#I would only be able to have hanging plants and the space would be very confined aka only one or two

[megansplants]

Fall is approaching quickly and I’m still trying to figure out what my living situation might look like. Looking more and more likely that I’m going to have to get rid of a significant number of my plants 😭😭😭😭💔

#the housing market is SUCH GARBAGE right now #we had talked about buying my parents’ house but it would just be a stupid financial move #too expensive #we could do it with our salaries but it would compromise our ability to travel #Bridger is pretty unwilling to rent #which is fair #but it’s unclear what’s going to happen to house prices #if I continue to stay with my parents for a few more months after the bar they’re going to ask me to start paying rent #and once they’re at the new house with their cats my plants will no longer be safe #as a last-ditch effort we’re ponding maybe trying to find temporary space for me at Bridger’s house #but his house is so small that it would be really hard for there to be multiple pets and multiple people #like a 600sqft house for 2 people 2 cats and an anxious dog #and would require a lot of modification to make that happen #and would also require me to give up a LOT of plants #I love Hermey but he is an absolute asshole when it comes to plants and I wouldn’t be able to have ANY on any kind of surface or shelf #I would only be able to have hanging plants and the space would be very confined aka only one or two #and the property isn’t big enough for a greenhouse bc it’s a split 1/4 acre lot #aka……. it might be that our only choice to be able to live together involves me giving up my plants until house prices improve

[aroaceleovaldez]

was thinking about next-gen kids and decided to doodle a couple. elaborated thoughts below:

Iphis is named with the same naming conventions that Sally used when naming Percy - primarily, mythological figure who had a good fate. Nice for Percy to honor his mom by naming his own kid the same way and Annabeth gets a fun nerdy mythology name. Also sending good vibes to their kid. Plus middle name directly in honor of Sally, of course.

Specific myth is Iphis and Ianthe, with the idea that a.) it's gender-neutral so works regardless of kid's gender and b.) not only does Iphis have a good fate, but arguably nothing bad happens to them ever and they get helped out by like three whole pantheons who show up in a literal parade and they live happily ever after. Percy and Annabeth are pushing for the BEST vibes possible.

(Also I am a very strong proponent of the "I don't think they'd name their kids after dead family/friends" so none of them have that)

Iphis of course inherited the Jackson family early grey hairs <3

Virginia is named after Juniper (cause Juniper is specifically implied to be Juniperus virginiana). She's probably been childhood bffs with Iphis since Iphis was born.

Chuck is Chuck. I gave him a Yankees jersey cause you know he's being raised as a sporty kid.

Do you ever think about how OP Frank and Hazel's kid would be. It's ridiculous. Quadruple legacy, including 2/3 of the Big Three. Frank by himself was already so OP the gods had to nerf him. Hazel came back from the dead and Frank kinda just said "nope" to dying that one time. Hazel presumably has every power that Nico has which is. A lot. Not to mention what Hazel has been shown to just be able to do on her own (including but not limited to SINKING AN ENTIRE SMALL ISLAND). Ares/Mars kids can functionally be completely invulnerable sometimes and also have some limited necromancy. Combo that with Hades/Pluto kids also being hard to kill and having necromancy as one of their main powers. Not to mention how Pluto geokinesis might combo with Chloris (goddess of spring) powers? And this kid is 100% being protected by both Nico (who is probably a deity by that point) and probably Pluto himself as well? Hello?

Anyways Hazel and Frank's kid is a total powerhouse. Possibly functionally immortal. Easily strongest demigod of her generation.

I like to think the latent Chloris legacy would crop up (probably in combo with Mars and Poseidon's plant aspects) and give them an accidental Persephone-type theme and that's fun. Frazel's goth daughter who takes after her grandmother (and uncle).

Figured since Frank is Canadian and Hazel is from Louisiana they'd go for a French name. The flower theme was not intentional on their part it just happened. Law of demigod naming conventions appears nonetheless.

I figure Leo might not have kids of his own but he probably still hangs around with Hazel and Frank so of course he's going to make their kid a cool thematic robot pet. He's probably her godfather or something.

Ronan is literally just some kid who showed up at the Chase Space who coincidentally was a legacy of Freyr and could shapeshift. Magnus and Alex obviously can't have kids cause they're dead, BUT some orphan with essentially a combo of their powers just shows up on their doorstep? Their kid now.

The ironic part is of course their shapeshifting powers just happen to be because they're distantly related to one of Annabeth's friends. Ronan finds himself suddenly gaining two parents and two cousins (Iphis and Lily) in rapid succession.

He only picks up Magnus' last name though cause Alex has 100% disowned her mortal parents.

He has a seal flipper cause shapeshifting and apparently "Ronan" means seal. I just wanted to draw those two showcasing their shapeshifting a lil bit.

Might try to doodle the other next-gen kid thoughts I had at some point but idk when. anyways yeah.

#pjo #percy jackson #riordanverse #mcga #< for ronan #pjo ocs #pjo next gen #< ?????????? #my art #Virginia may or may not have a crush on Iphis who knows #also Virginia is 100% worrying constantly about living up to her dad's legacy as lord of the wild #meanwhile like Iphis and Lily are just going ''haha powers go brrrrr'' #Iphis knows their parents want them to have as uneventful of a life as possible so they have absolutely zero worries #Lily meanwhile isn't worried about living up to her parents' legacies cause she knows she's OP as fuck #she is just fully aware that she is the most powerful demigod of her generation zero contest (or is she...?) #the only way she wouldn't be is if demititans turned up somehow #but who knows! they might! they could! #but regardless Lily is just under the assumption that She Is The Best #Ronan and Chuck dont really have any of that to worry about they're just vibing

[bella-rose29]

Darling

Nikolai Lantsov x f!reader

Woke up in a lot of pain because my body systems hate me, so I wrote this (I'm doing better now)

Word count: 1.4k (wtf i didn't mean to write this much lol)

Warnings: periods, anything period related, swearing, this is also based purely on my own experiences (although not the bit where he's hugging her 🥲), not proof read/edited

Tag list: @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mvidaaaa, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @simbaaas-stuff, @pietromaximoffsbabe (i'm so sorry lovely i completely forgot to add you earlier)

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck, fuck!"

"You alright, darling?"

"Yep, all good, Nik!"

Y/n was not at all good. She'd woken up next to an empty space that morning, smiling and shaking her head when she realised where her husband was, sat at his desk and already working, and then had felt an excruciating burst of pain in her abdomen. She heard Nikolai stand up, his chair thumping against the carpeted floor as he came over to the bed.

"Yeah, you're very clearly not alright, darling," he said as he took in her pained expression. "What's going on? Do you need me to get the healer?"

"Monthly cycle, and yes please," she gasped out.

"Okay. Are you able to move?" Y/n shook her head, blinking back the tears that were forming in her eyes. "Alright darling. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? Just gonna get the healer." He planted a kiss on her forehead, then practically sprinted out of the room. Y/n would have laughed if she thought it wouldn't hurt.

Nikolai really was only gone a few minutes, returning on his own but laden with heat packs. Y/n felt tears form for a different reason as he knelt down next to the bed to activate the heat packs, placing them on her lower stomach, adjusting them so that they all fit. The healer appeared with an assistant then, bag in hand as she sent Y/n an apologetic look.

"How are you doing, Your Majesty?"

"Not great," she whispered, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to force the pain away. It was times like these that Y/n wished she were Grisha; if she were a Healer or a Tidemaker then maybe she could heal the pain away or force her body to comply through the water in her brain. The healer and Nikolai were talking, although Y/n couldn't make out what was being said, but then a minute or so later her husband was out the room and the healer was placing her hands over Y/n's abdomen, attempting to ease the Queen's pain. The assistant had brought a change of underclothes, helping Y/n to swap them.

"The King has just gone to arrange some things so that your day is easier for you, Your Majesty, he'll be back in a bit. I'll stay here for as long as you need, and in a moment I'll ask you to take the tonic on your bedside table, alright?" Her voice was calm and soothing, and Y/n felt ready to drift off.

"What's the tonic for?"

"It should alleviate some of the pain. We've only recently developed it, but it's had an incredibly high success rate."

"Oh, okay." She was feeling better now, the work the healer was doing helping hugely, and the heat packs distracted from what pain was left over.

"Are you able to sit, Your Majesty?"

"I think so, hang on." Wincing at the stab of pain when she moved, Y/n gritted her teeth, and with the help of the healer was able to sit up in bed. Nikolai returned then, now carrying a box of some description, and his face lit up at the sight of his wife looking better.

"I've got chocolate," he said, lifting the box. "And I managed to convince the head cook to surrender a couple of those breakfast pastries you love so much. Don't feel you need to eat anything now, darling, just let me know and I'll get it for you." She laughed lightly, flinching when it made the pain increase, and took the hand he offered when he sat down next to her. He managed to manoeuvre them so that he was sat behind her, a leg on either side. He pressed kisses to her hair every now and then, arms stroking up and down her arms, sometimes drifting down to gently stroke her stomach.

"Do you think you're able to take the tonic now, Your Majesty?"

"Yeah, I think so."

It tasted bitter going down, and nothing seemed to happen, but the healer reassured her that it would kick in within about 20 minutes.

"I just need to go and sort a few things out, Your Majesty, but I'll come back every so often to check up on how you're doing and bring you more tonics, alright?"

"Thank you," Nikolai said, grateful smile appearing on his face. The healer and her assistant bowed, exiting the room. The couple sat in silence for a while, Y/n basking in the warmth of the packs and her husband's body behind her, and the soft touches of his hands on her arms. Her heart ached with how gentle and loving he was being, and the tears came back. Hearing her quiet sniffles, Nikolai panicked, thinking it had gotten worse.

"What's wrong, darling? Does it still hurt?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Well, yes, but not as much. It's not that though. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed by you, Nik."

Although she couldn't see it, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Me? Why?"

"I've never been looked after like this before. It's nice. And I guess because we were arranged I thought you wouldn't care that much, but you do, and my body is all out of whack right now which isn't helping but it's making me want to cry because I love you."

Nikolai was silent for a while, never stopping stroking her arms, but Y/n started to worry. She was just about to speak up when he finally spoke.

"I love you too, Y/n."

Then she really did start crying, tears slipping down her face and wetting the bedsheets. Nikolai turned her face towards his, softly wiping away what he could and leaning in to press his lips to hers. It was brief, but more full of love than any other they'd shared, and Y/n couldn't believe how lucky she'd been in getting him as her husband.

"Wait," she said, pulling away with a frown. "What about your meetings?"

"Cancelled them," Nikolai shrugged. "You're more important to me, darling."

"Won't Zoya be mad? That you're leaving things to her?"

"She was actually weirdly understanding for Zoya. I'm fully convinced I'm going to be sent some very strongly worded letters involving death threats, though. Or made to plant face first into the lake by a strong wind."

Y/n giggled, picturing the scenario, and made a mental note to ask Zoya to do just that. Preferably when Nikolai was in just his slacks, suspenders and undershirt, and not for any particular reason.

"You'll be fine, Kolya."

~~~

Later that day, Y/n was feeling much better, having taken another dose of the tonic, and was sat outside by the lake with Zoya. Nikolai had rescued a frog (although the frog looked rather happy where it was) and was placing it on the bank. All of a sudden, the wind picked up, and Nikolai was pushed in the water, arms windmilling as he fell. It was a warm day, so he'd taken off his jacket, and while Y/n did feel a little bad for asking Zoya to push him in, all regrets were washed away when he emerged from the lake, completely soaked with water from head to toe.

He stalked over, trying not to smile at how loudly his wife was laughing, and pointed an accusatory finger at the Grisha General.

"I know that was you, Zoya. How could you, to your King, of all people!"

"I was just doing what my Queen commanded, Your Majesty," she mock bowed from where she sat, smirk on her face as she watched Nikolai wipe the water from his eyes. Y/n was still cackling next to her, and Zoya was glad to see her friend doing better than this morning.

"Darling Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like a hug?" Her eyes widened, almost comically so, as Nikolai leaned in, arms open wide. She shrieked with joy as he got closer, pushing him away (not really, he was far too strong).

"Nik!" she laughed, all thoughts of pain completely forgotten.

He did eventually get his hug, but only when he was clean and dry (Y/n had found bits of grass and water plants in his hair), and not threatening to cover Y/n in lake water.

"Thank you, Nik, for everything today."

"Of course, darling. I love you."

"Love you too," she hummed, drifting off in her husband's arms.

#grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai x y/n

[alitheamateur]

After Hours

I’m sooo new to this JB fanfic world! Go easy on me 😎 Someone planted this little seed, so I obliged. Some smutty, smut, smut, so enjoy yourself. You’ve been warned 🫠

Preseason was a plethora of emotions for you. The anticipation of the impending season and the ring it may deliver for your guy was the indescribable high it brought. But, you couldn’t help but feel the heavy dread of Joe’s time with you slipping away once more as the month of May arrived.

Off season for him was coincidentally your slowest time of year at work as well, which meant the two of you were attached at the hip. Actually, more so attached in other places. Much more fun, satisfying places

Joe had fallen into the grind and sway of mini camp earlier last week, and you’d already seen so much less of that beach tanned face than you would ever prefer. A spring event you were knee deep in planning for a new business downtown had your attention on lockdown into the late evening hours, usually after Joe had been in bed for a while upon your arrival home. The ebb and flow of responsibility wearing out it’s welcome in your relationship.

Lucky for you, you had some pull with one very valuable QB, who could snag you some VIP access, & he had planned you join him at the facility for your cardio after work, rather than the 24-hour gym you typically attended alone 4 times a week.

You’d changed in your office as the sun dozed off into the night, & were about to take a left into the stadium lot when your phone chimed.

J: Let me know when you’re here. I’ll come walk you up.

Most spaces were empty as majority of the team had turned in for the night, but occasionally Joe liked to hang around late and get an ice bath in after the heat of his day.

You slung your car into park, gathering your keys and such, and waited for Joe to arrive at your beckoning.

Just as you’d opened the door of your white SUV he’d come gliding out the double doors of the tunnel. Still clad in the sticky residue of a sweaty afternoon, his tussled curls bounced from under the confines of a black headband. The thin coverings of a nearly painted on sleeveless shirt left little to your already soaring imagination as he patiently approached you with a lazy half smile.

“There she is.” He cooed, snaking a wide, sinewy forearm around your waist.

You met his eager kiss, sneaking a salty taste of his top lip between your teeth briefly.

“Let’s get this show on the road, Burrow. I have plans for you when we get home.”

Joe raised his groomed eyebrows in curious intrigue, nodding his head as he intertwined his fingers with yours to escort you inside.

The lights of the hallways had been switched off, the glow of an office here and there lighting the way towards the weight room. Once you’d twisted and turned through the doorways of the locker room and PT areas, Joe let loose of your hand to gesture toward his polar plunge.

“ I lifted while the guys were still here but Ja’Marr and I moved the bike in here for you so we could be closer.”

As he explained, he nonchalantly eliminated the cover of his spandex shirt, the lines of his back showing off in full view.

This man is actually going to have the audacity to outright strip himself like there’s nothing to it.

You played his coy game, realizing if you didn’t, there was no way you’d be able to keep your grubby paws off of him until the two of you reached home.

Slinging a leg over the seat of the exercise bike, you shifted comfortably & moved to pop a headphone into one ear for some background music.

“I can play something through the speakers, babe.” Joe mentioned, dragging your attention to his bear naked frame about to slink into the sea of slush.

His breath hitched, but only momentarily as he disappeared below the beck into the tub, still leaving you a view of his broad biceps laid over sides of his bath.

Smiling, still baffled at his calm, collective behavior, you nodded. “Only if you promise to play things I like too, stereo hog.”

He reached for his phone, poking at the screen behind quizzical brows just as H.E.R echoed faintly through the concrete walls.

You’d already began to pedal, a sheen of liquid collecting on your chest beneath a white tank top. Joe would ask a brief question about dinner, and you’d inquire how camp was going, catching up on each other as the moments passed.

Your focus lie far, far away from anything other than him.

The racket of ice chattered off the sides of the metal tub as he’d shift his apparently sore knees beneath the water, causing him to stretch his thick neck from side to side. A board hand combing back the stray waves ticking his forehead, water from his bath dampened the knotted locks.

Your breaths were hitching with the heaviest rise and fall watching him, the motion of your speedy pedaling easier on you than the sight of him.

“Slow down, baby. You’re not gonna be able to walk outta here.” Joe chuckled, oblivious to the fact that your workout had nothing to do with your panicked pace.

Reaching for a towel, he revealed himself from beneath the water, arising from the pool like statuesque sex. Eyes down as he tied the towel around his hips, not hurriedly, assuring you catch the perfect glimpse of his gifted manhood, he then looked up, bottom lip biting back his arrogant, knowing smile. He winked toward you.

Your movements, and possibly even your breaths, ceased at the sight. Aches all unrelated to the exercise bicycle tore through your core viciously, undoubtedly giving away your want for him.

“Is anyone here?” You simply asked him.

Stepping out onto the floor, he matter of factly marched toward the locker room before picking up his phone.

“Nope.” He answered as he lifted you from atop the seat.

Your legs instantly tightened around his muscled stomach as he carried you with a purpose you were all too readily aware of.

The fluorescent lights of the carpeted room reflected off the wetness of both your bodies as Joe tongued his way inside your mouth, lowering your unsteady legs to the floor.

“Sit here.” He bossed, placing you on a chair directly in front of his name marked locker.

“You’re up to something,” you breathily remarked and he pulled off you shoes, then your leggings, nearly growling to find nothing underneath.

“You better fucking believe I am,” he boldly admitted. “Take off that damn bra.”

Like the law abiding citizen you were, you obeyed without second thought, although curious why he was stepping away from you.

Planting his still towel clad body a few feet in front of you, he lifted his phone to point in your direction.

“Look above your head,” Joe directed so you would turn to see his name plate just over top of you. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Confusion, however still arousal, swarmed you for a mere second before you connected the dots.

Joe wanted this memory forever. You, naked and flushed with overwhelming heat, pleasuring yourself in front of his locker, his name marker above you like a little gift tag. The success of his dreams come true, and his most prized asset all in one photo. Not to mention there wasn’t anything sexier to him than you being turned on by the colossal badass he was on the field.

You obliged with full commitment, not daring ruin this fantasy for him. As if you’d had to pretend to begin with…

You steadied yourself, legs spread wide, your neck fell back in a heavy daze as you touched between your thighs. Twinges of an anticipated release wasted no time trying to overcome you, almost seconds after you’d began. The excited and unfamiliar adventure of the moment almost too much to bear.

“Enough is enough.” Joe croaked with a scratchy throat. “I’m fucking taking you.”

Before you could protest, (as if you would) he was on his knees feasting and worshipping at the gap of your thighs like a man crazed. You tugged at his hair, latching a leg around his neck to steady yourself for his attack but there was no dignity left between the two of you. Screams of passion and groans of a starving man bounced off your ear drums, sounds you thought you may be arrested for had anyone witnessed.

“I could die one happy fucking man right now, princess. Such a good girl doing what daddy says.”

Trying to resist the explosion you felt in your belly, simply trying to make the moment last, you held your breath. But the resistance had no chance against Joe. You shook from head to toe, squashing the near life out of his handsome face as you clenched in release around him.

Barely taking a second to let him recover from snack time, you swiftly tugged him to the seat now slick with your sticky sweetness & mounted his wide lap with giddy readiness.

You knew better than to slid onto him without slow preparation, but the fire inside you spread like a ruthless flame & you couldn’t take the time for forms of restraint. Joe laid his palm on your panting throat, his thumb bitten between your hard bite. He never took the blown pupils of his eyes off of you as you frantically rode his solid member. Joe’s tongue grazed the love of your ear, the labored exhales of your name encouraging you.

“This what you had in mind?” You whimpered, digging into his shoulder for leverage.

His worked palm’s grazed their way over every goosebump on your swaying body, their destination bound for the gentle shimmy of your plump cheeks. The way he molded into you was an indescribable bliss that your body had learned to crave more than any morsel of food known to man. The sensation of his meaty, toned core flexed under your clawed fingers, and he kissed his answer into your mouth.

“This is always what I have in mind, gorgeous. I never get tired of this soft little pussy.” He chuckled devilishly, his sexy smile only sending you farther over pleasures edge.

Your sudden, clenching jolts, taunting Joe inside of you, and you saw the familiar furrow of his brow that meant he was shamelessly losing himself to your feminine sway.

Tilting your heads back in united ecstasy, the pair of you rode of the finishings, headed skin electric against one another.

“We should make a habit of this,” Joe traced small lines on the small of your back, peppering you with thoughtful kisses. He was proud of himself, cheeky son of a bitch.

He helped you get dressed before clothing himself, escorting you go your car, flirting like a teenager the whole way, his arm snug around your shoulders.

“We still have to shower when we get home..” He reminded.

Maybe the seasons beginning wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#joe burrow #fanfic #joe burrow fan fic #fanction #joseph lee burrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl fan fic #oneshot #joe burrow fanfiction

[recurring-polynya]

In honor of it re-blooming, this week's houseplant spotlight is my African violet:

I bought this at the beginning of the summer. It was in a little 4" pot at the time, and had a few nice blooms. African violets are a bit higher difficulty level than I usually aim for, but my grandmother was known for being able to nurse African violets back to health. She had a big table in her front window crowded with pots of them that people had given her, practically dead, and she would coax them back to life. I wanted to grow one of my own as a fond memory of her.

So! Here are my tips and tricks!

This is a reservoir pot. The black part lifts out, and you pour water into the bottom. There are some wicks that hang down and soak up the water, delivering it to the roots. African violets have downy leaves that will be damaged by getting wet, so you never want to spritz them.

I used African violet mix, which has two advantages. (1) it's a little acidic, and (2) it barely retains water. Used in combo with the reservoir pot, the plant will get a steady supply of water to its roots without sitting in damp soil.

I keep it under an LED grow light, so it gets 12 hours a day of direct light.

After it finished its first bloom, I pinched off the spent blossoms. The blooms grow on a little stem that is very charmingly named a "peduncle". If only one or two blooms has died, you can pull off just the dead ones, but once they've all gone, you can trim out the entire peduncle. It's also good to prune off a few of the outer leaves, which gives the plant more space, lets it direct more energy to new growth, and keeps it looking nice.

And that's it! I've been super successful with this one-- it's probably twice the size it was when I got it, and it's bursting with flowers at the moment. I'm very proud of myself (and my violet)!

#houseplant spotlight #houseplants #african violets

[hermidetta]

[ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 ] : after being misinformed that the sender has died, receiver is grieving.

* for you i would.

when does a war end? when can i say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?

they already died once.

bernadetta thought she had lost jules forever. but jules turned out to be alive. jules is yuri—yuri is jules. yuri is alive! and wasn't that the most wonderful discovery? yuri, her childhood friend, being alive?

bernadetta doesn't think she has the right to most everything in this world, let alone the right to ask which name of theirs is real. what matters is them. yuri can use whatever name they want as long as they stay alive.

alive. yuri is supposed to stay alive. she's probably begged it of them more times than she could possibly count—arguably sounding silly nine times out of ten, arguably just enough so she doesn't give away that she cares more than she should (she does, she does, she does care more than she should) because she is a repulsive worthless thing that nobody in their right mind would want caring for them—

and because yuri is no longer jules. yuri is no longer jules, and she cannot just wildly lunge and hug his arm like the girl she used to be. she is lucky enough that yuri might still think of her as a friend now. might. she does not dare assume beyond that. she can live with being a ghost or a blemish or nothing at all as long as yuri stays alive.

but whatever the case, yuri is supposed to stay alive.

yuri almost died because of her, already, and bernadetta can only imagine from the glint of their lavender eyes what hells they have clawed through afterwards. one 'almost' should have been more than enough. if not for her, then for them.

but yuri does not return from their mission. that is at least what she has been told. the debriefer shakes bernadetta off his elbow like the pest she is, and before he walks away, the punch of his words slams her into silence.

her first friend is dead. her first heart is dead. her father crushed them once and now they're dead again. immediately, the loudest thoughts come back:

if yuri had just brought down the knife that night like they were supposed to—

if yuri had just been able to take that gold and run without looking back—

later that night, she slinks haggardly into the greenhouse with rot in her steps and a pouch in her grasp.

bernadetta von varley is allowed a corner—a very humble one, secluded, but her own all the same. there she grows her peculiar motley of flowers, from colorful blooms to carnivorous plants. next to a fanged flytrap, there is a space in the dirt from a recent harvest of herbs. into her palm, she turns over the pouch in her possession, and small seeds tumble out.

she usually sings while she does this, but has no heart for it tonight. the seeds get buried in the soil with the care of a casket; her hands pat down the soft mound, then clasp—she doesn't know if it is a gesture of prayer or a mere pantomime of. she just doesn't know. she just doesn't know.

all things considered: she cannot bring herself to pray to the goddess her father claims to regale. the man's wretched face flickers through her mind. acid and ache rise in her throat.

and there, bernadetta cannot pinpoint exactly when the dam breaks—just that it breaks.

it shatters like the porcelain of a teaset she gets punished for dropping. it bursts like the double doors of her old room when the suitors won't buy her. it claps like a palm against the wood of a table and sends her careening over the edge.

so bernadetta, unable to hold back any longer, finally tells yuri.

crying, gasping, she hangs her head to the planted seeds and tells them everything, through the uncontrollable hiccups and sobs, the words streaming from her lips like the tears down her cheeks. she tells them about the wicked count, tells them all the truths she never thought would see the light of day. she explains to yuri that she is just property. she tells them that before the academy, she had forgotten how much it meant to be offered a hand instead of taking the back of it.

she tells them about why she cut her hair, about the fist in it that made her kick and scream so hard that even her mother could no longer stand by—how the woman had bernadetta bagged like garbage and shipped to the monastery without any say. she sobs and apologizes, over and over, for everything that makes sense, and for everything that doesn't.

"and sorry, i'm sorry, i shouldn't be dumping all of this on you—"  because even in death bernadetta gives yuri more humanity than she will ever give herself. more humanity, more grace, and infinitely more kindness.  "but i always really, really wanted to tell you the truth, you know? always. that i wished i could've ran—"

her voice cracks. "—ran away, with you, wherever you went, even if that was selfish of me. or that i wished you could've killed me if it meant one of us could live happy. a-and i know, i'm just bernie, i don't mean much! i know already! bernie's worthless and doesn't have to mean anything to anybody! and i promise that's okay, but for me you're someone who... who...!"

bernadetta swears that her heart has been ripped out from her ribs, flung to the dirt and stomped into paste. she can't take it. she can't take it. not when it's yuri. not when she has spent her life shut in that birdcage, bars just wide enough to have a loved few she can count on a hand—and to lose the one she already mourned most? what kind of sick punishment was it? why was it hers? she loves, and loves, and loses. bernadetta always loses. she weeps into her hands, nails curling crescents into her face.

she doesn't know how long the moon hangs over her head, sneering down at her foolish lament. at some point she balls into herself, head tucked over her knees with clenched fists on the ground. bernadetta cries and mourns until she's out of air, out of strength, out of everything—and somewhere along the way she toes across the line into slumber, limping onto her side with finality in her bones. the last thing she thinks she sees is the watery blur of lavender petals.

#aubins #it got so long i cut it help me im so doomed im so doomed #asks / #abuse cw / #just in case but yeah :laughsob: #s: ⚘ * i've left you flowers — all sorts of types (i don't know what you like) | aubins #this was all over the place because she was all over tghe place HELP LMFAO #i scream with my entire mouth shut and act sane i scream with mg entire mouth shut i will not talk about bernadetta making herself small #when i'm in a self destruction competition and my opponent is bernadetta von varley #ty for sending darcy!! i love them both a lot and love getting to bounce her off of yuri. sorry she's such a mess rn #bern when she learns this was all a sike won't be able to look at yuri for ages like [marge simpson.jpeg] #it can def be taken as either canon or not whatever you would like hehe!!

[i-am-a-meat-popcicle]

Are you interested in more Fe3h worldbuilding lore because there's so much implicit stuff!! You can look at the character and country name and what they reference, the way the dress, or even what Fe3h is inspired from ( did you know the game take a lot of inspiration from Irish culture )!

For example, did you know that Sothis correspond to the Egyptian goddess Sopdet? She's the personification of the star Sirius, a reference to how Sothis come from space which lead to her being called "Fell Star" by the Agarthans. But more importantly, Sopdet is linked to the annual flooding of the Nile! It join how Sothis flooded Fodlan "In the land of Thinis, where the old gods are said to live, the False God has awakened. Its looming, heteromorphic vessel was resurrected to sink the world to the depths of the ocean. It will bring extinction to all children of men, and salvation to all beasts of the land, sky, and sea. [...] And soon, a flood aptly named Despair will drown this world. [...]" ( from the book "Romance of the World's Perdition" in the Shadow Library of the DLC ). Also, she's the goddess of the fertility brought to the soil by the flooding which tie with how Sothis created the Nabataean, the current humans, magic outside of Dark Magic and the crest. It's implied she created more than that in the book of Seiros ( it says she created all plants and animals ), but we can't take it by words with how the current Nabataeans rewrote the past to found the Church of Seiros to protect their kind.

For more crest lore personally I love this dialog from Linhardt A support with Byleth:

"Well, I don't see how Crests have much use in times of peace. Certainly there are Crests that make you stronger and could be used in engineering. And I suppose Crests that increase magical abilities might help doctors heal injuries... Still, the possibilities seem limited. It's as if Crests were designed to be used only in times of war. Their power meant to bring about death and destruction. I cannot prove what I say is true, but suppose for a moment that it is... The longer this war goes on, the more useful my Crest research becomes. But if the war were to end today, we would go on living, perhaps not using the power of our Crests at all."

( Very sorry for the unwanted ranting! I have no control over myself when it comes Fe3h lore )

Short answer: I'm just a little weirdo that gets hung up about weird details in games, and Fe3h has a lot of weird and interesting details. Long answer [and I might even talk about unrelated stuff too, sorry I don't often have the chance to talk about fe3h]: About fe3h, the game is surprisingly good at giving you just enough information to ask more questions, and then when you start paying more attention you're hit with more moments of "wait a second- what?" "That doesn't seem right." And part of that has to do with the fact that a lot of the time the information that characters give you [or Byleth] is somewhat unreliable, due to them either keeping vital information to them selves, they don't know the whole story, they're trying to manipulate you, or they're outright lying to you.

I remember I had a lot of hang-ups about Dimitri blaming Edelgard for what happened in Duscur because I had a hard time believing that a fourteen year-old would be able to orchestrate the assassination of a foreign nation's king [especially when considering the timeline of events for Edelgard herself]. However, in Dimititri's case his perception of the truth was warped by multiple factors. Such as his severe lack of sleep and rest, possible malnutrition, his abysmal emotional state, implied schizophrenia [or something like it idk I'm not a doctor], and the fact that Edelgard was, indeed, working to kill him and all of his friends for a year. It's not so much that he logically believes it or that Edelgard was responsible for Duscur, it's that he had to fight her anyway, and her involvement with it may as well make her responsible. [still kinda bullshit but it makes sense as to why he's being the way he is]

A better example would have been how Tomas/Solan tries to manipulate Claude into thinking that there was some kind of church conspiracy with information about the immaculate one only for Claude to later stop listening to him after he found out who Solan really was and what he wanted. But that was one of the things that were solved in-story which left me less room to chomp on and obsess over. [not a bad thing- this is good story writing.]

The other reason is that sometimes the writers mess something up but depending on what that is it can be more interesting to find an in-universe reason why something doesn't add up. For instance the whole thing about the Red Canyon. It's implied to be called that because the Nabateans were genocides there. The funky thing there is that Nabatean blood isn't red, it's green. What this can imply is a few things, that Nabateans have red blood in a human form, or there was a mistranslation somewhere between the Nabateans and the humans they worked with, or it was deliberate [which makes more sense now that I think about it]. Basically, it was probably called something along the lines of "bloody canyon" or something due to the tragedy that happened there, but it got changed to red canyon because The saints [or just Rhea/Sieros] wanted to both keep the history a secret, but also wanted memorialize what happened.

The game is filled with little stuff like this that give me so many little brain worms, and that tends to be the start of it. The rest of it comes with me mentally writing fanfic with an oc and I start to go: "Like what are their bathrooms like, how does the plumbing systems work, what tools are available, if magic exists how does it work, does magic still follow the law of conservation of mass, how does magic and using it affect the body, etc."

Like, the implicit stuff and the inspirations are definitely a factor, but it's primarily my little brain going off the rails and asking way too many questions that probably doesn't matter.

#asks #kris rambles #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #worldbuilding #other lore implications #idk #The other thing I didn't talk about is that sometimes I just like to shake my fist at the source material #But that's what I do with borderlands so far; not fe3h as much surprisingly #perks of fe3h being a pure fantasy instead of si-fi #I still do shake my fist at fe3h's worldbulding but that tends to be about stuff we're just not allowed to know #or stuff that the devs didn't want or have time to develop #which I guess is fair; fe3h feels like it was a massive project.

[tokusaatsus]

Hi! I really love your works and it's always fun and enjoying to read them! It's a shame that I didn't made it for the event reqs but i saw that regular reqs are open, if that's what you call them? XD Anyway, can I request for Kohaku, Mayoi, and Hiiro being a secret admirer to the reader? Thank you!

HOW THEY WOULD ACT AS A SECRET ADMIRER

ft. amagi hiiro, ayase mayoi, oukawa kohaku

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: none (as of now)

In my opinion, Hiiro is too honest and straight-forward to be considered a ‘secret’ admirer. I feel like he wouldn’t see any reason to hide the fact that he is the one sending you the letters?

Since he wants you to see them and feel appreciated, he would probably think you’d like it better if you knew who your admirer was.

The only reason he doesn’t is because Aira assured him it would be more romantic that way. Out of the two of them, Aira is the more well-versed in pop culture, so Hiiro decides to take him at face value.

I am a firm believer in the idea that Hiiro unironically enjoys puns. So he probably sends you lovemail in that style. Little sticky notes with cute doodles and adorable puns pasted on your desk, or on your doorframe.

Like:

If you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber ♡ or Are you a banana? Because I find you very a-peel-ing ♡

They’re small, usually mentioning food or animals, but they still manage to fluster you with their simplicity.

He places them at intervals–one in the morning, and one in the evening!

It’s especially sweet when you’re having a bad day and you just see these cute little notes. It makes you brighten up and forget your worries, even if it’s only for a little bit.

And that’s exactly what Hiiro wants! He’s glad that he’s able to bring you even a fraction of the joy he gets when he’s around you.

Signs off with little spades, just as a hint!

He does reveal himself eventually, though, because he feels like there’s no need for him to remain a secret anymore.

The only reason you didn’t suspect him to be your secret admirer despite the teeny spade doodles is because you thought that he wouldn’t hide it, rather he would just outright tell you, which is why you’re so surprised when you realise.

Even after you find out, he still makes it a habit to send you the puns–though not so secretly–because he likes seeing you smile when you receive them!

Mayoi is probably the most secretive out of the 3. He would rather die than let his position be revealed.

He finds himself writing you flowery, poetry-esque short letters with cute little doodles whenever he’s thinking about you (which is a lot!). He would prefer to never have to send them ever, but he also thinks you deserve to be appreciated for all the hard work and effort you put into things.

You are strong, you are brave, you make flowers bloom in my heart. A whole garden, just for you. My heart, no matter how small and shrivelled, will always have a space for you. You are more perfect than you know ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

He’s certain you wouldn’t like any messages from a gross creature such as himself, so he decides to take the good ol’ secret admirer route.

Goes full-out super spy when it comes to planting your letters.

Crawls into the vents at 4am so he can place them on your desk before school starts, sneaks into the ES kitchen at midnight to place one in your mug, etc, etc. He’s putting those ninja skills to good use!

You’re like a blushing schoolgirl being serenaded, honestly. It’s sweet.

These letters are the highlight of your day. Not just because of how cute they are, but also because no one can figure out where they’re coming from? No matter how hard you try, you can never catch the culprit who is slowly but surely stealing your heart!?

The actual reveal happens by accident.

You wake up in the middle of night, craving the most delicious drink known to mankind. You open the kitchen doors and lo and behold, what do you find but Mayoi, a piece of paper in one hand and your favoured mug in the other.

Hang on… Your sleep-addled brain starts to connect the dots. Is Mayoi-san…my secret admirer?

Starts stammering about how y-you’ve got it a-a-all wrong and eep! I’m s-s-sorry for r-ruining your night!

You giggle, startling him, and tell him that it’s okay before thanking him for how sweet his words were. You tell him that he also has a special place in your heart and he nearly dies. Hopefully you know CPR? Or maybe…mouth-to-mouth?

Sends you shoujo-style lovemail in the form of adorable letters praising all your virtues and commenting on how cute you are when you smile.

You wouldn’t expect Kohaku to write such cheesy things so easily, but all those Ghibli marathons with Aira have paid off. It started off as a way for Kohaku to express his feelings for you in secret, but after a few too-close calls with Rinne, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

This way, he can tell you how he feels without embarrassing himself and also seeing how you flush every time you see one of his letters on your desk makes him more pleased then the cat that caught the canary.

Dear Y/N,

I hope your day is going well?

People always talk about how bright the sun is, but I think you’re the brightest thing in my sky. You push me to be the best version of myself, I want to be the way you see me. You manage to stay brave and strong, and I admire your desire to be the very best you can be. You’re a blessing to the people around you, and I thought you should know this. I’m not…very good at expressing my emotions but, I hope that this could make you smile just a little bit. That’s all.

You deserve good things.

Love, 🌸

His letters are so sweet and heartfelt, they make you giddy.

You slowly start anticipating the letters everyday. There’s always a kind note and a query about your day, it feels like the writer really cares about you.

This goes on for around a month, and then you decide that you need to find your so-called secret admirer so you can thank them for their kind words and praise.

When he finds out you’re looking for the writer of the letters, Aira pushes him to reveal himself but Kohaku doesn’t want to. He feels like it might be a letdown for you, and he doesn’t want to tarnish your experience.

But Aira, who knows that there’s no way you would shun him for something like this–actually there’s no way you would ever shun him, period–decides to casually let it slip in conversation that Kohaku’s been writing love letters for someone. Oh, Y/N, you are the recipient of these letters? How shocking~

When you thank Kohaku earnestly for how kind he is–and be sure to compliment him about his writing skills while you’re at it!–he’s flustered like you wouldn’t believe, but also incredibly happy as well. 

notes!

WC: 1.1k

reze txt HELP this was so long omg im?? but secret admirers are sooo cute ahhhh <33 i hope this made up for u missing my 100 followers event anonnie! and that it was as enjoyable to read as it was to write!!

#✒️...scribbles! #amagi hiiro x reader #ayase mayoi x reader #oukawa kohaku x reader #enstars x reader #amagi hiiro #ayase mayoi #oukawa kohaku #alkaloid #crazy:b #alkakurei #enstars

[reddragon30000]

Consequences

This will be part of my Wednesday fic 'Hearthside Healing' on AO3. When I get around to writing that far.

Warnings: spanking

Claws digging into the oak of the corridor wall, Red scuttled along it at ceiling height, keeping a close eye on who was walking down the corridor. 

She wanted to keep clear of Weems, especially since the hatchling had just messed up her office. She should have plenty of time, especially since it would take some time for the Principal to find out what she had-

"RED!"

Or perhaps not. As long as she kept out of sight, she should be able to escape. Since there was no one there, Red dropped to the floor. 

Peeking into the quad, Red could see no-one she was uncomfortable with and crawled into the light. Claws digging into the grass, she scampered close to the fountain, pausing for a moment to allow Bianca to pet her. 

As she moved towards the path leading to the beehives, she stopped as she saw Eugene and Wednesday coming towards her. 

They were discussing the new deadly strain of bee that Eugene was breeding, pausing when they saw the hatchling crouched on the grass. 

Eugene brightened and moved towards her, grunting as Red jumped up at him and wrapped her arms around his ribs. She nuzzled against his chest, rumbling in contentment as he clumsily stroked her hair.  

He murmured thoughtfully:

"If you come and see me tomorrow morning, I have a box of wax I don't have a use for." 

Smiling at her excited squeal, he carefully removed himself from her strong embrace. 

Dropping on all fours, she tilted her head slightly as Wednesday came up to her. Extending a hand, the Addams allowed the hatchling to analyse the scents from her skin. 

With a smile that was barely discernible, the Addams girl lightly stroked her cheek. 

All of them but Wednesday jumped as an angry bellow erupted from the entrance of the quad. 

"RED! Come out this instant!"

Cringing, the hatchling shared a terrified and horrified look with her friends, before springing into the undergrowth.

Claws digging into the earth, she made her way towards the old shed that Xavier used. Sniffing at the door, she was surprised to hear an amused chuckle behind her, as the owner of the shed scooped her from the ground. 

Hanging limply from his grasp, she frowned as she tried to puzzle out what was wrong about the scents around her. There was something not quite right. 

Slightly damp earth and plants, the musty scent of wet wood from the shed door. Those were as usual. But Xavier's scent, something was wrong…

Red only vaguely registered the ominous comment from the boy who still held her. 

"In trouble again? You are trying to hide, to escape, but you didn't do enough…" 

A moment later, that comment and what had been bothering her about Xavier's scent brought her to a horrifying conclusion. It was instantly proved correct.

There was a crunching sound and the arms that held her grew longer and thinner. The material of the light jacket that coated those arms changed into wool. 

The hatchling was being held by the very person that she had tried to escape from. Principal Weems was holding her. 

Instantly, fear and anger made her react. Snarling, she twisted and writhed, claws digging into Weems' dress as she tried to free herself. 

The woman barely reacted, merely tugging the hatchling free of her dress and slinging her over her shoulder. Ignoring the claws scratching at the wool and the furious kicks, Weems began to march back towards her office. 

All the students who came across the pair gave them as much space as possible. Even Wednesday took one look at the icy rage in her Principal's blue eyes and swallowed the snarky comment she had been about the unleash. 

Weems strode into her office and dropped Red into a chair before closing and locking the door. It took all of the hatchling's willpower not to flinch as the shape-shifter released her anger in a furious hiss:

"What were you thinking?!"

Red scowled, her hands jerking out a petulant response. 

'No Weathervane. So no office.' 

Weems' eyes narrowed as she ground out:

"You destroyed my office because I  grounded you and wouldn't let you go to the Weathervane?" 

Red folded her arms and nodded. 

The Principal turned towards the fireplace, taking a deep breath. Red was clearly deliberately trying to push her buttons, and it would do their relationship no good if she was not completely in control, even when furious. 

Turning back towards the hatchling, she crouched down, so that their faces were level. She said slowly:

"You seem to think that any consequences I give to you don't matter, that you can do what you wish with no thought to how it affects others."

For a moment, a realisation crossed Red's face, before she snarled and snapped out an angry reply in sign:

'Don't care! You all in my way!'

Weems shook her head in disappointment. Despite her fury over the way her office was now in complete disarray, she had hoped to be able to get through to her ward. 

She had no wish to issue the punishment she had warned the hatchling about, but if she did not, Red would believe her words to be hollow. 

Gripping the hatchling's shoulders firmly, Weems said:

"I told you before that you would end up with a smacked bottom if you destroyed anywhere in the school, or hurt someone deliberately. So since you destroyed my office, that's what you will be receiving now."

Red hissed in anger and wariness before swiping at Weems with a clawed hand. Well used to how Red used violence to express her anger, Weems dodged the claws, pulling the hatchling out of chair and slinging her face-down across her lap as she sat down in her own chair. 

Startled and off balance, Red whined in distaste and dread as she realised the position she was now in. 

The Principal held onto the hatchling securely, then steeling herself, brought her hand down sharply onto the hatchling's backside.

Red whimpered, tears filling her eyes at the sting she felt. Technically, she had known what this punishment would involve, but hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did. 

Delivering another few strong smacks, Weems stopped after the forth, deeming that her child had endured enough.

Principal Weems pulled her up and held her at arm's length, perched on her lap. 

"I want you to reflect on your actions. You cannot cause this much destruction because you are prevented from doing what you want." 

Hearing a hesitant knock on her office door, Weems sighed and tucked the hatchling under one arm. Placing her down on a sofa near the fire, she headed towards the door. 

She was not entirely surprised to see Enid and Wednesday enter her office as she unlocked the door. 

Red was too deeply entrenched in her misery to hear the door opening, clutching desperately at a cushion as she wailed into the material. 

She had never before been in such a situation. Her bottom was stinging unpleasantly, and a terrible guilt was curling through her mind.  

She had destroyed the office of a woman who had only ever offered her kindness and protection. She had pushed her too far, and paid the price. 

Enid looked very worried when she saw the state Red was in. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out what had happened. The Principal's office was not exactly soundproof, and she and Wednesday had heard everything as they walked towards the office door.

Somehow keeping her voice steady and almost casual, she said:

"Can we have Red in our dorm for a bit? We've been reading Lord of the Rings together." 

Wednesday stepped forward, closer to the hatchling as she murmured:

"Surely she has been punished enough?" 

Weems frowned, then replied slowly:

"A presumptuous statement, Miss Addams. But almost correct." 

Moving over to the hatchling, Weems plucked her from the sofa, raising her face until their eyes met. 

"You may go with Wednesday and Enid, but you will be helping me clean up this mess tomorrow morning, since you made it in the first place."

Red nodded, still sobbing, hands shakily forming her answer. 

'Yes, will clean up. Red sorry, very sorry.'

As Weems opened her mouth to accept the apology, a sudden hard determination flared in Red's amber eyes. She suddenly snarled out:

"Red sorry, never this again!"

Immediately she regretted forming a single word. The hatchling clutched at her throat, suddenly feeling like knives were shredding the inside. She coughed and choked, blood starting to flow from her mouth. 

Instantly, Weems clutched Red to her chest, holding a handkerchief to the hatchlings mouth. The stern, forbidding expression on her face instantly melted into distress and concern. She murmured in horror:

"Oh darling, you didn't need to speak!" 

Red whimpered, burying her face in Weems' shoulder as tears streamed down her face. Thankfully, the bleeding didn't last for long.  

Tossing the handkerchief into the bin near her desk, Principal Weems sat down on the sofa she had just pulled the hatchling from. 

Setting her down on her lap, she rocked her gently until Red stopped crying. Raising her damp, flushed face, Weems said gently:

"There, now. Its all over, little one. Everything is forgiven. Do you still want to go with Enid and Wednesday?"

Red nodded slowly, a tired grin stretching across her face. Suddenly, she launched herself off Weems' knee, slamming into Wednesday's legs as she attempted to tackle her to the floor. 

Unfortunately, even with the surprise caused by the lack of warning, Wednesday was ready for her. In a moment she had neatly flipped the hatchling, causing her to land on her back on the carpet with her legs in the air. 

Red growled crossly up at the older girl, crossing her arms as she sulked. Wednesday smirked and hauled her from the floor, dangling the hatchling over her shoulder like a sack. 

She said soothingly:

"Don't worry, my little horror. You'll get me one day. We just need to keep practising."

Weems rolled her eyes, but didn't interfere. In her own way, Wednesday was fond of the hatchling, and Red being able to defend herself was not a bad thing, despite who was teaching her. 

Capturing the gazes of both girls, Weems intoned:

"You can have Red with you until curfew, then I'm taking her back."

Enid grinned at this. That meant they could have her for at least a few hours. She replied brightly:

"Thank you, Principal Weems! She'll have a great time with us!" 

Weems smiled and said softly:

"I'm counting on it."

She waved a hand in dismissal, watching as the door shut behind her students and her ward. 

Weems sighed as she took in the full extent of the damage around her office. All her books had been pulled from the bookshelves, numerous cushions had been shredded and all the lamps in the room had been hurled onto the floor. 

At least she would not be cleaning everything on her own. Thankfully, Red had possessed a small amount of self-preservation and left the Principal's desk alone. Weems knew she would have hit the roof if the hatchling had dared to tamper with school documents or her laptop. 

Leaving the majority of the mess where it was, Weems removed any broken glass from broken light bulbs and placed the fallen lamps upright. 

As the clock signalled the hour of curfew, Weems headed to Ophelia Hall to collect her ward. 

Knocking softly on the door of Wednesday and Enid's dorm room, Weems went in at Enid's hushed invitation to enter. 

The sight that met her eyes caused a smile to slip across her face. 

Red was draped limply against Wednesday's chest in a very deep sleep, a rare edition of Lord of the Rings open on the bed. Her claws were digging into Wednesday's arms, causing Weems to frown as she saw small spots of blood dotting the skin.

Wednesday was entirely unconcerned, detaching the hatchling from her arms as she passed her up to Weems. 

Cradling her ward against her chest, Weems pointed to the scratches on Wednesday's arms and said sternly:

"You will be cleaning and disinfecting those arms, Miss Addams. There's no telling what is on Red's claws. Much of the time I have no idea what she's up to."

Wednesday frowned, opening her mouth to argue. Weems said softly and dangerously:

"I can always get the school nurse to administer an injection instead…"

Wednesday replied reluctantly:

"Very well, I'll take care of my arms myself. I still consider it a waste of time, where is the excitement unless you are risking dangerous bacteria entering your bloodstream?" 

Well used to such outlandish statements from her roommate, Enid merely snorted as she seized the book on the bed to put it away. 

Weems barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes, as she absentmindedly stroked Red's hair. She was used to far more dramatic statements from Morticia Addams, Wednesday was restrained in comparison. 

Smiling at Wednesday and Enid, she thanked them for looking after her ward and departed Ophelia Hall. 

As she made her way back to her private rooms, cradling the sleeping hatchling, Weems determined to spent some more time with her. Hopefully she would be able to teach Red not to resort to violence and destruction as a first reaction.

winterfireblond and lilfartbox1 another Gwen fic for you

#principal weems

[touyubesposts]

How do you think Markiplier's egos and Sanders Sides would interact with one another?

I am so glad you asked! (This is gonna be long)

For context, I imagine the reason they all met was some time-warp space fuckery, and right now the sides only chance at survival is kinda hanging out with the egos until something can get sorted.

As a whole, everything is relatively peaceful. Is there Drama? Of course. But nothing too terrible. Maybe a physical altercation on a bad day, but nothing that would get the sides thrown out.

Let's get the obvious out of the way: Remus and Wilford would hang out. Remus would be fascinated by how off the walls Wilford could get and Wilford wouldn’t think twice about Remus’s insane sentinces. He’s like that Marge meme of ‘I just think he’s neat!’ Remus doesn’t really care about the others, but he loves asking Google fucked-up questions because he’ll just answer. No hesitation. And Remus thinks that's hilarious. Also him and Heehoo have to be kept in separate rooms after the incident.

Patton and Stan would be IMMEDIATE FRIENDS. I’m talking first day of knowing each other, Patton has already made friendship bracelets, Stan makes sure Patton is taking care of himself, and they have a ‘dad club’ that consists of only them two. And they match! They have basically adopted the others as their own, even Patton sometimes able to help Dark. The only person he hasn’t ‘officially’ adopted is Yancy. Patton found out Yancy was a self-made orphan and decided ‘he’s just, like, a friend’ because Patton values his life. (But if we're getting into uncanon egos, Patton basically adopted Erek Derekson and Hates Derek Derekson. Like I fully believe if you put this two face-to-face, they would fight. Patton deserves to go ape-shit as a treat :) )

Logan doesn’t necessarily like Google, but out of all the others, he tolerates Google the most. They pretty much work together to try and get things figured out for everyone, and their relationship is strictly work colleagues. Until Logan found out Google also really likes space. Now he’s intrigued. Another ego that intrigues him are The Jims. Its because he’s heard of a side splitting, but not infinitely splitting. Now he’s begun keeping a tiny notebook on everything he’s learned about the others.

Roman is the most active when it comes to hanging out with the other egos. Him and Yancy definitely bond over their love of musicals and their (chosen) family. For Illinois, however, I feel like they’re either partners or rivals, no in-between. If they’re partners, total bond over their love of adventure and constant compliments. If rivals, very catty behavior from both of them about how self-absorbed the other is. Roman and Dark have a mutual hatred for each other. Roman thinks Dark is the Villain while Dark hates any idea of a hero after Actor. Also Roman found out Dark was twins that re-merged and gained a new fear. And finally, Actor manipulates the shit out of Roman, constantly planting ideas of how similar they are and talking about how everyone else abandoned them so he should stay vigilant.

Janus probably talks to the others the least, keeping his distance and watching from afar. However, he does enjoy learning about the others through the sides that talk to him. Whether it's frustrations or compliments, he takes a mental note of it all. The only person he doesn’t know about at all is Actor, and Roman would love to keep it that way. Janus also loves knocking the more egotistical egos down a peg with off-handed comments. Luckily, that hasn't wound up in anything bad. And while he does do this, he would protect them if it came down to it. While he doesn’t like them, others do. And they all have a use.

Virgil, surprisingly enough, found his way near Dark. I think Dark realizes Virgil’s ‘potential’ and keeps him nearby because if anyone were to stop Virgil, it would be Dark. And if anyone were to help Dark, it would be Virgil. (You know Virgil’s voice thing when he gets anxious? Yeah, I’m gonna be the first to assume it doesn’t stop there.) Virgil over time realizes Dark is a lot like Logan and Janus, meaning he's keeps to himself a lot and attempts to hide his emotions a lot. But because Virgil is near Dark, he’s gotten to know all the others (as well as Dark) very well. Virgil nearly sprinted towards Logan once he found out Heehoo had a scientific name. Also Virgil was the first Side to find out about Dark and Wilford’s Past, which was shocking for him because some of the other egos don’t know his past.

So that's my head canons, feel free to tell me your own, and I hope you have a good day!

#thomas sanders #sander sides #markiplier #sanders sides #patton sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #markiplier egos #iplier egos #long post #logan sanders #janus sanders #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #actor mark #ahwm illinois #ahwm yancy #googleplier

[cynicalmusings]

i don't even go here but your brainrot post gave me some ideas

ambiguous, implied romantic, relationship, gender neutral, adepti reader. warning for: major character death, severe ptsd/depression, vivid descriptions of ptsd attacks, self harm, mentions of reincarnation, that erosion thing adepti do, inexcusably long, not proofread.

he remembers, he always does. xiao has always had a good memory. and to someone like him, with a past like his, this is a curse.

they mock him- mirages of the past, the whispering screams of the tortured and the damned, the wavering, spectral, haunting voices of his friends, even you, a voice so soft, so sweet, so undeserving of the rot that he brings, that it makes him sick. even his own voice, hoarse and broken, both pleading and condemning, the hanged man and the executioner. they claw up from deep in his gut, tearing through his lungs, withering his very bone; twisting words and memories into something awful, rotting every happy moment, corroding his very psyche as they taunt, whisper, mock- every small detail, every little thing, and endless cycle of starving and gorging on the urges. 

they plant noxious seeds into the space between ligament and muscle, so that later, they may sprout, and tear through his flesh as they wrap slowly around his throat. in these moments, he wishes they would suffocate him just a little more, and maybe then his misery would end, but it never does. perhaps, death is too good for a sinner like him. perhaps, he is meant to carry this punishment for the rest of eternity.

no one has hurt xiao more than himself, no one knows how best to torment him, than him. and it is evident in every sleepless night, every unwelcome recollection, every time his head feels as if it’s splitting with the sheer weight of the amount of ghosts living there, every time he carves his nails into his own skin, because perhaps if the physical pain can surpass the mental… but no, it never does. 

in these quiet moments, you liked to sing to him. and it helped more than he would like to admit. (even so, in small hours of the night, in vulnerable moments, xiao confesses to you, in almost silent whispers, how much you mean to him.) the urge to push you away was strong, but in moments like these, xiao is weaker than he likes to think. especially when its you. when your voice slices through the haze of delirious pain, soothes his wounds, lets him fall apart in your hands and have those same hands lovingly, meticulously, put him back together. you pretend you cannot see the way his lip trembles, the way his eyebrows cinch together and the way his breath shudders, and his lashes flutter. as the gentle moonlight gives away the shine of tears in his eyes, you tell him he’s beautiful, even in moments like these, and it breaks him in the most painfully soft way.

xiao remembers, when you both were young. all those years ago, when you dug your way into his heart, and you have never left since. when you would lie in the tall grasses of the hills of a budding liyue, side by side, just like you do now, holding one another. even as the ink stained blood soaks into his clothes, into the mud. even as your heartbeat flutters into silence, as you grow cold, stiff. even immortals cannot live forever. every living thing must suffer the same fate. xiao knows this more than anyone. but it does not make it any less painful. time and time again, he has had to watch everyone he has cared about leave where he cannot follow. and when the last person that means anything to him walks through that door, xiao can do nothing more but wait to join you.

in a moment like this, he can think of nothing else, but to sing. so that, perhaps, he might be able to return the favor. his voice is hoarse, pleading, wavering as he chokes down the sobs.

please forgive him, please. xiao knows you would, and that only makes him cry harder. even if it was his fault, his karma, his spear in your side, you would forgive him.

xiao has loved you for hundreds of years. he will love you for a hundred years more. and he loves you now, as much as he can, even as you erode away in his arms. even when he himself can feel his own heartbeat ebbing away. even when the sharp pain dissolves into a dull ache, and when someone, who he cannot recognize through the haze comes to drag him away from your body. 

xiao will love you across every lifetime. if you would do him the honor of letting him fall for you all over again. in a place where, maybe, you could live that dream of a peaceful life… with him. 

10 out of fucking 10 what the actual fuck you legend

this was so beautifully written and the angst hits in just the right spots… well done; seriously. that was really good. thank you for sending this.

#sent: seajellyx #r answers #xiao x reader #it deserves to be on the main x reader tag what can i say

[drewsaturday]

slightly mean little fandom rant that may not be very coherent because i am admittedly in a state of disorientation but like. anon is off so it's not like i'll have to experience consequences if i misspeak.

i hate being in that weird space of not having any new fandoms that have good communities, but any newer communities for my older fandoms are just insufferable to me because... we've already had these exact conversations about 7.2 times each by now minimum, whether it's discourse-related or just a silly headcanon, and it causes the only contributions i can actually make to be combative because i'm tired and these lengthy conversations are unnecessary to have for Me to come to the Right Conclusions.

and then i become insufferable as a result because i am just as annoyed by everyone else's earlier stage of fandom development, which they can't help, as they probably are at me and my comparatively elder fan jadedness because the repetitiveness of these experiences just is not hitting in the ways i need my fandom experiences to hit rn, where i'd ideally get to grow with people on similar levels as me?

it's like you guys are in kindergarten and i am a college freshman looking to advance the stuff i've already spent years building, so it would be mean of me to say "you are all so stupid" instead of appreciating your new enthusiasm at the world and its possibilities but god. we are not the same. and finding people who are the same, at least for those older fandoms, is a rough time because the amount of people who stick with a thing as long as you have is going to dwindle year after year if you've even had a slightly comparable starting point in the first place.

it would just be easier if i could join new communities for shows as they drop but... i'm either not into anything popular enough to have other fans at all in fanon environments, they are TOO popular and so i can't really connect to anyone, or binge watch culture makes community impossible to form at all... OR i am the annoying new fan that is as insufferable as the older fans and there are no other new fans around to match that energy either.

obviously the solution really is just dragging pre-existing friends into things as much as you can but... sometimes i just miss the lightning in a bottle novelty of being able to join a space at its beginning where everyone is about at that same level looking to hang out with other fans and make friends for a few years until you all exhaust that magic and hope you find another lucky place to plant some roots.

#txt #i am grateful i do have some friends and friend groups from older fandoms that have withstood time or that we just are on the same level #but like . i still have so many little gaps in my heart from places that became inactive or friends that i fell out of touch with etc that #i just. am not able to bring anything new into because i am reliant on the internet for my social experiences tm #and sadlyyyyyyy i'm just not matching with anywhere that has potential friends 2 adopt #maybe i need to try non-fandom communities but that means i need to develop new hobbies and i don't have time rip #actually. i am Realizing. in many cases the Perfect Communities i have found #i ended up being the one to start which y'knowww comes with bias #but i kinda forgot that if something isn't out there i used to have the time to just do it myself #and in recent cases where i've realized there's an absence of community for things i like #if no one else has done it i know i can't shoulder that responsibility rn so nothing happens #obvs it has not always been me - there have been a few started by other ppl too #it's just something thattt i can't do anything about rn but is a helpful littel realization i suppose

[stoned-eren]

modern!erwin headcanons

he works as a professor in a community college. teaches history. he wants to teach a class in a university but hasn’t had the best luck. he’s still happy with his job though, loves all his students and wants the best for them.

paces a lot when he gives lectures, or when he’s giving hange a stern talking to. basically, anytime he starts talking a lot and very passionately, he’ll have a little pace going on.

everyone who knows him knows him as the “motivation guy”. whenever someone is feeling down, erwin is there to bring their confidence up with his kind and uplifting words. can spit out an eloquent 10-minute monologue on a whim about anything and everything. erwin is just that good at articulating himself.

is always busy. it’s hard to make plans with him since he’s always caught up in work or personal affairs. though when you are able to see him, he devotes 100% of his energy and time to you.

carries around a mini notebook where he jots down things that come to mind. its incredibly cryptic and no one can seem to understand what’s written down. (no one except erwin)

stays up late most nights working, like grading paperwork or revising his lectures. desperately wants to sleep all the time but just never has the time for it. lives off of coffee

drives a truck or some other large car. doesn’t even use his car for the space, just has it “just in case”. everyone (except eren. eren isn't allowed) ends up borrowing his car to move stuff back and forth.

has a very fatherly/mentor-like bond with armin. armin was his student at first, and used to visit very often after class, full of questions. they shortly began a friendship due to having the same interests and the back and forth conversations they shared. armin stood out to erwin due to how studious and intelligent he was. their relationship is like the “are ya winning son” meme (the wholesome version)

speaking of wholesome, erwin is the most wholesome, most honorable man you’ve ever met. has such pure intentions, he's a very transparent person. he would never lie, would never cheat, would never look at you in a gawking sort of way. (he’s very soft with his gaze) sees value in everything and everyone. he’s just very wholesome

doesn’t really understand sexual jokes. it takes him a minute or two to even process when someone makes an innuendo. and by then he’s all red in the face, shocked.

doesn't really understand memes either. if he does, he's a little late on the joke. by the time he gets the joke, everyone has moved on from it.

can be overly trusting at times. it’s not that he’s oblivious, he just tends to see more positivity in people which makes him overlook any potential red flags. he has almost gotten scammed by falling for a fraudulent phone call. he was on the phone, giving away his phone number when luckily levi happened to be swinging by and was able to end the call before erwin gave away too much information.

likes very obscure things. either they’re things that no one has heard of, or he has rather unpopular opinions. for example, he thinks that shrek 3 was a good movie. he’s never incessant about his opinions though. he simply says, “yeah! i thought (insert bad thing here) was great!” which causes an uproar of “WHAT?!!?”

he loves to garden. he grows fruits and vegetables in his backyard. he uses the fruits and veggies to feed his horse (and himself). his favorite plant he has is the pomegranate tree he’s been growing for several years now.

loves stars and the constellations. can point to any cluster of stars in the sky and recognize what constellation it is. he gives you a quick little history lesson with each new constellation he shows you. before you met erwin, you only recognized the big and little diper. but he opened your eyes to the wonders of the stars and the meaning and importance behind each constellation.

#hope this is accurate #!!! #.txt #attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #erwin #erwin smith #erwin attack on titan #headcanon #headcanons #writing.exe

[tricitymonsters]

Do you have any notes/ fun facts on Akello's greenhouse 💚 i just think it's neat uwu

I DO

A lot of solar punk vibes were crucial when I was first kinda archetyping Akello's character and I knew I wanted him to have a fair amount of practical skills to match his academic background

Unlike Mori and Amir, Akello approached his new demon form very tentatively and wanted to be able to experiment safely and keep meticulous records. Basically as soon as he figured out he could control things on a cellular level he knew working with plants would be the easiest way to do this.

And it would be easy to stay under not only the Enforcers' radar but also keep from alerting neighbors, etc.

At first he tried to grow his experimental plants inside but quickly ran out of space and the inconsistencies in the climate caused some issues.

While he wanted to stay stealthy about it, Akello's landlord DOES know about the greenhouse. Akello cut some kinda deal with him on the downlow for roof access with no questions asked. What the terms are is still secret tho!

The greenhouse is built almost entirely out of recycled/scavenged materials like corrugated plastic sheets, old pallets, ducts and some venting stolen from Home Depot, etc.

True, its not much to look at but Akello still has meticulous build notes and sketches and with proper time and planning, could 100% build a very aesthetically pleasing version. Speed and efficiency are his top priorities for the rooftop greenhouse that currently exists.

It has a water system made with gutters, tanks, some lawn irrigation parts, and recycled jugs/2L bottles so most of the plants inside are self irrigated with rainwater via gravity drips. Its small and only stores a few gallons but for this purpose it works fine. (Akello has notes for building 2 1k Liter tanks with electric valves and using an arduino + sensor system to pump)

Currently Akello feeds water in from his unit when he needs more, he's got a hose constantly hanging out one of his windows (not on the street facing side, lol)

Most of the potting beds are tiered for space efficiency

Lots of cinderblocks, tires, and mismatched framed windows went into the general constructions. It definitely kind of looks like a weird DIY project.

He's got plant beds outside of it too (stuff that's hardier to climate variations) so the whole rooftop kind of looks like a nursery showspace at this point, though it remains a LITTLE disorganized.

#Thank you for asking! #akello

[doonarose]

Okay, but hear me out. Crowley denies himself enjoyment because he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. More than that, it doesn’t even occur to him to seek it out because he fell and being fallen means life is shit and you don’t get good things. For almost forever, any good thing came with a big caveat: job satisfaction was nice but he was going evil, drinking copious amounts of alcohol was nice but he was drinking copious amounts of alcohol, he liked his plants but he was terrorizing them and I don’t think he actually liked that bit. Any tiny sliver of contentment comes with inordinate risk and cost, not to himself because I don’t think he gives two shits about himself, but to Aziraphale which is a non-negotiable.

For all his bluster, he doesn’t think he deserves anything other than the very least and littlest things and he only deserves those because he needs them. And I think he’s a bit shocked that he needs Aziraphale to such an extent that he actually does have him. Not in the correct, full, right, meaningly way. But in the ‘oh, there he is, still in the bookshop, willing to put up with me hanging around’ type way. And this has been the status quo for the years since the world didn’t end. Of course, Crowley didn’t ask for more than what he needed – like hey, let’s move in and have proper conversations, perhaps laugh together more than once every few months, and also snuggle and hold hands and also, maybe, much, much more. If he stops and thinks about it he would probably be able to comprehend that he does want those things, but he doesn’t need them or deserve them so he won’t get them.

(Aziraphale, on the other hand, I think is actually just clueless. He has this very stuck way of seeing things as they are and it has not occurred to him that he could change them and be happier. Actually, untangling Aziraphale might be harder for me and less rewarding… but yes, I think until Crowley spells a potential out to him, he doesn’t see potentials just the static state of the universe around him and it’s within his nature to be very happy with that and take his enjoyment where he can find it. Actually, that makes perfect sense now that I’m typing it because of the potential to enjoy some delicious meat was always there and it took Crowley spelling it out to get him to try and then the state of his universe changed (yum I like delicious thing) and he existed with the potential realized. (Yes, yes, I see you all with the parallels with the need for a good snog and other pleasures of the flesh theorizing and I like it.))

Anyway, Crowley’s existence isn’t good or nice, but it’s enough because it has to be, and actually, he’s amazed he’s getting this much. I bet he feels guilty when he wonders ‘what’s the point’ because he’s got this constant war of his life being doom and gloom and unlucky (he fell) and also, actually, very lucky (he got this angel, someone and something he doesn’t deserve, popping in and out of his life for the last six thousand years). All I’m saying is getting Crowley into a space to experience pleasure and contentment in things isn’t that tricky because we see glimpses of it, but getting him into a space to take pleasure, to seek out an improved existence, is very much at odds with who he is. I haven’t decided if I think he got there in episode 6, he clearly got very close before it all went up in flames (he won’t be doing that again anytime soon). Same as whether Aziraphale actually saw the potential and was ready to shift his reality to accommodate it (before Metadick painted him a more convincing? important? realistic? potential and diverted him. Either way it doesn’t matter because both their deficiencies are consequences of underlying trauma and their utter inability to talk to each other properly, but both of which need to be dealt with before they can start fully taking pleasure in each other. And that will take a lot.

#good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 headcanon #headcanon #thinky thoughts #in which i had 20 minutes between meetings #which is not enough for fic #but my fingertips were itchy #also this sets up the giving/taking/asking for kisses warpath im on nicely #also what happens when crowley actually tries asking/taking #off to my meeting

[nei-ning]

Just woke up from a dream where I was a demon. I didn't see myself but I knew I was male, very human looking with light brown skin color. I only had fangs and horns + pointy ears and long tail.

I was searching for myself! I was with group of other people, arriving to this old Finnish country mansion, made of wood. It rested on a little hill right at the sea shore. As others remained indoors, I went outside through open window. At the shore was big and tall wooden pole so I jumped to squat on it, looking all around at the sea, looking for Nei. I think I had some kind of ability to see heck far since, at my right, I saw thick old forest with a line of people or some creatures, all covered with black hooded capes with torches, who were coming towards us in line, making horrible loud noises.

I jumped down from the pole, rushed back to the house calmly, opened the same window what I'd used to get out and jumped to hang on it with crossed arms on the window's lower part. To my right was a bed with a naked couple on it, staring at me. Next to them on left was 2-4 people more, naked as well. There was a window behind them and next to the window, on the left from my point of view, was old ancient Chinese drawer. Then, to my very left, was open doorway to another room. This room already was fully, but simply, decorated with old Chinese ancients stuffs.

I sighed at the people in my mind, knowing they had been having sex and that a night had passed already even that I was outside maybe 10 seconds, weather remaining the same. Out loud I growled at them slightly, demanding: "Where is Nei?" (I used this name even in the dream instead of my real name). They didn't answer right away so I tried to scream that question out, it turning out to be horrible demonic scream with high voice mixed with weird words.

Now one pointed towards the open door so I climbed inside, telling them to clean the place spotless, making everything be exactly the same way how they were when we came there. I headed in next room which, too, was old room. This room looked more like old British fireplace room with old black fireplace, big reddish carpet, reddish ancient wooden table in the middle, big curvy windows, red curtains, old bookshelves and so on.

To the people in this room I also told to clean the place spotless. However, there was big indoor plant which had fallen over, dirt spreading on the carpet and the plant itself was broken and partly eaten. I was shocked! I had no idea how those people had done that or how they would fix it!

I returned back on searching myself, finding white little hallway, very weird shaped, which had heck weird tiny ladders and other climbing things hanging from the ceiling and wall. They went to attict and I knew Nei would be there - or so I'd been told. I started to climb there, thinking how much in good shape I was! Climbing was easy but still nicely challenging. If I would had been myself, I wouldn't had been able to climb at all!

I came to this small, well kept darkish brown attict. It was heck tiny space with small wall which separated the room in two (left and right). On the left side was nothing but on the right side, behind the wall, I saw part of mattress, bed sheets etc. I had to crawl on all fours to get there, my heart filling with unspeakable warmth and hope as I thought Nei's name once. I wanted to see her, find her and make love with her. Show her how much I love her but... She wasn't there. I slowly turned sad, starting to feel slightly hollow.

I don't know what would had happened next if 2 men wouldn't had make a noise downstairs, luring me out. I watched them carry this big rolled fabric on their shoulders, asking what they were doing. They just happily and with hurry announced it was filled with cowberries. I had NO idea what the heck they were doing - or where they got those berries - but at the same time I, kind of, knew it was for protection against those black things which were coming to our way.

Sadly I never finished the dream since I suddenly just woke up. Damn.

#Text #Dream #Neis dream #Demon #Last night in a dream I found young man hugging him half naked #Now half naked demon me was looking for me #Loving me already #Like... What's going on?! #I like these dreams #But they make me think that am I looking for my future husband while he's looking for me too? #19.12.2023