)  

Though you would probably get along super well with all the brothers, I think you would find your time around Belphie to be more grounding than the others' chaotic shenanigans. He would listen to you talk about the stars of the human world, (though it may lull him to sleep, not because he is bored but because your voice and presence are comforting and pleasant.) Or, he could even tell you the differences between your human stars and the endless night sky of the devildom.

Sure, he sleeps through most lessons and will dig at you for being such a straight-shooter student, but he will probably ask you for your notes over Satan or his other brothers. Partly because they are easy to understand and partly because it gives him more time to spend with you.

this really has little to do with the match but more bonus points so I'm going to add it here, you will never find any itchy fabrics anywhere around this boy, we all know he is the king of comfort! Only soft and pleasant fabrics here! Be that clothes, blankets or pillows he's got them all and if it means making you happy he would even share his favourite pillow with you. (though you may become his personal body pillow if you choose to nap with him.

I think Belphie would be there to help you break out of the mindset that you have to be the perfect, daughter, friend or student reminding you it's more than okay to just be yourself, take a break and let yourself mentally and emotionally recharge. He may be the youngest brother but he was still an older brother to Lilith after all, he can at least understand your burning desire to protect those you love and would be by your side to help you do so.

Honerable Mention : Barbatos 

After talking over your ask for a while, Calla 💚and I agreed that the best butler in all of the Devildom would be a good match for you before deciding Belphie would be your main match so we made Barb your second choice/HM. Tea lovers? Check! We all know this man makes the best tea in all three realms. Not only that, he would also be calm and composed and help to keep you calm in return. He has his own elusive personality after all and it doesn't mean he's cold or heartless. Find yourself wandering off to the castle for some downtime from the chaos and just chill with Barb with some nice tea and a good, coherent conversation. 

Hope you approve of the match dear!! Have a lovely day! MUAH! <£

#answered ask : Mod Angel💜 #a wild anon appeared! #Nonnie ⭐ #( MATCHUPS . ) #obey me #obey me! #obey me matchups #obey me! matchups #obey me! belphegor #obey me! self insert #obey me x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me belphie

[serpentestheghost]

Anemone/Sol/Tangent beach day

Welp here it is, my first entry for I Was A Teenage Exocolonist fanweek and my first piece of fanart of any variety~ I hope y'all enjoy it!!

Btw sorry for the terrible formatting this is a lot of firsts for us.

Enjoy!

The gentle crashing of waves laps softly in the distance, the crunching of soft blue grass underfoot as we walk towards a large lake in the Prosiac Plains.

"We're almost there!" I shout excitedly as Sym leads us towards a lakeside beach.

"I can't believe you talked me into this" begroans Tang "Running around on grains of sand and jumping in a giant pool of water with who knows what inside of it isn't my idea of 'fun'. Let's just hope there are some interesting specimens to collect."

Anemone throws an arm around Tang's shoulder "Come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn it'll be funnnnn! We're already here so there's no point in complaining. Besides it's nice to see you outside of the lab for once, you spend so much time cooped up in there you gotta come out more often!"

She sighs, knowing she had already been defeated before they set foot here. "I suppose I'll try to enjoy myself here."

As we walk a little further through the plains the sound of the waves draw closer until we eventually arrive at a sparkling blue lake, the two suns shining bright above and reflecting off the water. Anemone rushes ahead and almost jumps in the water before remembering she's still wearing her clothes. I start jogging to catch up with her and set a bag down on the beach. I pull a red bikini out of the bag and hand it to Anemone. It has green scales adorning the outside with golden lining - Marz's idea. I also pull mine and Tang's out. Tang insisted on having a wetsuit if she was going to have a swimsuit, Marz still managed to make it as glamourous as possible though, regal blue and lab-coat white with saphire gemstones adorning the collar, she never misses an oppertunity to glamorize the colony. I put on the frilly green and blue two piece swimsuit made for me. As we get changed Sym respectfully looks away from us.

Once we're dressed Sym addresses us "Well, here we are. This is the closest thing on this planet to the beaches I saw in your holovids. I do hope you will enjoy yourselves, this lake doesn't have anything that will hurt any of you." He adds with a wink "Probably." Before disappearing into nearby foliage.

Tang quickly finds a shaded spot under a mushtree and immediately starts scrolling on their Holopalm, and Anemone jumps straight into the water yelling "WOOHOOOO" Canonballing with an impressive splash for not having any ledge to jump from.

I walk over to Tang "You should join us in the water, it'll be a ton of fun!"

"You two got me to come here, I'll remain in the comfort of this shade thank you." She responds. After a second of thought she adds "Perhaps later. Maybe." I chuckle and smile at her "Alright, well I'm going to jump in now!"

I run over to the water Anemone is already splashing around and jump in.

"Woo! Nice splash!" Anemone shouts as she flings some water at me playfully. I splash some back at her and a water fight of epic proportions commences. She flings a wide wave of water at me and I duck underwater to avoid it, splashing back as I arise. As we play, I occasionally catch Tang watching us then quickly looking back at her holopalm when she sees me looking. I swim up to Anemone and whisper in her ear "Wanna get her in here?" she giggles and nods and we start towards the shore.

When we get to her Tang looks up at us "Can I help you two?" Anemone and I share a mischevious look before picking Tang up and walking towards the lake with her. "Woah woah what are you doing!" She says squirming a little "HEY WAIT-" as we toss her into the lake. She splashes around for a second before standing up in the water. "You didn't have to throw me in the water! I'm all WET now" She says, splashing some water at us as we dip into the lake with her. "That was kind of the point." I reply to her, still giggling from tossing her in. "It looked like you wanted to join us!" "I mean… I did…" she replies softly, her ears turning slightly red from embarassment.

Anemone takes advantage of us talking to splash us both with a big wave of water. Tang shudders slightly, still not used to getting wet like this but then slides her hand across the top of the water sending a big wave back at Anemone, utlizing physics to get as big of a wave as she can with her limited strength. "Woah that was a big one Tang!" Shouts Anemone "I didn't think you had that in you! Ya stronger than I thought" "It wasn't strength, I just make sure to throw a thin layer of water at you to make it easier to generate a larger wave, a hopeye could figure it out." she replies

We spend the rest of the day splashing each other with water and laughing. When the sun starts to set we get out of the water and set up a campfire with mushlogs.

"It was unexpectedly nice to play out here with you two. Thank you for convincing me to come out here." Tang says as she roasts a soy 'marshmellow' over the fire. "I told you that you needed to spend more time out of the lab! It's fun to play outside especially with you." Anemone says with a soft smile, scooting closer to Tang

The three of us watch the suns set as the wormhole pulses gently above, thinking about what the future will hold in store for us.

(If you got this far, thank you for reading my first ever fic you are an amazing person <3)

#iwatexfanweek2023 #i was a teenage exocolonist #anemone #Sol #Tangent #I Guess Sym is here too #fanfic #Beach Day #I was going to do a sketch of the swimsuits but it turns out being unable to draw anything other than stickfigures makes that hard

[mrrightandmrbubble]

I hope you’re doing well XO

Hi, hello, I still exist though my blog upkeep would say otherwise. It's been a minute. That's really sweet that you 1) thought of me and 2) wanted to check in. I start to type up something about last year but keep abandoning it because how do you casually introduce that to people's timelines?

So, yeah, ripping off the Band-Aid (putting behind a read-more in case of triggers):

Someone tried to kill me. Well, not just someone, a now-former housemate who I thought was a friend. I still don't understand what lead to it and I don't know if I ever will, because they swing between "nothing happened" and "but if something did, it's her fault" (the O.J. defense). They were removed kicking and screaming from the house by police, and a provisional APVO was served that night with the provision that they must not come within 50 metres of any place where I live or work. It's already had a few court mentions, which I didn't have to attend, but an actual hearing has been adjourned to my birthday this year (happy fucking birthday to me) upon which I expect i'll be called to give my evidence. Charges include: Armed with intent to commit serious indictable offense, destroy/damage property, intimidation, common assault, and intentional choking. They're pleading not guilty on the grounds of mental health, but pull the other one. They had awareness and intent, and the ability to understand the events and make different choices in real-time - such as putting down the knife and saying to the other housemate who was trying to keep me safe, "The only reason i'm not killing her is because you're here".

They tracked down CC (after i'd shared that shit heap of a situation with them) to try and dig for dirt to use against me. They sent the other housemate messages and accusations through her via text for a few months, until the other housemate moved out and blocked them on everything. Some continued willful actions.

Once the property recovery order was finally sorted, they sent a family member and their partner to collect their belongings, and it became obvious rather quickly that they have not been honest with anyone about what they did. The fact that they refused my initial proposal of having a mutual friend do the collection supports that. Not that them acknowledging it would provide any kind of validation or resolution - they've bent over backwards to avoid taking responsibility for themselves since i've known them. But it's that which worries me re: how the hearings could go. I have to prepare myself for the likelihood that they won't face any natural consequences for their actions. The mentions so far have been more concerned with their wellbeing than mine. I haven't been contacted by anyone in months. If it eventuates that they get to go on their merry way, i'm not sure yet how I would respond.

At least the Department of Justice has been amazing, approving an Immediate Needs Support Package to fund a complete security overhaul for the premises. My GP also referred me to a psychologist while the local Domestic Violence Court Advocacy Service applied to VOCAL (Victims of Crime Assistance League) on my behalf, though nothing's come of that yet. [EDIT: I just called to follow up and they seem to have lost me in the system, which is awesome but they can't all be winners.]

I wasn't seriously injured, thankfully, besides a chunk of my hair being pulled out (and subsequent blood) and cuts and bruises around my body.

As for my mental health, i'm...okay, I guess. That I knew I needed to quickly access support to mitigate development of PTSD probably saved me from being much worse. I had panic attacks and would replay the event like a video over and over for the first few months after it happened. I have occasional moments when I have trouble dealing with it and get real hard on myself, wishing they'd finished me off. But those moments, thankfully, do pass. Maintaining connection with friends and family, as a means of navigating the trauma recovery, hasn't been easy in recent months (will cover it in another post) but in fighting against my old instinct of avoiding asking for help, it serves as a reminder that there are places and people I can still trust and feel safe around. I've basically treated myself like a client and thought, "Ignore the lies your brain is trying to feed you - what would your best self do right now?"

I survived. I'm continuing to survive. That's the big takeaway.

[its-blip-on-the-radar]

I was curious, are you in any fandoms? Or in general like a thing a lot.

oooohkay so. I'm not in any fandoms really, I don't watch online media enough to really say I'm in a fandom

HOWEVER

I am a HUGE science nerd. Especially about biology. I am constantly researching animals and their behavior especially with ocean animals and reptiles. I also really love insects. I'm planning to have a reptile/insect keeping room one day because I love them so much. I have literally told my girlfriend I rather have a blue tegu than a dog. I don't really like furry things all that much if I'm being honest, I relate a lot more to the types of animals people claim are unable to love. Like yeah they probably don't get the burst of oxycotin that humans get about things, but getting a lizard or snake to trust you enough to be held without pitching a fit is amazing!! They're demonized so much in media and I adore them. My main special interest is also sharks so take that for what you will. I relate a little too much to animals that people make out to be "evil".

I also have a big interest in psychology. My brain is ten different levels of fucked so I kinda like doing research into how brains normally function or hell, even how my brain functions. Like the fact that people with schizophrenia are (I think) 80% more likely to experience insomnia than the average person! I just thought I was bad at sleeping but no there's a reason for it! But I'm also a big fan about the science behind human sexuality. I won't get too into the facts of it cuz a lot of it is NSFW, but looking a the science behind getting it on and how it affects the brain and how fetishes and kinks form, ITS SO COOL. I also collect vintage erotica and gay porn because of this gkjdkjlkfldkgl.

I also just generally have a big love for queer history, learning about the aids crisis and the struggles that our community has faced but also just the fact that we've ALWAYS been here... It makes me feel less alone.

And like the last main thing I'm into is spirituality type stuff. I'm actually a certified pagan priest irl, but my disabilities and life circumstances have made me need to take a really big step back from the work I've been doing. But I've always fueled my work in this with the fact I have seen SO MANY people do it the wrong way, that I want to be a guiding force in doing it the right way.

Besides that, I'm really big into the punk anarchist scene, I like the vulture culture community on tumblr here and have a few specimens myself, I build legos and models a lot, I like art (obviously), I'm learning how to do leather, metal, and wood working, and also building costumes or restoring old clothes/shoes. I like music and singing a lot now that my voice has dropped from testosterone, I play Minecraft and the Sims a lot in my free time, I'm not big on video games but I'm trying to get into TF2 again. I'm getting pretty good at the Pokemon Trading Card Game, as well as Magic the Gathering (Magic is much slower than Pokemon TCG if I'm being honest, that game is complicated.)

To be honest most of what I watch on youtube is documentaries, food reviews, and reddit videos, haven't found any youtubers I'm particularly into. Honestly, I spend most of my time scrolling through tumblr and listening to rock music because I'm two weeks away from finally getting to go home after getting stuck in Texas for seven months and I'm kinda stuck in wait mode. Hopefully once I'm back in Chicago, I'll be doing a lot more hobby wise. I might even share some of it here if I get my old camera back.

But yeah, that was a big old ramble, I know it's weird for me to be on the fandom website and not be in any fandoms but it honestly takes a LOT for me to get into series of any kind. 100% of the series or fandoms I'm "into" it just cuz I have an alter from their source. Either way I hope this accurately answered your question! I appreciate being sent stuff a lot!

#blip is on your radar #blip answers

[wickedsniffles]

When We're Under the Weather

I meant to post this on here at the same time as I did on my main, but life got in the way. 😅 Summary: You're certain no good can come from leaving the warmth of bed to chase a criminal in the rain.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Trans male Reader, he/him pronouns (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Teen & Up

Tags: established relationship, fluff, pet names, comfort no hurt, illnesses, sickfic, teasing/banter, yearning

Word Count: 3.4K

You'd told him no good would come from taking a case in the middle of this storm. Nonetheless, he goes, as you knew he would. Peeling one eye open, you watch in a drowsy blur as Sherlock untangles from the mess of your shared covers, from the warmth, dressing quickly in the dark. You let your heavy eyelids fall closed as he ghosts around the room, collecting his coat and things. It's almost impossible to dissuade him once he gets going, and at this point, all you can do is tell him to be careful, and for God's sake bring an umbrella.

"Love you," you mumble as his lips touch your forehead. "Stay warm, alright? You'll catch your death in this weather."

"Love you too. And I'll do my best," he says in return, brushing a gentle hand through your hair in farewell. "I'll be back before you know I was away. Go back to sleep."

You don't have the strength to protest. Instead you listen as the bedroom door closes, then the door to the flat, as Sherlock Holmes makes his way down the stairs and out into the night. Off to do what he loves, willing to go at any hour, chasing that thrill. Your peculiar man, whose heart you've somehow captured.

That thought, at least, gives you solace as you drift off. The heavy rain continues to beat away at the rooftop, the lullaby sweet, making it impossible to wait up for him no matter how much you might want to. With a heavy sigh, you relax deep within your cocoon of blankets, wishing him luck on whatever he's decided to do.

—---

It feels like only seconds later when you're startled awake by the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. In response to the unwanted noise, Sherlock growls softly, probably knowing it's woken you. You stretch a little in the early dawn light of the flat, pale orange in the small windowpane, and blink up at him.

He's soaking wet. Dripping-onto-the-hardwood, plastered-into-his-clothes wet. His sodden curls cling to the sides of his face, and you don't have to be fully awake to see him shivering.

(Well, you're awake now.)

"Aw, sweetheart," you say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. "What –? I thought I said –"

You can't bring yourself to scold him. Not when he looks miserable and desperate to get warm, fingers shaking as they try for the buttons of his shirt. At once you're out from underneath the covers, helping him undress, and he manages a tired thank you. The sodden clothes are banished to the hamper, to be dealt with later.

"You're welcome."

When he's naked, all cold skin and expectant eyes, you pull him back to the comfort of the fluffy duvet. Sherlock tugs you as close as possible as once, buried under the covers as much as he can be.

"I'm afraid there was a rather tedious foot chase," he says at last, once his body temperature is closer to yours. "Couldn't be helped."

You try your hardest not to sigh, burying your face against his cold chest instead. You can still feel the slightest tremors running through him, and it frightens you a little. Your palms find his back, rubbing circles, trying to get him warm again.

More than that, though, you’re exasperated. Can’t the man let these things go? For once? You know the answer is no. This is his life’s work, his sole focus. And if you’re being honest, you half expected him to end up coming home like this. And there’s no way on God’s green earth he’d just let the killer run away without at least attempting to catch them.

"Well, you're home now.” You press your mouth to his collarbone, as if to cast a spell to keep him with you, this time. “I don’t want you leaving until you’re warm again.”

Sherlock makes a little content noise under his breath. "Mm…alright."

Together you stay there, quiet and contemplative of the relationship you’ve chosen, until he dozes off. The soft, full sound of his breathing is a comfort, and slowly, you let yourself fall asleep again as well.

For a few days, you think nothing will come of his late night, sodden adventure. You go to work and come home, he's busy with cases. You orbit one another, occasionally pausing to gravitate, exchanging kisses and sweet words. It gets to the point where you’re beginning to think he’ll come out of it all unscathed, despite the near-freezing chill in the air that night.

Until you find him three days later, sniffling in a ball on the sofa. The urge to say I told you so is overridden by how annoyed he looks. Setting down your work things on the kitchen counter, you walk over cautiously, a little amused by his irritated huff. Sherlock settles so that both legs now dangle over the edge of the sofa, squinting at the screen of his phone.

“Hullo,” he mutters to you, texting rapidly. You notice right away that his voice is scratchier, almost raspy. “How was work? Boring? Good? Oh – the woman with the dermatillomania – was she there?”

You work at a small research facility, recording the results of certain skincare products on voluntary test subjects. When one of the patients had gone missing during your trials, following up on your care had inevitably led you to the most bizarre case surrounding their disappearance. And then, inevitably, to Sherlock Holmes.

Your knowledge about the victim seemed to interest him, and God help you, you’ve never been one to walk away from a pretty man. He’d fucking towered over you, but nothing about the height difference made you feel small. Instead he’d regarded you with curiosity, in your scrubs and shoe covers. In the bathroom mirror hours later, you’d realized there were tight rings around your eyes from your safety goggles. Not your best look.

But he hadn’t cared. The conversation went on for long past the fifteen minutes it was meant to, and it melded far past the edges of business. Somehow, you’d moved on to other topics of science, leaning against your tidy little desk/lab counter in the corner, and found London’s notorious detective opening up to you about his own experiences in various fields of research as an undergraduate.

You’d heard all kinds of things about him, of course. That he was unusual and cruel and unconventional, but that he could solve any case placed before him. You’d seen his picture on the telly and plastered over the newspaper here and there, his handsome features looking around you, avoiding the camera, but in person he’s starkly different.

He’s – not shy. That’s not the word you would use. But his eyes seem to dart around your face before settling, his energy restless as his long fingers tap on the tabletop. The first time he smiles at you, something crumples in your chest like a fresh sheet of paper balled up in a fist, something like pain and surprise, and you know you’re doomed.

Good thing that the feelings are mutual. A little less than a year later and you’ve found your way into his flat, under his quiet pretense that of course it would be more convenient if you just lived here. Convenient, yes. And the two of you are happier this way. You would never say that your courtship was conventional – often meeting him when he’d called you to the morgue of Saint Bart’s, in the presence of an apologetic Molly Hooper, to consult on a victim’s skin condition.

But other nights are perfectly normal, sometimes shockingly so. You find that he loves being touched, after you’ve gotten to know one another. Most of the time when you fall asleep, it’s limbs akimbo, with his chin tucked atop your head.

Love was not a word spoken aloud between the two of you for a long time. Still, you felt it. You saw it in the way he looked at you, soft and gentle on a quiet evening in. You heard it in the way he says your name. It was everywhere around you, simply waiting for its time. Now that you’re brave enough to voice it in the air between you, it settles warm in your chest, because it belongs there.

“She wasn’t,” you say now, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. It’s heated, and a little clammy. “And it looks like you’re getting ill from running ‘round in the rain.”

Sherlock doesn’t look up, though you can see him purse his lips. “Mm, no, don’t think so.”

“Liar.” There’s no malice to the word – rather amusement. You crouch by the arm of the sofa, placing your lips to his forehead instead. “Yeah, you’re definitely warmer than you should be. Do you feel alright?”

Now he does meet your glance, phone placed on the coffee table screen up and glowing. From this close, you can easily see the little changes in his complexion; his eyes and nose slightly redder at the edges, darker circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well the night before. Of course, that would be hard to track to him being ill, because does Sherlock ever get a full night’s rest? You’d really start to worry if you witnessed him getting a full eight hours.

“If you think I’m ill, why would you kiss me?”

“Well,” you sigh, pushing your fingers through his runaway curls. He closes his eyes, drowsy, relaxing into the sensation. You’ve often accused him of being a housecat about this sort of attention, and more than once when you’ve run your fingers through his hair and tried to stop, he’s put your hand right back where it was. “Probability is I’ve already been exposed, haven’t I?”

He makes a small noise of agreement, a displeased hmm. It’s followed by another wet sniff, his irritation with the whole situation obvious.

“We didn’t even catch him, love, did I say that?”

“You did,” you reply, fond. “A few times.”

“Bloody pointless.”

With a sigh, Sherlock settles deeper into the sofa, as if he’s struggling to get comfortable there. You withdraw your fingers from his curls, contemplating what you’ll do about work. No one really wants you in if there’s a possibility that you’re going to be spreading something. Thankfully, your boss is good about taking your word for it. Not as if you’d lie – and your attendance is spotless otherwise. If you text her, that should suffice for the next few days until you see how this will all play out.

“You never answered me,” you say after you slide your own phone back into your pocket, the text sent.

“Mm,” he utters, tired. “About what, exactly?”

Poor love, you think in sympathy. It’s strange to see him less like himself. Less aware of the conversation, for one thing. You don’t think he’s ever lost track of what the two of you were talking about in all the time you’ve known him. But also with noticeably less energy – the Sherlock you know needs to be fidgeting at all times even when he’s seated, lest he explode. His leg bouncing violently against the floor. Fingers tapping. Anything to move without moving.

Now, though, he’s just curled up in a loose ball. His cheek pressed against a pillow, arms folded over his chest, clad in just house clothes. An old black t-shirt and pyjama trousers.

“I asked if you feel alright,” you repeat. “Though I think I already know the answer.”

“I’ve felt worse,” Sherlock says, blinking up at you. “Though I suppose I’ve felt better.”

"How about the bed, then? Since you've failed to get comfortable."

You keep your suggestion light, wondering how he'll take it. You don't want to seem like you're trying to force him into anything. Sherlock isn't one to change up the routines he already has in place, and loathes a surprise. (Or at least, an attempt at one.) But since he looks halfway to dozing off, you're not sure he'd mind too much at the moment.

His answer astonishes you, uttered almost shyly as he reaches out to place warm fingertips to your forearm.

"Would you…would you come, as well?"

God. Your heart starts to ache in the strangest way to hear him admit that he wants you there with him. You're not about to say no; it's not as if you have anywhere else to be.

"Of course."

Minutes later, you're curled up together. Sherlock fights to keep his eyes open as you settle under the blankets, sighing deeply once you're tucked against him. After a few moments of peaceful silence in which you're certain he's drifted off, you hear him mumble something you don't quite catch.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Said, 'I don't want you to get ill'," he repeats, clearing his throat.

"You're sweet," you tell him, reaching back from where you're cuddled against his chest to kiss his hand. "And you're worrying too much. I'll be alright."

You're met with another grumpy hmph in answer, as if he isn't sure he believes you. That's the last response you get out of him before he drifts off. Each long, slow breath is a reassurance, even in the healthiest of times, that he's not going anywhere.

Though you're far from tired, you stay right where you are, straining to reach your latest book on the nightstand and thumbing it open. He's a notoriously light sleeper, and you don't want to wake him by leaving right after you promised you'd lie there with him.

One hour passes as you lose yourself in your reading, then another. Honestly, you can't believe he's held still for this long – most nights it feels like he migrates halfway across the bed from where the two of you started, intent on moving around even in his sleep. Not now, though. Instead there's only a deep quiet as you turn the pages, an occasional soft snore.

Eventually you risk extracting yourself from his tangle of limbs to go to the loo, certain that you'll wake him, only to turn around and find him still asleep.

Damn, you think, a disbelieving smile on your face. He really is down and out.

After the trip to the loo, you retire to the kitchen, making yourself a light snack. You text your boss as the kettle works itself to a boil, letting her know that you're going to err on the side of caution for the next few days just to see how things play out. She quickly agrees that that's probably for the best, and you slide your phone back into your pocket, glad that that got taken care of without a hitch.

Also, you're not going to object about a few extra days home with Sherlock. Between your work and his heavier caseload recently, you'd be happy to just have some much-needed downtime. Not that you're glad that he's fallen ill, but sometimes you have to play with the cards life gives you. And if this particular hand involves a lot of lying around and napping together, well, who are you to complain?

—---------

The next morning, you wake to see Sherlock still asleep, almost exactly how you'd left him the evening before. Sleeping on his side mere inches from you with his arms slightly crossed, it strikes you how different he looks this way. Less petulant, maybe. Calmer. With a rush of fondness, you reach out and place your palm to his forehead, and feel him warm to the touch. Perhaps a bit warmer than yesterday.

He shifts a little, stirring at last. Blinking up at you with squinting, drowsy eyes, Sherlock takes a few seconds to realize that something's amiss with this scenario.

"You're not at work," he croaks.

"Astute observation," you reply, teasing, letting your hand run through his tangles of hair. He's somewhat sweaty, either from the extra blanket or from the fever, you aren't sure. All you know for certain is that he'll want to get straight in the shower once he's fully awake.

Sherlock ignores the little jab, propping himself up on an elbow.

"Are you alright?" he prompts, mirroring your own motion and placing his fingers to your cheek.

They're warm, trembling slightly, and the fact that he wants to make sure you're not ill even though he's feeling off pulls at your heartstrings.

You lean into the touch before shaking your head, gently lowering his hand down.

"I'm alright," you say. "I'm here to look after you. How are you feeling?"

"Oh," says Sherlock, as if that should've been his first assumption. He pulls himself up a step further, sitting up in the bed beside you and sniffling thickly. "Erm – like utter shit, honestly."

You tsk, giving him a once-over. He sounds hoarse and more congested than yesterday, and you wouldn't be surprised if this is that cold that had your friend from the neighboring lab down and out a few weeks prior. She'd complained about a week of congestion, sore throat, sneezing, and being so tired she didn't want to do a thing if it involved her leaving her bed.

"Poor love," you say at last, pecking him on the temple. "How about you pop in the shower, eh? I'll see what we've got in the medicine cabinet."

"Nothing good. Already checked."

"When did you check?"

Though he looks worn-out and under the weather, that doesn't stop a familiar grin from flashing across Sherlock's face.

"Last night, when you were dead to the world. Probably could've fired a gun in here with the state of you."

"Me?" You raise your eyebrows, pretending to be offended. Both of you know that you're a notoriously heavy sleeper. "You should've seen yourself. Downright eerie, that was."

Sherlock only rolls his eyes, and the lack of a clever comeback is yet another clue to his well-being.

You enjoy that the two of you can banter back and forth like this without the fear of offending the other. Most articles about Sherlock that make their way into the public eye speak about what a cruel man he is, alongside his cleverness, but that's never been the case in your relationship. Once you formed a friendship and discovered you and he had such similar personality types, there was affection there just as much as ribbing and teasing.

"The shower, then," he says after a moment. "Will you join me?"

You shake your head. "If there's nothing in the medicine cabinet, I'll run down to Boots, pick you up something. Alright?"

Sherlock's face gives nothing away, but you detect a hint of disappointment as he nods, peeling himself out of the nest of covers. The two of you often shower together when you have the time, and there's a fifty-fifty chance it'll devolve into something more than simply getting clean. You wonder if that's what he had in mind, or if he's just craving the comfort of the routine.

"Thanks, love."

He catches your wrist as you move to find your shoes, tracing his fingers lovingly over your considerably cooler skin. You turn to look at him, taking in the face that you’ve memorized and gone silly over and yes, grown to love. His eyes beg for what his mouth won’t say.

Kiss me?

How could you not?

You press your mouth to his, finding Sherlock’s lips dry and warm. His eyes slip closed in an almost drowsy way as he sighs through his nose in pleasure, nudging closer just as you pull away. The tiny sound that escapes his throat is something like a whine, an involuntary sound of dismay.

“Don’t you try and keep me here,” you laugh, but it’s a poor disguise for your own enjoyment.

You’re sure he knows you’d like to keep going, to fall into the kiss and let it blossom into more. If he had the energy to indulge such a thing, you’d melt into the sheets, let this first touch last for hours.

But there’s cold medicine to be purchased, showers to take. You give him a lingering look as you pull away from the kiss, your heart racing. He really shouldn’t be trying to start something like this with the state he’s in. You’re going to stop this now and get dressed. The chill air will help clear your mind. It definitely will.

“Go on,” Sherlock says softly, nodding to the door. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You smile. “I’ll be right back.”

#sickfic #nonkink dni #b/bc s/herlock

[wickedscribbles]

When We're Under the Weather

My last post of the year 😭😭 Not gonna lie, 2022 has been an absolute rollercoaster (with December plunging me straight into the abyss) but my god it's also had so much joy. Such a strange time. I'm so glad I've met the people that I've met this year, and gotten to write the things that I did. I'm so lucky to be getting regular commissions (💓 you ok ok) and even if I have way, way less time and energy to interact with everyone here PLEASE know that if you've ever liked or reblogged or replied to anything I've written, I see it and it brings me immense joy. I wrote the majority of this over a month ago and decided I liked leaving it where it was -- but I might write a continuation where more happens. 😉 Summary: You're certain no good can come from leaving the warmth of bed to chase a criminal in the rain.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Trans male Reader, he/him pronouns (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Teen & Up

Tags: established relationship, fluff, pet names, comfort no hurt, illnesses, sickfic, teasing/banter, yearning

Word Count: 3.4K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

You'd told him no good would come from taking a case in the middle of this storm. Nonetheless, he goes, as you knew he would. Peeling one eye open, you watch in a drowsy blur as Sherlock untangles from the mess of your shared covers, from the warmth, dressing quickly in the dark. You let your heavy eyelids fall closed as he ghosts around the room, collecting his coat and things. It's almost impossible to dissuade him once he gets going, and at this point, all you can do is tell him to be careful, and for God's sake bring an umbrella.

"Love you," you mumble as his lips touch your forehead. "Stay warm, alright? You'll catch your death in this weather."

"Love you too. And I'll do my best," he says in return, brushing a gentle hand through your hair in farewell. "I'll be back before you know I was away. Go back to sleep."

You don't have the strength to protest. Instead you listen as the bedroom door closes, then the door to the flat, as Sherlock Holmes makes his way down the stairs and out into the night. Off to do what he loves, willing to go at any hour, chasing that thrill. Your peculiar man, whose heart you've somehow captured.

That thought, at least, gives you solace as you drift off. The heavy rain continues to beat away at the rooftop, the lullaby sweet, making it impossible to wait up for him no matter how much you might want to. With a heavy sigh, you relax deep within your cocoon of blankets, wishing him luck on whatever he's decided to do.

—---

It feels like only seconds later when you're startled awake by the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. In response to the unwanted noise, Sherlock growls softly, probably knowing it's woken you. You stretch a little in the early dawn light of the flat, pale orange in the small windowpane, and blink up at him.

He's soaking wet. Dripping-onto-the-hardwood, plastered-into-his-clothes wet. His sodden curls cling to the sides of his face, and you don't have to be fully awake to see him shivering.

(Well, you're awake now.)

"Aw, sweetheart," you say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. "What –? I thought I said –"

You can't bring yourself to scold him. Not when he looks miserable and desperate to get warm, fingers shaking as they try for the buttons of his shirt. At once you're out from underneath the covers, helping him undress, and he manages a tired thank you. The sodden clothes are banished to the hamper, to be dealt with later.

"You're welcome."

When he's naked, all cold skin and expectant eyes, you pull him back to the comfort of the fluffy duvet. Sherlock tugs you as close as possible as once, buried under the covers as much as he can be.

"I'm afraid there was a rather tedious foot chase," he says at last, once his body temperature is closer to yours. "Couldn't be helped."

You try your hardest not to sigh, burying your face against his cold chest instead. You can still feel the slightest tremors running through him, and it frightens you a little. Your palms find his back, rubbing circles, trying to get him warm again.

More than that, though, you’re exasperated. Can’t the man let these things go? For once? You know the answer is no. This is his life’s work, his sole focus. And if you’re being honest, you half expected him to end up coming home like this. And there’s no way on God’s green earth he’d just let the killer run away without at least attempting to catch them.

"Well, you're home now.” You press your mouth to his collarbone, as if to cast a spell to keep him with you, this time. “I don’t want you leaving until you’re warm again.”

Sherlock makes a little content noise under his breath. "Mm…alright."

Together you stay there, quiet and contemplative of the relationship you’ve chosen, until he dozes off. The soft, full sound of his breathing is a comfort, and slowly, you let yourself fall asleep again as well.

For a few days, you think nothing will come of his late night, sodden adventure. You go to work and come home, he's busy with cases. You orbit one another, occasionally pausing to gravitate, exchanging kisses and sweet words. It gets to the point where you’re beginning to think he’ll come out of it all unscathed, despite the near-freezing chill in the air that night.

Until you find him three days later, sniffling in a ball on the sofa. The urge to say I told you so is overridden by how annoyed he looks. Setting down your work things on the kitchen counter, you walk over cautiously, a little amused by his irritated huff. Sherlock settles so that both legs now dangle over the edge of the sofa, squinting at the screen of his phone.

“Hullo,” he mutters to you, texting rapidly. You notice right away that his voice is scratchier, almost raspy. “How was work? Boring? Good? Oh – the woman with the dermatillomania – was she there?”

You work at a small research facility, recording the results of certain skincare products on voluntary test subjects. When one of the patients had gone missing during your trials, following up on your care had inevitably led you to the most bizarre case surrounding their disappearance. And then, inevitably, to Sherlock Holmes.

Your knowledge about the victim seemed to interest him, and God help you, you’ve never been one to walk away from a pretty man. He’d fucking towered over you, but nothing about the height difference made you feel small. Instead he’d regarded you with curiosity, in your scrubs and shoe covers. In the bathroom mirror hours later, you’d realized there were tight rings around your eyes from your safety goggles. Not your best look.

But he hadn’t cared. The conversation went on for long past the fifteen minutes it was meant to, and it melded far past the edges of business. Somehow, you’d moved on to other topics of science, leaning against your tidy little desk/lab counter in the corner, and found London’s notorious detective opening up to you about his own experiences in various fields of research as an undergraduate.

You’d heard all kinds of things about him, of course. That he was unusual and cruel and unconventional, but that he could solve any case placed before him. You’d seen his picture on the telly and plastered over the newspaper here and there, his handsome features looking around you, avoiding the camera, but in person he’s starkly different.

He’s – not shy. That’s not the word you would use. But his eyes seem to dart around your face before settling, his energy restless as his long fingers tap on the tabletop. The first time he smiles at you, something crumples in your chest like a fresh sheet of paper balled up in a fist, something like pain and surprise, and you know you’re doomed.

Good thing that the feelings are mutual. A little less than a year later and you’ve found your way into his flat, under his quiet pretense that of course it would be more convenient if you just lived here. Convenient, yes. And the two of you are happier this way. You would never say that your courtship was conventional – often meeting him when he’d called you to the morgue of Saint Bart’s, in the presence of an apologetic Molly Hooper, to consult on a victim’s skin condition.

But other nights are perfectly normal, sometimes shockingly so. You find that he loves being touched, after you’ve gotten to know one another. Most of the time when you fall asleep, it’s limbs akimbo, with his chin tucked atop your head.

Love was not a word spoken aloud between the two of you for a long time. Still, you felt it. You saw it in the way he looked at you, soft and gentle on a quiet evening in. You heard it in the way he says your name. It was everywhere around you, simply waiting for its time. Now that you’re brave enough to voice it in the air between you, it settles warm in your chest, because it belongs there.

“She wasn’t,” you say now, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. It’s heated, and a little clammy. “And it looks like you’re getting ill from running ‘round in the rain.”

Sherlock doesn’t look up, though you can see him purse his lips. “Mm, no, don’t think so.”

“Liar.” There’s no malice to the word – rather amusement. You crouch by the arm of the sofa, placing your lips to his forehead instead. “Yeah, you’re definitely warmer than you should be. Do you feel alright?”

Now he does meet your glance, phone placed on the coffee table screen up and glowing. From this close, you can easily see the little changes in his complexion; his eyes and nose slightly redder at the edges, darker circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well the night before. Of course, that would be hard to track to him being ill, because does Sherlock ever get a full night’s rest? You’d really start to worry if you witnessed him getting a full eight hours.

“If you think I’m ill, why would you kiss me?”

“Well,” you sigh, pushing your fingers through his runaway curls. He closes his eyes, drowsy, relaxing into the sensation. You’ve often accused him of being a housecat about this sort of attention, and more than once when you’ve run your fingers through his hair and tried to stop, he’s put your hand right back where it was. “Probability is I’ve already been exposed, haven’t I?”

He makes a small noise of agreement, a displeased hmm. It’s followed by another wet sniff, his irritation with the whole situation obvious.

“We didn’t even catch him, love, did I say that?”

“You did,” you reply, fond. “A few times.”

“Bloody pointless.”

With a sigh, Sherlock settles deeper into the sofa, as if he’s struggling to get comfortable there. You withdraw your fingers from his curls, contemplating what you’ll do about work. No one really wants you in if there’s a possibility that you’re going to be spreading something. Thankfully, your boss is good about taking your word for it. Not as if you’d lie – and your attendance is spotless otherwise. If you text her, that should suffice for the next few days until you see how this will all play out.

“You never answered me,” you say after you slide your own phone back into your pocket, the text sent.

“Mm,” he utters, tired. “About what, exactly?”

Poor love, you think in sympathy. It’s strange to see him less like himself. Less aware of the conversation, for one thing. You don’t think he’s ever lost track of what the two of you were talking about in all the time you’ve known him. But also with noticeably less energy – the Sherlock you know needs to be fidgeting at all times even when he’s seated, lest he explode. His leg bouncing violently against the floor. Fingers tapping. Anything to move without moving.

Now, though, he’s just curled up in a loose ball. His cheek pressed against a pillow, arms folded over his chest, clad in just house clothes. An old black t-shirt and pyjama trousers.

“I asked if you feel alright,” you repeat. “Though I think I already know the answer.”

“I’ve felt worse,” Sherlock says, blinking up at you. “Though I suppose I’ve felt better.”

"How about the bed, then? Since you've failed to get comfortable."

You keep your suggestion light, wondering how he'll take it. You don't want to seem like you're trying to force him into anything. Sherlock isn't one to change up the routines he already has in place, and loathes a surprise. (Or at least, an attempt at one.) But since he looks halfway to dozing off, you're not sure he'd mind too much at the moment.

His answer astonishes you, uttered almost shyly as he reaches out to place warm fingertips to your forearm.

"Would you…would you come, as well?"

God. Your heart starts to ache in the strangest way to hear him admit that he wants you there with him. You're not about to say no; it's not as if you have anywhere else to be.

"Of course."

Minutes later, you're curled up together. Sherlock fights to keep his eyes open as you settle under the blankets, sighing deeply once you're tucked against him. After a few moments of peaceful silence in which you're certain he's drifted off, you hear him mumble something you don't quite catch.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Said, 'I don't want you to get ill'," he repeats, clearing his throat.

"You're sweet," you tell him, reaching back from where you're cuddled against his chest to kiss his hand. "And you're worrying too much. I'll be alright."

You're met with another grumpy hmph in answer, as if he isn't sure he believes you. That's the last response you get out of him before he drifts off. Each long, slow breath is a reassurance, even in the healthiest of times, that he's not going anywhere.

Though you're far from tired, you stay right where you are, straining to reach your latest book on the nightstand and thumbing it open. He's a notoriously light sleeper, and you don't want to wake him by leaving right after you promised you'd lie there with him.

One hour passes as you lose yourself in your reading, then another. Honestly, you can't believe he's held still for this long – most nights it feels like he migrates halfway across the bed from where the two of you started, intent on moving around even in his sleep. Not now, though. Instead there's only a deep quiet as you turn the pages, an occasional soft snore.

Eventually you risk extracting yourself from his tangle of limbs to go to the loo, certain that you'll wake him, only to turn around and find him still asleep.

Damn, you think, a disbelieving smile on your face. He really is down and out.

After the trip to the loo, you retire to the kitchen, making yourself a light snack. You text your boss as the kettle works itself to a boil, letting her know that you're going to err on the side of caution for the next few days just to see how things play out. She quickly agrees that that's probably for the best, and you slide your phone back into your pocket, glad that that got taken care of without a hitch.

Also, you're not going to object about a few extra days home with Sherlock. Between your work and his heavier caseload recently, you'd be happy to just have some much-needed downtime. Not that you're glad that he's fallen ill, but sometimes you have to play with the cards life gives you. And if this particular hand involves a lot of lying around and napping together, well, who are you to complain?

—---------

The next morning, you wake to see Sherlock still asleep, almost exactly how you'd left him the evening before. Sleeping on his side mere inches from you with his arms slightly crossed, it strikes you how different he looks this way. Less petulant, maybe. Calmer. With a rush of fondness, you reach out and place your palm to his forehead, and feel him warm to the touch. Perhaps a bit warmer than yesterday.

He shifts a little, stirring at last. Blinking up at you with squinting, drowsy eyes, Sherlock takes a few seconds to realize that something's amiss with this scenario.

"You're not at work," he croaks.

"Astute observation," you reply, teasing, letting your hand run through his tangles of hair. He's somewhat sweaty, either from the extra blanket or from the fever, you aren't sure. All you know for certain is that he'll want to get straight in the shower once he's fully awake.

Sherlock ignores the little jab, propping himself up on an elbow.

"Are you alright?" he prompts, mirroring your own motion and placing his fingers to your cheek.

They're warm, trembling slightly, and the fact that he wants to make sure you're not ill even though he's feeling off pulls at your heartstrings.

You lean into the touch before shaking your head, gently lowering his hand down.

"I'm alright," you say. "I'm here to look after you. How are you feeling?"

"Oh," says Sherlock, as if that should've been his first assumption. He pulls himself up a step further, sitting up in the bed beside you and sniffling thickly. "Erm – like utter shit, honestly."

You tsk, giving him a once-over. He sounds hoarse and more congested than yesterday, and you wouldn't be surprised if this is that cold that had your friend from the neighboring lab down and out a few weeks prior. She'd complained about a week of congestion, sore throat, sneezing, and being so tired she didn't want to do a thing if it involved her leaving her bed.

"Poor love," you say at last, pecking him on the temple. "How about you pop in the shower, eh? I'll see what we've got in the medicine cabinet."

"Nothing good. Already checked."

"When did you check?"

Though he looks worn-out and under the weather, that doesn't stop a familiar grin from flashing across Sherlock's face.

"Last night, when you were dead to the world. Probably could've fired a gun in here with the state of you."

"Me?" You raise your eyebrows, pretending to be offended. Both of you know that you're a notoriously heavy sleeper. "You should've seen yourself. Downright eerie, that was."

Sherlock only rolls his eyes, and the lack of a clever comeback is yet another clue to his well-being.

You enjoy that the two of you can banter back and forth like this without the fear of offending the other. Most articles about Sherlock that make their way into the public eye speak about what a cruel man he is, alongside his cleverness, but that's never been the case in your relationship. Once you formed a friendship and discovered you and he had such similar personality types, there was affection there just as much as ribbing and teasing.

"The shower, then," he says after a moment. "Will you join me?"

You shake your head. "If there's nothing in the medicine cabinet, I'll run down to Boots, pick you up something. Alright?"

Sherlock's face gives nothing away, but you detect a hint of disappointment as he nods, peeling himself out of the nest of covers. The two of you often shower together when you have the time, and there's a fifty-fifty chance it'll devolve into something more than simply getting clean. You wonder if that's what he had in mind, or if he's just craving the comfort of the routine.

"Thanks, love."

He catches your wrist as you move to find your shoes, tracing his fingers lovingly over your considerably cooler skin. You turn to look at him, taking in the face that you’ve memorized and gone silly over and yes, grown to love. His eyes beg for what his mouth won’t say.

Kiss me?

How could you not?

You press your mouth to his, finding Sherlock’s lips dry and warm. His eyes slip closed in an almost drowsy way as he sighs through his nose in pleasure, nudging closer just as you pull away. The tiny sound that escapes his throat is something like a whine, an involuntary sound of dismay.

“Don’t you try and keep me here,” you laugh, but it’s a poor disguise for your own enjoyment.

You’re sure he knows you’d like to keep going, to fall into the kiss and let it blossom into more. If he had the energy to indulge such a thing, you’d melt into the sheets, let this first touch last for hours.

But there’s cold medicine to be purchased, showers to take. You give him a lingering look as you pull away from the kiss, your heart racing. He really shouldn’t be trying to start something like this with the state he’s in. You’re going to stop this now and get dressed. The chill air will help clear your mind. It definitely will.

“Go on,” Sherlock says softly, nodding to the door. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You smile. “I’ll be right back.”

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #fluff #sickfic #wickedscribbles #ao3 is down and it's frustratinggggg

[celestiabyss]

[MY THOUGHTS ON TWITTER BEING DOWN + MY CURRENT PLANS FOR OTHER PLATFORMS 🐦]

Hi everyone! As many of you might have experienced, Twitter has not been loading tweets for many hours for a lot of users (me included) due to the so-called "rate-limited" mechanic that doesn't make any sense. At the time of this writing, I could no longer see tweets majority of the time from my main account, so the situation at hand makes me even more pessimistic on the future of Twitter.

A good chunk of you probably knows by now that I've been active in Twitter as celestiabyss for over two years now. It is the platform where I started sharing my theories and thoughts about Genshin lore, and it is where I got to see many fellow lore enthusiasts that inspire me to this day.

Twitter isn't perfect, but ever since a certain someone bought the platform, things started to get really messy. Unnecessary features got added in while necessary features were removed. Twitter Moments, for example, was the only feature that was close enough to being an organized archive. You might have seen me use this before to compile my lore tweets and theories. Around November last year, the Twitter Moments feature could no longer be updated with new tweets, and this was the reason why I barely wrote long lore threads ever since then.

A lot of problems continued to emerge and threaten the stability of the platform 'til this day. Despite the social chaos of Twitter, it couldn't be denied that Twitter has -- or used to have -- certain functionalities and accessibilities that helped a lot of people connect to online communities such as fandoms much easier whether as lurkers or active users. Twitter is in no way "better" than Tumblr, Reddit, Discord, and the like, but it does offer something that other platforms do not have. This is why it's such a shame that the platform has been dying a slow death ever since Spiral Abyss man had the audacity to buy it and ruin it.

I will not deny that branching out to as many other platforms and other social media as possible is one of the strategies that many content creators use to reach many people. While it is inevitable for me to adopt this strategy too, it still pains me to see my primary platform in shambles and potentially losing connection to the communities I've come to love. The incompetence of the Spiral Abyss man is killing many communities that rely on this platform.

1. Twitch (https://www.twitch.tv/celestiabyss)

There is such a high learning curve for me when learning extra platforms such as Tumblr and Discord, which is why these two have been collecting dust for so long. I do have Twitch and Youtube as my other more active platforms though, and as someone who just started streaming months ago, it will be a challenge for me to rely mostly on these two alone to reach you. I will see what I can do to better inform everyone of when I'm streaming. But for now, pls keep an eye out on my other platforms. All of them use the "celestiabyss" username:

- I will still be streaming there starting this week once I finish my uni stuff and recover from my sickness this week. Target return date will be on JULY 5 AT 10 PM GMT+8. Please check the Profile tab and Schedule tab of my page for sched announcements.

2. Youtube (youtube.com/@celestiabyss) - All Twitch VODs and future content will still be uploaded here. Twitch stream schedules and other announcements will also be announced through my Youtube channel's Community posts. I currently do not have plans to stream on Youtube, but if I ever feel like learning how to do so, I will let you know.

3. Tumblr (https://celestiabyss.tumblr.com) - This is the backup socmed account I made ever since Twitter started crumbling around November 2022. It's mostly on hiatus right now, so I'll still see what I can do to resume long-form lore posting here.

Anyways that would be it for now. I need to get back to finishing my papers and recovering. All this platform planning will come again later. I'll see you when I see you and stay tuned on my Twitch streams 🌠

4. Discord (celestiabyss) - I am very inactive in this fandom-focused Discord account since I use my personal one more. But yes, I'm in the following lore servers: (1) Khaenri'ah Lore Project and (2) Coffee and Culture. I'm also in GenshinSupportClub's server. I haven't checked them in a long time though and I have yet to learn how to fully navigate these servers. To all my Twitter mutuals who I have gotten to interact with through Genshin and HSR lore tweets: pls let me know if you have a server too (LET ME INNNN 😆).

#celestiabyss #celestiabyss updates #twitter is down

[sageteapost]

| "Cmon (Y/N), let's take a stroll through Liyue together." |

[Hu Tao x GN! Reader]

TW/CW + Tags: None. [No established relationship, with Hu Tao having a crush on the reader. GN! Reader]

Summary: Taking a calm evening stroll with Hu Tao through Liyue Harbor. Along the way, she reveals something she's been wanting to tell you..

[(A/N): Alright! This wasn't a request, but I really wanted to write something for my favorite ghost lady. Hope yall will enjoy it!]

It was a regular evening at Liyue Harbor. Throughout the day, the port would be bustling and filled with all different kinds of people. Children causing mischief at the port, traders and vendors calling out their offers, and Millelith guards standing at their stations, keeping an eye out to maintain order. However, besides the Millelith of course, everyone else had gone home for the day. Bright orange lanterns lit up the streets and it was much more quiet and serene than it was a few hours earlier.

You had just finished commissions for the day and were passing by the Adventurers' Guild to collect your rewards from Katheryne. Once you do and Katheryne lets you go for the day, you find yourself strolling down Chihu Rock.

Most windows were dark. Some weren't and illuminated your path. You don't really go on walks through the city since you usually feel burnt out or you're super busy with the Guild. So why now of all times? ...Probably the quiet surroundings and pretty lanterns.

Crossing the bridge from Chihu Rock to Feiyun Slope, you feel a cool whoosh gently brush your back. Whirling your body around, you see nothing. Huh. Probably just the breeze, you think to yourself. As soon as you thought everything was fine, a certain familiar figure suddenly jumps in front of you and you halt immediately in your tracks. Hu Tao.

"Boo!! I certainly did not except to find you here at this time of night (Y/N)!"

"Geez Hu Tao!! Quit scaring me like that, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"O-ya? Aw, don't be so boring," Hu Tao says with a smug look on her face. "I admit, I found your horrified face to be very amusing! Definitely the highlight of my day."

The two of you share a small laugh, the air soon becoming quiet again. "So, what brings you here out here at this time of night?" Hu Tao asks and slightly tilts her head. You reply, "Well, I had just finished my commissions with the Adventurers' Guild. So I figured I'd take an evening walk to unwind."

You look down slightly at the floor and ask, "Well what about you Hu Tao? Though I should have known that you'd be taking your evening walk." Hu Tao claps her hands together with a small smile and says, "Bingo! Right as always, (Y/N)." Then she folds her arms and says, "But this time, it feels a lot more boring than usual." Hu Tao makes a boop noise as she touches your nose. "Luckily it's not so dull anymore now that I've managed to spot you!"

You let out a sheepish giggle along with a light blush. "Well I guess that's good for you then." You turn your head to look out to the sky, seeing it much darker than it already was before. "Sheesh, it's getting a bit late for me Hu Tao. I should probably—"

"Oh but (Y/N)! I just got to finally catch up to you," Hu Tao pouts.

"But it's far too late! I should be going off to sleep at this hour."

"Aw, please? The moon tonight is too pretty to miss, and I'd like for you to see it with me."

You glance at Hu Tao for a moment. The look in her eyes is practically begging for you to join her. That's when you feel the warmth of another hand hold onto yours. "Cmon (Y/N), let's take a stroll through Liyue together."

Hu Tao's hand is soft and warm, like a cozy blanket next to a warm fire. Yet, it's sort-of moist. Is she nervous? Why though?

You sigh softly, before replying, "..Alright. I'll join you." Hu Tao's eyes light up like a xiao lantern. "Perfect! Let's get a move on dear friend, ehehe!"

As you two walk and talk, Hu Tao continues to tightly hold your hand the whole way. You did tell her that she didn'tq need to hold your hand, but Hu Tao insists regardless. I mean, who are you to deny her? It's just her being a sweet friend, right?

[Time skip..]

It's been about...one hour at most? The two of you were walking around the south wharf for a bit with Hu Tao pranking you a few times. But after a while, Hu Tao had other plans and ended up dragging you to sit with her towards the end of the docks.

The night was cool, the reflection of the moon was painted onto the sea, and the smell of the salty and moist sea water filled the air.

"It's beautiful, isn't it (Y/N)?" Hu Tao says, still haven't let go of your hand.

"Yeah, it really is. I never take the time to appreciate the beauty of the moon. Though spending time with you makes this experience even better."

Hu Tao smiles softly under her breath, both of you falling silent. After a good while, Hu Tao speaks up. "So (Y/N), there's actually a bit of a reason why I dragged you with me."

You turn your attention away from the moon to look at her. "Oh? What's the reason then?" You feel Hu Tao's fingers fiddling with yours, before she responds, "I have...felt something unique about you. Something I've never really felt with anyone else but you."

Your face quickly changes to one of surprise. Wait, is she—

"I admit! I-I like you, (Y/N)! More than just a friend," Hu Tao finally blurts out, holding your hand tighter. "And, I was hoping that, you know...would like to be my partner?"

At first, you're stunned. And quite flattered. You never would have thought that Hu Tao, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor Director, would even feel that interested in you to confess. But amiss all of the shock you're feeling, you smile.

"I'd love to, Hu Tao. I'd love to go out with you."

Oh, you wish you could replay this exact moment. Because the second you see her face light up and the tears pricking at her eyes, you feel like you're on cloud nine for making her feel like the luckiest girl in all of Teyvat.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #hu tao x reader #hu tao x you #hu tao x y/n #hu tao x gender neutral reader #hu tao #headcanons #genshin handcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact hu tao #hu tao genshin impact #hu tao fluff #hu tao imagines #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ not requested

[rye-kin]

Ok so. Musical is a bit of a mess to put it lightly. I am aware of that in the same way that I am aware that Russel Crowe as Javert is a bit of a mess. However I am a known enjoyer of things that are a bit of a mess.

Anyways. Part of where like recordings of the soundtrack fall flat is that the Broadway version that is our most accessible recording and most often preformed version makes Jekyll just. The wettest rat of a man, as in even when he's being a bitch, he's being played up as like. A dishrag. It's worst in Confrontation (the Complete Works version with Anthony Warlow is the one that trended on TikTok for a reason and that is because Jekyll doesn't sound like a sad cat reaction image) but even when he's going "Fuck these guys I'll just do it myself," he sounds like he'd be stopped by a stiff breeze. My humble opinion is that. This man is not in fact *that* level of pathetic. Like he's pathetic, just not. That pathetic. He's a man who lives on the bleeding edge of science and you don't do that if you are that level of made of tissue paper. The Complete Works is tonally a bit more unhinged but totals out to like two hours WITHOUT any of the spoken segments and a couple of the songs that are like! Good from the broadway version just don't hit quite right there! Honestly you could make a playlist slamming together songs from both versions and come away with something much more. Maybe not accurate per say, but probably more entertaining.

That is all that will be remotely coherent. This is the point where I explain a musical that I am sorry in advance if you've seen because Long Tangent. Closing out my proper J&H Musical Thoughts here, you are welcome to just Ignore the rest of this thing.

I am in fact "guy who watches musicals once, goes 'huh, neat,' and then starts grabbing songs for their home-grown blorbos" so I happen to have a collection of musical soundtracks (except Hamilton. I've self imposed a Hamilton ban because that's all there would be otherwise) to pull from just on hand ready to go. And I came to. Well, easily one of the conclusions ever because I was weighing between songs from J&H and Finding Neverland for a playlist. That is that, for Some reason, the latter half of Finding Neverland is like. The tonal opposite of J&H but starts coming close to the duality of man themes in similar ways.

This is mostly weird because Finding Neverland is a musical that is, in theory, based off of REAL MAN playwright James Barrie. The Peter Pan guy. The show is like a Marginally more fantastical Hamilton type of approach where you can tell that this is Not How These Things Happened In Real Life but in a way where it's like "Let's use our imagination together to get through the worst of life, as a Group!!" until RIGHT before you go to intermission where you get "Circus of your Mind" and "Live by the Hook". Circus of your Mind is like okay sure just the rising action higher tensions version of things happening in this dude's imagination, things are bad now, sure. Why not. "Live by the Hook" is directly after that and is where fictional character Captain Hook appears to introduce himself to James Barrie as "the part of you you don't like to talk about at tea parties" and tell him he needs to write a properly scary villain. Hook cameos in the background of like Multiple scenes in the rest of the play as a shadow (limited by Hook sharing an actor with another character for "Oh look the more intense part of him he doesn't like is the same as the guy putting financial pressure on him ohhh we're Cool and Smart" reasons) to be like? Motivating I guess? This is mostly weird as all hell because, again, this is ostensibly about a real guy?? Baffling choice here, up there with the romance plot existing at all (dude was ???? dude was something but not. The cheater who ditched his wife for a dying woman THAT's pretty sure).

The rest of the plays aren't all that similar but if you want same energy opposite directions for like. "Façade Reprise 1," and "Confrontation" then "All of London is Here," for the former and "Live by the Hook," and "Stronger" for the latter are sure out there I guess? If you need songs for a playlist where those are just too negative ig.

If you haven't listened to Finding Neverland it's pretty good if you approach it as not biographical, although I saw it live off Broadway first and I cannot, for the life of me, find the song that took the place of All of London in that version which has been driving me BATTY for like four years now.

That's the rant, I am sorry for inflicting this on you lol, ur design for Hyde is the fun sorta menacing which? Vibes!

Wow… Gawdamn

Though I really see we’re your coming from, this is so real and stands on its own…

#jekyll and hyde #musicals #submissions to ronnie

[animehouse-moe]

Manga Collection Update March 2023

Documenting the development and growth of my collection is something I really enjoy. The majority of pictures in my camera roll are haul or collection pictures from over the recent years, and I really enjoy it for whatever reason. So I thought, hey, why not share that process and journey with other people? It doesn't take long, and others might find it cool, so here I am. At the most it'll be a monthly thing, but it's more likely to be longer and just be influenced by large changes to the collection. Anyways, let's get started.

Re-organizing

I'm posting this now because I just went through a big re-organization, that afforded me 2 whole shelves with my current bookshelves. That's room for probably about 45 volumes of manga, so just shy of "new" space for 100 volumes. Of course, I've still got other space so in total I have about 4 or so free shelves which is real nice.

What brought it about though? Mostly, being full up on space for art books. I had taken up a whole half-height shelf with art books and I felt like I was being inefficient with their storage, so at midnight on a weeknight I decided I would start re-organizing my collection. The first decision was to move all of my art books to my half-width (but full height) white bookshelf.

And it ended up being a really good decision. I managed to fit all my art books onto the shelf (with some on display) plus all my non-English manga. Of course, it's basically at absolute capacity, so I'll be looking into getting another narrow bookshelf to pair it with down the road.

Next, was changing out the half-height black bookshelf. Before, it only had 3 shelves on it total (due to the height of art books) so it was pretty cramped for sure. Switching to two shelves for Viz Sig sized manga, and 2 for regular/Seven Seas sized manga I've gained a lot of extra space.

Of course, I've not really properly organized it which needs to happen haha. My favorite bit on this shelf (though it's impossible to really see because of lighting) is the Neon Genesis Evangelion Side Story collection I have. It's not Ikari Project singles yeah, but I've also got all but one side story in my collection now, and I'm super excited about it. Stuff like Angelic Days is from 15 years ago now which is crazy to think about. Moving forward with the shelf though I want to try and clear out the hardcovers on the bottom shelf to make room for more LNs, but we'll see what I can manage first.

The last shelf that lives in my room is this full size black bookshelf (which is Ikea, all of them are). It's not really changed in recent times, but is pretty full up on manga, so with some of my orders coming in soon I'll definitely be re-organizing it and shifting volumes over to half-height black shelf.

And last but not least we have the pair of half-height white bookshelves in the basement. These are housing most of my "big" regular sized series, and has the majority of my complete manga titles. Because of that it's a little haphazard, but it was a great investment for overflow and space. For those curious the two jerseys you can just see in the image are Todd Gurley on the left and Keenan Allen on the right.

So that's where I'm at right now, just around 940 volumes. If you're curious about what all's in my collection (since some is hard to see/make out) you can check out my libib here. Getting close to 1000 certainly is pretty wild, so maybe I'll do another collection post once I hit that milestone!

#manga collector #manga collection #manga #anime and manga #collection update