#and then there were the developed questions

[yndrgrl]

your boyfriend, katsuki bakugo, loves you dearly, but you're scared you'll never be deserving of him

cute lil dabble. lowkey songfic. fem! reader. angst to comfort. fluff. established relationship. any au. overthinking! reader.

warnings: there are none :D

a/n: picture a "too sweet" by hozier girl x "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys boy relationship !

-

katsuki is always characterized as hostile yet calculating, a man who knows exactly what he wants. he's destined to be the top of the food chain, everyone knows it. he's powerful man with a deadly gorgeous face, his fangirls would describe.

& in comes you. plain old you.

you honestly have no idea what katsuki sees in you. like, if you're digging deep in yourself, maybe he likes your for your dark, crude sense of humor that always seems to make him belly laugh.

it's said that he's an early bird. he's awake before you every single day, asleep & sound by 8:30-- on the weekends, he'll push it to 10:00. before you've said your first words of the day, he's already made his side of the bed, made & ate breakfast, put away the laundry, & is off to his morning run after his morning workout. his good habits he's developed early in life has benefited him in every way.

he never procrastinated on chores, his paper work is flawless, & you could learn a thing or two from his time management skills. he's always making time for spontaneous dates you wanna go on, festivals you wanna visit, & he makes sure that the pantry is stacked with your favorite snacks. any of your interests are his interests, even if he doesn't fully understand it.

when it comes to katsuki, you ought to wonder if he ever wants to experience something different from his strict, repetitive lifestyle. you sometimes feel stupid for wanting more out; you want to travel somewhere far away, you want to go out clubbing with a bunch of strangers, you want to move to the country side & live in a cottage. katsuki always reels in your dreams, encouraging you but also reminding you that you need to stay consistent to achieve them. you're jealous with how fast he can accept reality.

"babe? you listening?" katsuki questioned, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blinked a couple of times then nodded almost-too enthusiastically. he let out a little chuckle & stroked your cheek with his thumb. "what're you thinking about?"

"nothing, i'm sorry," you sighed with your hands in your lap. you both were on the couch, doing your own thing. he was on his phone, & you were supposed to be doing some work on your laptop, but you found yourself spacing out again.

"don't apologize. i'm just curious about what's going on in that pretty, little head of yours," he told you before he took your hand & pressed his lips against your knuckles. you thought to yourself, i'm not good enough for this man.

you debated whether or not to tell the truth. on one side, he has been your devoted boyfriend for years now, but on the other, he could just be asking out of curtesy. like, what if he actually does not care at all- "(y/n)? talk to me. i know you have something you wanna say," katsuki commented, scooting closer to you. he set the pillow that you placed your laptop on the coffee table so he could get your undivided attention. he caressed your thigh to help ground you.

you stayed silent for a moment, & he waited patiently. you swallowed, your eyes darted from his piercing red ones to the floor to his hands. finally, you said, "you're too sweet for me." he laughed & laughed, & you couldn't help but crack a smile. "what? what's so funny?" you pouted.

"sorry for laughing, princess. it's just no one ever calls me sweet. like, ever," admitted katsuki as he settled down from his fit of laughter. what he said was true though, he didn't have a problem with it. he was not sweet at all, he was rough around the edges & egotistical with the skills to back him up. he only ever thinks about himself & you. "but what makes you say that, hm?"

"well, for one, you always treat me out & take me anywhere i want. we never go where you wanna go," you pointed out, jabbing your finger in his toned chest playfully.

"that doesn't make me sweet. i have the money, & i don't fuckin' care about where we go to eat."

you chose to ignore him, rolling your eyes at him because that was his excuse every time. "two, you're literally in the prime of your life, & you choose to go to sleep at 8:30? how do you sleep so well?"

"(y/n), what is this really about?" he questioned. katsuki brushed your hair away from your face, tucking the silky strands behind your ear. "& don't lie to me, i know you."

"ugh, fineee," you groaned as you threw your head back. maybe it was for comedic effect, or to gather your thoughts & regulate the tears that started to well in your eyes. "do you think i'm like, worthy of you?"

"worthy of me?"

"yeah, do you think i'm good enough for you?" you rephrased, pulling your hands away from him to rub your upper arm. it's embarrassing to admit something, it's scary too. what if, once you point it out, he'll agree & leave you?

"'course i do! i'm the best around & i got the best fuckin' girl, why are you thinking this shit?" katsuki exclaimed, his passion that you wish you had seeping through to his tone. a moment of thick silence followed, you took a deep breath. you suck at emotions.

"you're too good for me, okay! you're so much stronger than everyone, & if that wasn't enough, you're insanely smart! i'm just... here. average at best. people praise you like the morning after an eternity of darkness. you're the rain after a heatwave. everything works out for you, & i'm just the one holding you back from even better things-"

"babe, you're not holding me back or whatever. you've never held me back," he stated like it was a fact, but you felt as though he was just saying that to calm you down. it angered you, & you were ashamed that you were angry because it wasn't even directed at him, it was directed at the fact you felt unworthy.

"no, you don't get it! i aim low because it's realistic for me, i can't afford to aim for anything else because i'm destined to fail. you, on the other hand... you have so much potential. don't you get embarrassed about having a girlfriend like me?"

"no." he answered so quickly, like it was rehearsed, like he knew what you were going to say. "i've never felt embarrassed of you ever. you're so fuckin' dense, you know that?"

you paused just to stare at him. katsuki sure had a way with comforting people. even after years of being a hero, he never learned how to traditionally comfort people. tough love, everyone would call it. but with you, he forced himself to be tender because you deserve treatment no one else gets from him.

there were so many things he wanted to say to you. don't you realize what you do for him? god, katsuki would go mad living without you now that he knows what life is like with you, his missing rib. the two of you are meant to be, you're two sides of the same coin. so what if he's as bright as the morning? you were his darling night, the very universe was visible through your eyes.

"you must be dense if you really thing you're just average. would i go for an average girl?"

"i mean-"

"no, the answer is no. you're deserving of love, my love. everything you've accomplished, everything you've overcome, you're just diminishing it because what? you think you're dumb or something? you- you..." you're the reason my world goes round, you are so talented, he was so desperate to shout these praises at you.

he was never one for romantic gestures through words. if he did, he would've been the best damn poet in the game. "i am yours."

it was such a simple sentence, yet it shook you to the core. you stared into his lively, crimson eyes. the look he gave you in return made your breath hitch; he was so deeply devoted to you, as deep as the pacific ocean.

you leaned in, capturing him in a kiss. tears rolled down your cheeks, your despair melting away. you felt like the two of you were kids again, sharing your first kiss. how could you doubt a man who so clearly, who so desperately, loves every bit of you.

#anime and manga #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #x reader #bakugou drabble #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo x reader #bnha katsuki bakugou #bakugo fluff #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #mha headcanons

[barcaatthemoon]

most likely to || lucy bronze x reader ||

you and lucy do a couples' interview for the media team.

media days had always been some of your favorites. it was generally a lighter training for you, unless they wanted some footage that day. today was a special media day, something that jona had asked you about after you and lucy came forward with your relationship. it had been a bit of a process for you to convince lucy to do the interview with you, but you knew that she was starting to get excited as the day drew closer throughout the week.

"ready to go?" lucy asked as she stood in front of your cubby. the interview had been arranged for post-practice, but you doubted that they had taken into account how long it took you in the shower. lucy had been ready for at least 20 minutes, not that she could ever mind waiting for you.

"tie my shoes for me?" you asked, since lucy was already in front of you. she rolled her eyes at your request, but knelt down to do it anyway. you knew that the eye roll was just because your teammates were around. lucy generally did all sorts of little things for you throughout the day, claiming that she always wanted you to feel like a true royal. "thank you, luce."

"you know, actions speak louder than words," lucy said. you didn't even have to wait for her to tap her cheek before you were leaning in to give her a kiss. lucy was absolutely beaming as she stood up completely, a light pink blush on her cheeks now.

"wait!" you called out as lucy started to move. you stood up and pressed a kiss to her other cheek. "you did both shoes."

"i double knotted both shoes, actually." you put your arm around the back of lucy's neck and pressed a kiss to her lips this time. behind the two of you, jana was gagging while pina and patri pretended to make out. it felt sort of wild that at the beginning of the season, you had been in their group making fun of the other couples on the team before lucy asked you out.

"one day maybe you'll all get girlfriends too and know what it's like for someone other than your mothers to love you," lucy teased. you swatted at her arm as you mumbled for her to be nice. pina and jana both grumbled as they sat back, but patri started to launch into a full blown rant about how she was more than happy being the "barcelona stallion" and sleeping around for the time being.

"do you see what you've started?" you asked, but lucy showed absolutely no remorse. she just grabbed your hand and walked you out of the locker room to get properly ready for the interview.

…

"alright, we're just going to play a simple game of 'most likely to' today. i'll ask a question, and you just point to whoever it most likely to do that thing." both you and lucy nodded, having a good understanding of the game. "first question, who is most likely to accidentally sleep in?"

"pssh, this is an easy one," lucy said as she pointed at you. admittedly, you had overslept quite a few times over the course of the season, resulting in both you and lucy being late to training. lucy was a lot worse at getting you up than alexia had been, the other woman often resorting to literally dragging you out of bed in your first senior season at barcelona.

"hey, my brain needs the sleep. it's still developing!" you tried to argue. lucy just laughed, knowing that you usually overslept because you stayed up way too late the night before. although, she did know that you could sleep absolutely anywhere, which she was slightly jealous of.

"who is most likely to burn dinner?" this time, your hand shot straight over to lucy. you had several legitimate examples of her doing this while trying to make sense of a spanish recipe. it was less that she was a bad cook and more that lucy was too stubborn to ask you for a translation.

"it was one time," lucy grumbled. you smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, which had her swatting you away from her with a pout.

"who is most likely to get a little too wild on a night out?" this question was a plant and you knew it. someone had to have told them to put this in to embarrass you, probably patri or mapi. they had been the two who had fed you shot after shot on a yacht just a few months ago, resulting in a unique combination of seasickness and drunken puking.

"life of the party this one," lucy teased. she reached over to pinch at your cheeks, earning herself a sharp slap to the knee. "and a bit mean. i don't know how i put up with her."

"whatever," you huffed as you crossed your arms.

"who is most likely to have an extra cheat day?"

"she actually has more in her meal plan than me," lucy answered. you couldn't argue with her there, thankful for the fact that you burned through calories more due to your extra strength training. jona and the other coaches had agreed to let you bulk up a bit, and it was definitely paying off on the field.

"i mean, look at these muscles." you flexed for the camera, knowing that it would end up in endless thirst edits later on. you reached for the bottom of your shirt, but lucy stopped you. she didn't mind you being a bit goofy, but she tended to get jealous when you actively showed off.

"who is most likely to get a little hotheaded?" your hand shot over to point at lucy, who had definitely snapped at some of your friends and teammates for getting a little too close to you. lucy shrank back in her seat, embarrassed from being called out.

"i can't help it. look at her!" lucy shouted as she threw her arms up.

"who is most likely to be considered whipped?"

"oh without a doubt lucy."

"(y/n)." both you and lucy looked at each other for a couple of moments before lucy recanted her answer. "from the outside, it may look like i do a lot for her, so maybe it is me."

"alright ladies, we are almost finished. just one more question, who is most likely to be the little spoon?" this time, you knew exactly who had asked this question. surprisingly, it wasn't any of your friends, but rather alexia. she had walked into your bedroom to wake you up for training only to find lucy bronze fast asleep in your arms while you watched her. lucy claimed to have not felt good, but alexia knew better.

"someone's taking the piss out of me with these questions," lucy grumbled as both of your hands pointed towards her. "in my defense, sometimes i just turn away because she clings worse than a koala. she just kind of grabs at my back."

"that's almost as good as the excuse you gave alexia," you laughed. the production team called cut on the video, allowing for you and lucy to finally go home. "wow, if i knew that it was that easy for you to admit that you were whipped, i would have just asked to do one of those earlier."

"people didn't know about us earlier," lucy muttered as she pressed a kiss to your lips.

"not officially, but we were the worst kept secret in the league. you did feel me up on the pitch the first game after we got together," you reminded her. lucy huffed as she rolled her eyes, knowing that wasn't the entire truth. you were giving out hugs to everybody, and lucy's hand had simply slipped a little when you jumped into her arms.

…

you knew immediately the day that the video dropped. the locker room was quiet, but not in a focused way. it was like they were waiting for someone, and once you and lucy were both sitting in there, chaos broke. cata was the first one to sit next to you, putting her arm around your shoulders as she pulled you tightly into her side.

"careful, lucy might get mad. she's a bit of a hothead." if those words had come out of anybody's mouth other than vicky's, lucy would have flipped a little. the fact that it came from the kid's mouth meant that an outburst was narrowly avoided.

"she doesn't seem very clingy to me. are you sure that you don't just like being the little spoon bronzey?" cata asked as she tried to get you to hug her back.

"i think that's enough," lucy said sharply. she walked over and tugged you out of cata's arms. she wrapped her arms around your waist and pressed her face against the side of your neck. "i won't lay a finger on her, but i'll kick your ass coll."

"lucy," you warned. she huffed from behind you and tried to find something to distract herself with. unfortunately for you, the team was intent on riling lucy up for the rest of the practice. it was to the point where you weren't sure that she'd be happy with you when you got home. the interview had been your idea in the first place.

"that lot is due for an ass kicking," lucy groaned and grumbled. you hadn't seen her so grumpy in a long time. she flopped back against the couch and let her head fall back as she closed her eyes. you didn't notice the way that she was waiting for you to come crawl into her lap, not until she cleared her throat. "are you coming over here or not?"

"you want me to sit by you?" you asked her.

"no, i want you on my lap. i want to hold you for a little while, please." lucy pouted up at you. your lips curled up as a wide grin broke out onto your face. you kicked your shoes off and scrambled into lucy's lap, content to let her hold you. you didn't like being the little spoon, but you absolutely loved to curl into your girlfriend's lap at the end of a long practice. "that's better, isn't it?"

"much. te amo, lucy," you mumbled as you pulled her in for a kiss. lucy surprised you by keeping the kiss innocent. she broke it after a few seconds to press her forehead against yours.

"te amo, lovely." lucy brushed her hand through your hair, smirking to herself as you relaxed against her. she may be whipped by everybody else's standards, but you absolutely melted any time that lucy touched you. it was a true testament to just how much you loved her.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader

[requinoesis]

how do the sharks in your universe deal with parasites like ommatokoita and copepods?

Oh, that's a very specific question hehe

Well, they developed arms, so naturally they got rid of the parasites with their bare hands. The parasites developed new tactics like attaching themselves to parts of the body that the sharkfolk probably couldn't reach. But then a sense of community blossomed, so they got rid of each other's parasites until they finally invented natural repellents to apply to their skin.

As they adapted to the surface of the sea, they never came into contact with these parasites again, but they found other problems to deal with on the surface, mainly related to fungi ~

In relation to the Ommatokoita, the civilization who have Greenland Sharks as their original ancestors, known as "Longevians", probably had a cultural and spiritual connection with this parasite. They believed that allowing themselves to be blinded by the parasite throughout their lives gave rise to new senses that perceived a hidden reality, saying that they could see the 'essence' of life forms and thus discover whether they were mentally or physically ill. With the rise to the surface of the sea and the arrival of the modern age, this slowly became folklore and the tradition was lost.

The parasite that specifically affected the ancient Longevian sharkfolk has never been found in the wild again, only a few remain alive living in the eyes of elders who are more than five centuries old, probably extinguished by the abandonment of the practice.

I wrote some more details in the alt text of the illustrations if you want to check ~ I hope you enjoy! 🦈✨ I wanted to thank whoever asked this question! I've been stuck with art for a few days due to my declining mental health and this has inspired me to draw a little again! I will answer the other previous questions soon ~

#shark #sharks #worldbuilding #art #illustration

[foldingfittedsheets]

A friend I had briefly in my teens years was this girl in Arizona. She was a junior when I was a freshman, and as I was socially awkward and very lonely she kind’ve pulled me under her wing for a while. I don’t remember how we met, but I remember riding in her car and meeting her cute miniature Doberman.

But the thing I remember most about this girl was that she loved lying to me. And I had a massive but I acknowledged crush on her so I adored being lied to. Her natural charisma and storytelling was hypnotic.

It’s not what it sounds like because it wasn’t malicious but she came up with this in depth lore to tell me about this fake job she had. I know autistic people are meant to be credulous but I truly never believed her stories, I just adored her storytelling and was very ready to listen to whatever tale she spun that day. Another of her friends chided her once for teasing me but I genuinely never minded.

In her lore she moonlighted as a Professional Liar. People would hire her to get close to a target they wanted rattled. She’d make friends, develop a strong relationship, foster a dependency on her, then disappear. Then when they were confused and missing her sometime when the employer needed their target rattled she’d show back up as a glimpse to knock them off balance. Often it was implied she’d faked her death in the interim.

That itself was fine, it was an okay story. But in order to support that lie she’d make up tons of supporting details that were way more fun. She had this fake boyfriend who got high as balls on a mission and ended up seeing a sheep in a field and carrying it to a farmhouse to try to buy it because he wanted a puppy. I liked that one but suspected she didn’t know how big sheep were.

She’d IM chat with me as this made up boyfriend sometimes; once she had him ask me if I noticed her limping and he told me she’d just lost a toe but was covering for it like a champ. That one was fun.

She told me about something she called “purple charge” which was a way to get instant night vision. I did try looking that one up on the off chance, but was sadly disappointed there.

She said that Professional Liars had such high stakes jobs that they needed a week of insane time where they just partied so hard it was like a Dionysus rave and her IM boyfriend persona implied she’d killed someone during one of those stints.

I had such a fun time with her elaborate fiction that I’d often ask follow up questions and she had to do a lot of world building to keep up with my fascination. We’d get to class and I’d have three or four new questions which I think is why her friend thought her teasing was too far. They genuinely thought I believed her but I was just loving the fiction.

If any of this sounds malicious I’ll also add that when I got harassed on a roleplaying board she went out guns blazing to go after the guy who’d been harassing me. She genuinely enjoyed my company.

I find myself looking back on our friendship very fondly. I can’t remember her last name or have any way of looking her up, but she really was a professional liar to me. The only downside is that I’m completely faceblind so if she ever wanted to pop unexpectedly into my life I’d have no idea it was her.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #story #stories are just well told lies #at least in her case but I had a blast

[owl-bones]

Hey, I got a question for ya.Who THA HECK ARE EOS AND HELIOS?! I tried to found their story but I didn’t managed to find it…And since you’re their creator…could you explain ??? 👁️👄👁️

Thanks for your time (if you founded the time to read this) and (in any cases) have a good day ✌︎('ω')✌︎

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

backstory/lore/personalities below the cut! it's. longgggg. VERY long. slkdfjlsdk like over 3k words

Backstory (personalities at the bottom)

Nim was a goddess of emotions, tasked with protecting the worlds made by creators throughout the multiverse. Eventually she yearned to create something of her own, but couldn't make something out of nothing-- so she used herself. She made two beings to keep each other company when she was gone, and used what remained of herself to become a tree to give them shelter.

The beings she made were too young and weak to harness her power in its entirety, so she sealed her power away in the fruits of the tree she became so they could grow into her strength slowly.

The beings were Dream and Nightmare, two halves of her whole.

It continues similarly to Dreamtale-- overtime the tree flourishes and the skeletons slowly grow up together. A village is built nearby and, over decades, becomes a busy town. The child guardians are mostly left alone as the people don't understand them and they keep to themselves, but there are many rumors and myths that develop about the tree they guard. One such rumor is that the tree is the reason the town develops so successfully and quickly. Over generations the guardians are a constant, never aging (truthfully just very slowly) and the mythos surrounding them slowly begins to warp.

People get used to their presence and seek them out more often, and as the details about their guardianship and abilities begins to spread more and more rumors develop.

Dream is outgoing and cheery. He's personable and warm and easy to get along with. The townspeople quickly adopt him like a stray cat, and he's given gifts when he visits and treated kindly. He's called things like "little guardian" and "angel" and the like. He soaks up this attention and praise like a plant hungry for the sun's light and, over time, visits more and more often.

Nightmare is more wary and shy, but strikingly intelligent. He's incredibly protective of the tree of emotions, and rarely leaves. It's more than a magic tree; it's their home and history. A hidden library, the sum of all of Nim's knowledge and life experiences, rests within the tree's broad hollow trunk. There's room enough for dozens, if not hundreds of books, and a place for the twins to sleep and hide away. He's dedicated his life to knowing as much as he can about their long-silent mother and their duties as guardians and is very protective of the knowledge. This makes him more enigmatic to the townsfolk, and people are known to be afraid of the unknown. He's quickly dismissed as the ruder sibling, and shunned. Not that he minds.

Dream isn't as concerned with their history-- he's far more interested in the present and future. He's found himself enamored with the town and how it develops; how he's watched children age and have families of their own, how more buildings are built to spread the town further and further. He knows everyone and everyone knows him.

They are young teens at this point. A couple hundred years old but still maturing and growing. As they've aged the tree has lost fruit; the apples drop to the ground and disappear when they're picked up as the twins absorb them to age into their powers.

But prosperity doesn't last forever, and the tree held no real power over the town's success. Soon the town finds itself in trouble-- a drought, an oncoming war, it's not important. What's important is they cling to their superstitions and fears and try to find a scapegoat. Nightmare is that scapegoat, keeping their salvation from them. They haven't been taking proper care of the tree, that's why there's fewer fruit. It's their fault.

If the town can get to the apples the twins protect, maybe they can use them to help themselves. Maybe they can plant more magic trees to increase their prosperity, or their warriors can eat them and gain their strength. They don't know anything about the tree's true nature and don't care to listen to either Dream or Nightmare when they ask for the guardians' boons.

The townspeople aren't dissuaded, and instead turn to manipulation. If Dream and Nightmare won't give them their blessing, they will simply have to take what they need. The guardians are children, anyway. What do they know about the world and politics of adults?

They know they can't get Nightmare away from the tree, but they can at least lure Dream away. He's offered tea and treats by a trusted villager, unaware it contains a sedative. He falls asleep and they go to work-- dozens of villagers go to the tree and start picking the golden apples. They ignore the black apples, not interested in something appearing 'tainted'. Nightmare tries to stop them but things get violent and he's downed with a blow to his skull. He's still young, weak, inexperienced, and hopelessly outnumbered. He's pinned and forced to watch as his mother's body, his home, is defiled.

The townsfolk didn't count on Dream being resistant to the sedative, however. Despite the amount of sleep-inducing herbs he consumed he's awake within a few minutes. He's groggy and aware something is wrong, but he's up.

Concerned and distraught he's been poisoned by someone he trusted, he returns home to find his brother injured and restrained and the tree devoid of golden apples.

The townspeople have decided to cut down the tree without removing the black apples, thinking that will remove the problematic negativity and they can replant the golden ones to only have positive trees. They're already partway through the trunk, and that's what spurs Dream into action.

They haven't noticed him yet and he starts picking up the apples to protect them-- but they disappear as soon as they're in his arms. They're his power by birthright, and absorbing them is what he's meant to do. It's only natural that his power would want to go where it belongs. At first it's warm and he feels stronger and more aware of what's going on, but the more apples he picks up the more his body aches and starts to burn.

His vessel was never meant to contain this much power this quickly, and as he desperately tries to save the apples it starts to break at the seems. His bones crack, the injuries filling with golden light holding him together, but he doesn't stop.

The townsfolk notice him, finally, and stop cutting at the tree to stop him. But it's too late. He's 'consumed' enough now that he's strong enough to keep them back with a magic barrier. He could stop now, talk them down from their frenzy, but... he doesn't want to. Despite the pain of his body breaking and barely keeping itself together, the power he now burns with is... good. His senses feel sharper, he's stronger, and he's brimming with energy. He keeps absorbing the apples.

His power overflows and can't be contained within him anymore, and golden light seeps out of his spine. The people always called him an 'angel', and this moment is where that myth solidifies itself. They aren't wings, not yet, but the amorphous magic light at his back is enough to make the villagers back away. This is the divine salvation they've been waiting for, right? An angel come down to lead them to safety?

But Dream isn't feeling like the happy-go-lucky child they knew him as. He's feeling an all consuming rage like he has never felt before. His emotions are much stronger than they've ever been, burning inside him. And not only that-- the vague impressions of people's emotions he could always feel are clear as day now. He can see exactly what the people are feeling.

Fear. Anxiety. Anger. And... hope.

That hope stands out to him. It doesn't sting like the other feelings steeped around the tree right now. It's warm and comforting and he wants more.

But first he needs to free his brother. Nightmare is falling unconscious and his vision is blurry, but he recognizes Dream. Dream does his best to heal him, a skill he's been practicing as his magic slowly got stronger. Now, though, his magic is much more powerful. It's raw and out of control and the positivity burns Nightmare with its force, scorching his armrs. Dream stops almost immediately, but the damage is done.

Nightmare was already weak, but now he's on the brink of dusting. The faint wisps of Nim left in the tree uses the very last bit of her magic to turn him to stone to help him recover.

Confronted by the loss of his brother, convinced it was his fault and his magic that did it, Dream shuts down. He goes fully into denial. Nightmare is just resting, he's fine, everything's fine. He can fix everything.

He needs to get rid of the townspeople. They're crowding him and his brother and they need to leave immediately. Shockingly, they obey. Dream is left alone with the statue of his brother.

It's not long before he gets a craving for more of that positivity he sensed. When he returns to the town, suspicious and still angry, he finds everything strikingly normal. Everyone is going about their business as if nothing had happened and he's greeted warmly (if a little nervously). There's more hope coming from everyone and it soothes the ache in his chest.

Dream overhears people whispering about him, calling him the angel again, and he starts putting the pieces together. The head of the town meets with him and suddenly he's not treated like a petulant child, but he's given information.

The town's issues are explained to him. The people are putting their hopes and dreams on his shoulders. There's expectations and they want things from him despite what they have done. And Dream finds himself answering the call, drunk on the power and feeling seen for the first time.

The people weren't acting maliciously, he tells himself. They were just misguided. They didn't know what they were doing, just like how they thought he didn't know what he was doing. He's the guardian of positivity. If they want prosperity and joy again, he can help them. He can guide them to what they want. They just have to stay away from the half-felled tree and do as he says.

As it turns out, the people are more than willing to stay far away from the negativity-steeped tree and follow his orders. They very quickly fall into line and worship him. He has no idea how to lead or manage a town, but nobody dares speak a word against him. Not that they need to. Despite the continuing issues they face, no townsperson can say that they're unhappy with Dream in charge. The opposite, in fact.

Since he came to be with them permanently everyone has found themselves filled with nothing but hope and happiness. They work tirelessly without complaint. Under his guidance the town expands even further over the decades until it's a fortified, bustling kingdom.

But Dream grows bored managing the mortals. He still ages slowly, and now an adult and having overseen a kingdom and its silly politics for generations, he wants more. He's grown properly into his powers and the magic at his back is now properly shaped like wings, like the 'angel' he is.

Nightmare used to speak of the other worlds the books within the tree would describe, and Dream for the first time in centuries seeks out his old home. He finds the books, worn but still intact, and learns of the multiverse and the balance.

It's then that he decides, like the expansion of the kingdom and his influence, to bring his light and positivity to other worlds.

It's another century or two after Dream leaves that Nightmare's petrification wears off. The apples have all fallen from the tree over the years, and he's slowly come into his powers himself. And yet he's still so... fatigued. Like something is sapping his strength no matter how much he rests.

The incident feels like it only happened moments ago for him, and yet he's alone. The library of his childhood is decrepit and the books are in poor condition and barely salvageable. His brother is gone, and when he goes looking for him... the town is a massive kingdom. White and gold and successful, flying golden banners and proclaiming Dream as their patron guardian.

But he's not there, either. Nightmare spends time in the kingdom working as a farmhand just trying to understand what exactly has happened and changed in the time he's been away. It's not easy finding information about his brother that's not glorified, and being an 'outsider' makes it even harder. The myth of the guardian of negativity has faded with time, his status as Dream's brother merely a footnote in the story, and for the first time in his life Nightmare is treated rather... normally by those around him.

It's a couple years later that Nightmare finally comes into his own and realizes the extent of Dream's control over both their original home, and the worlds he's visited since. He remembers reading about the careful balance he and Dream were meant to preserve... but he can tell that something isn't right. Somewhere along the way, growing up alone and worshipped and corrupted by the positivity he was meant to guard, Dream has lost himself. He's 'fixing' every AU he can, making them positive and trying to drive the balance as far in his favor as possible.

Nightmare leaves his home, alone and unsure of himself, and quickly finds himself lost in a sea of worlds that hate him. Due to his efforts to right the balance, he is painted a villain. He's used to it, and yet it still hurts. The hope that it was just that village that hated him quickly turns into the realization he is doomed to be hated wherever he goes, no matter how correct his actions.

The first time he runs into Dream, it seems like everything is going to be okay. They're together again, nothing bad can happen to them now that they're both powerful. But Dream's aura is draining to Nightmare, and their goals are too far apart. Dream's joy at the realization his brother isn't dead quickly turns to petulance when Nightmare insists he stops disrupting the balance and returns the AUs he's altered to their proper states.

They argue, and despite how much it hurts they go their separate ways. Nightmare continues to try and fix things, coming into conflict with Dream every so often, but he's outnumbered again. Dream has hundreds of people in his employ, sent out to AUs constantly to help put them on track to be positive. Nightmare is alone and weakened. Despite working tirelessly, there is nothing he can do to fix things. The balance shifts ever further, and Nightmare grows weaker.

It's years into their conflict that Dream hurts his brother again. He's used to them being on relatively even footing. He holds back against his disadvantaged brother, and Nightmare escapes before things get too bad. It's a song and dance they've done countless times at this point. But eventually, the time comes that Nightmare doesn't dodge in time. An arrow pierces his chest.

He's alive, the wound not enough to outright kill him, but he's comatose. Dream takes him back to his home, an opulent palace in an empty AU he's transformed to his liking. Nightmare can't get hurt anymore like this. Dream can protect him, and when he wakes up he'll convince him to see things his way. Everything will be okay. He always fixes things.

(Nightmare does eventually wake up and more things happen, but i'll save the how and why for later ;) )

Dream / Helios

Hundreds of years old, massively powerful, and incredibly influential. Dream has (peacefully) conquered most major AUs and solved their conflicts. Beloved by all and he knows it, he's egotistical and used to getting what he wants. And if he doesn't get what he wants... he finds a way. He's entitled and arrogant but also completely assured in his power. He has no need to gloat, he's quite confident in his status and abilities. But that isn't to say he doesn't like praise; he lives for it.

He's generous and well-intentioned, but also fully capable of justifying the means to get his end. If an AU can't be fixed it's either cordoned off or allowed to be destroyed. He employs many many people from many AUs to do his bidding, including those from AUs that would be considered 'negative'. If there's only one person left in the AU, removing them and giving them a better life is the next best way to fix it.

He doesn't have friends, not really, but his close confidants are Blue and Strike. He collects injured mythological creatures from AUs and rehabilitates them at his palace. He considers himself a patron of the arts, and aside from hiring people to help spread positivity he also hires artisans to live in his palace and fill it with art of all kinds. Tailors, sculptors, painters, writers, singers/musicians, and more.

He has many hobbies he's picked up over the years, but enjoys singing the most. He can fly with his wings, and is strong enough to carry someone along with him. He can change their size and shape depending on need.

He's very self conscious about the golden cracks all over his body, considering it a symbol of his weakness when he was young. He wears full coverings at all times (except his skull), and would only show the cracks to someone he truly trusts and cares for.

He's very skilled with a bow and rapier, but prefers to leave the fighting to his guards. He's very clever with his words and can be a skilled manipulator, but is equally capable of lacing his words with magic and forcing people to follow his will. He's very in-tune with souls and can manipulate even the slightest bit of positivity he senses, and there's a few people around his castle that are effectively his puppets due to their disobedience.

Nightmare / Eos

Cynical and exhausted. He's a workaholic; he doesn't have time to rest, he has to live up to his responsibilities. He rested enough as a statue and he can't afford to stop for even a moment. He wants nothing more than to have everything go back to the way it was and be close with Dream again, but worries the passage of time and what happened when they were young has put an irreparable crack in their relationship. The Dream he fights now is nothing like the Dream he knew when they were young, and he struggles to grasp that disparity.

Dream however can't help but recognize that Nightmare has barely changed. He's still shy and a bookworm. He's vilified and despised by most around him despite his good intentions, and continues to stand up for what he believes in in spite of it. He knows he will never be the hero of the story, but fights anyway.

He's slow to make friends and even slower to fully trust someone. He yearns to be understood and treated like a full person and not as a scapegoat for fears and misunderstandings. He's fighting to right the balance as is his responsibility, but all he really wants is to settle down and rest. He gets easily attached to people that make him feel safe and comforted.

He grew into his magic slowly as a statue, but is still adjusting to the changes even years later. When he's overwhelmed by negativity it can result in him leaking corruption from his sockets and mouth.

He's weakened from the balance being disrupted, but makes up for it with alternative magic he's learned from books. He has a passion for bookbinding and book restoration and has lovingly recreated and repaired what he could from the tree's library. He thinks it's very important to preserve Nim's history and live up to his responsibility as a guardian.

Not as skilled with a bow as his brother, but a decent swordsman with a sickle or scythe. He fights his own battles and eventually gains a team of close friends to support him.

#rayne's art #swapdream!totality #helios!dream #eos!nightmare

[reikamasama]

𝙰 𝚂𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝙾𝚏 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 ? II

Pairing ; Hazbin Hotel X G/N Teen!Reader

Warnings ; implications of Abuse/Manipulation

Word count ; 5.9K

Summary ; You and Rosie are on an outing together, purchasing clothing and eat a meal together! Little did you know you were about to start a new chapter in your life.

⁀➷Prologue, ꕥ chapter I, ꕥ Chapter II

The grass excels a beautiful green color as it gently flows with the breeze, allowing it to pass through with multiple leaves and petals that have fallen from the mixed trees. The different trees sway softly as they sunbathe underneath the tropical sun. There’s a soft smell of grass and flowers that beams through the air. 

The park is as empty as ever— not a sound can be heard. The flower gardens are overgrown and the benches are on their last leg, as vines have taken over the majority of them, painting them in the colors of nature; with the orange slowly but surely fading away. 

Your eyes stare at the photo of Minori, Yuki, Rinku and you.. standing in this park on its dock with big smiles on your faces. You look so happy.. 

They look so happy.. you were at peace when you were with them.

You can still remember the scent from the picture, even if your only looking at it. You smile sadly at your phone, you miss them, you really do but your mother has restricted you from seeing them under the exam-season. Yes, you may have not obeyed that rule as you’ve been meeting them in secret, but it still pained you that you weren’t allowed to be with them. 

According to your mother they were ‘bad influences’, due to them not being ‘study motivated’. 

You have tried explaining to her that you did help them by tutoring them, she got very angry — or maybe annoyed was the right word? Either way she told you that it would stunt your own development if you needed to assist others all of the time instead of focusing on my own studies. Her claims were ludicrous, but she is your mother after all, and they.. do know best. 

Your eyes scan the photo, it looks so cheerful, you were all doing silly little poses while smiling. The matching flowers you all decided to wear in your hair blends very well with the cherry blossom leaves falling in the background of the photo. The screen light is the only thing you can focus on right now, as the ends of your bittersweet smile can only grow. 

That day was one of the best days in your life. You were able to clear your head, be away from your studies and you were able to be with your friends. It was an actual dream come true and you wanna go back to that moment.. maybe if you just space out you can relive that moment..

“[Name] what are you looking at, dear?”

Her smile is sweet, offering you your false sense of security like she always does. Or maybe it is real..? 

You snap out of your day dreaming state, her voice fills the empty air as she speaks your name. Your vision blurs and you blink helping you regain your vision whilst putting your phone down — looking around. 

You are standing in a darkened room, it’s filled with quiet whispers as they look at the different exhibits. Wait.. weren’t you just at home? When did you go to the art exhibit. You can’t seem to remember anything as your eyes fixate of your mother remembering her question.

“Ah, i was just looking at the time”

You pause before you continue,

“I know you allowed me to have a study free day so i could join you at this art exhibit, and i am thankful that you wish for me to broaden my creative mind! So i was only checking the time making sure we didn’t have to go home anytime soon!”

Lies, lies and more lies drip through your teeth, it’s like your whole life is built up on lies. Lies to please her, lies to please your mother. You feel your own body enter a dull state, slowly draining all your emotions like a puppet on a string, your eyes feel more dull, you can barely remember if you have blinked at all.. you force a smile as your eye twitches, luckily your mother didn’t notice.

“I’m glad you are enjoying your time here, honey! How about we take a look at that painting over there?” 

She asks you; looking at you expectantly awaiting a response.

“Yes mother, let’s! It looks quite lovely from over here.”

Her face turned into a pleased expression clasping her hands together as she begins to make her way towards the painting. You follow — having your hands intertwined as they sit in front of you. You keep a steady pace as you follow her, hearing a tap with every step you take. You swiftly make your way to a small crowd of people admiring the displayed painting.

You squish yourself into the crowd surrounding the painting. It reeked of perfume, it made your nose scrunch up as you felt the different fragrances collide creating that horrid stench. You look to your right — eyeing your mother before you follow her gaze letting yours land on the painting. It is a very strange piece.? It has a few lines and circles drawn on it. It barely had any variation with shapes or colors, it was a simple painting only using different shades of greens and blues. How do people enjoy this so called ‘art’? It feels empty, there’s no thought or emotion put into that thing.. there’s no message the art is trying to forward, there’s no eye catching features, it’s a whole lot of nothing. At least from what you can tell. 

You grow restless.. the painting goes from boring to ugly, you don’t want to see it anymore, no. You want to leave.. standing in the crowd makes you feel nervous, it feels as if a pair of eyes are always on you, the feeling haunts you and sends a shiver down your spine. Despite this spacious room and the fact it’s not filled to the brim with people you still fear that you are being watched, making you feel a need to make no mistake. Make no mistake. You can’t make a mistake. Ever. Never ever. Why is the room so wide.. why is it so dark, why is it so cold..? 

You exhale quietly and you swore you were able to see a little cloud form in front of your face due to the chilly air. A voice snaps you out of your strange day dreaming state once again. 

“Dear this piece has such value doesn’t it?”

God, you really gotta stop doing this. Your neck snaps towards your mother’s direction, a forced smile stays plastered on your face. 

“Yes of course, i liked its creative aspects quite a lot.”

Lies, come on just speak the truth!

“Are you ready to move onto the next piece?”

Yes, you don’t want to be here: you wish for her to let you go home.

“Yes mother!”

You escape the rich scent making your way out of the crowd. 

Clack. That sound echoed though the venue as the picture perfect mother and child makes their way to another painting, this one only had a few people admiring it and you mentally relaxed ever so slightly — knowing it won’t have that rich people scent all over the place. Your mother and you finally reach the painting, your eyes land on the colorful canvas and it reminds you of something. 

The painting resembles a beautiful flower that’s placed inside of a vase, that is on a cozy wooden table. The flower in itself struck you with such a spesific feeling, like something you’ve seen before. It has such gradient colors and this is something that pulls you in. You could tell that the artist has put their heart and soul into this and there is definitely some kind of message that you might not be able to decipher — but you knew that this painting was something special.. Wait a minute.. 

It’s as if a puzzle has been solved inside of your brain, a certain piece of said puzzle that has been misplaced finally finds its place. This flower is recognizable due to it being the same flower you and your friends were wearing in the picture! You feel a strange wave of happiness sending throughout your body, you feel like you’re back in control it’s you now, it’s really you. Like the strings have been lifted but you lifted them on your own.

“Oh my god, [Name]? I never knew you were into art, what are you doing here!”

Arms wrap around your shoulders as you hear a chuckle, they spin you around only to lock you in a hug. Your eyes lay upon the figure who’s hugging you, it was the one and only Yuki. She normally isn’t this affectionate, but it’s probably due to the fact you haven’t been able to meet her a lot recently. 

“Oh, dear is this a friend of yours?”

You freeze in Yuki’s grip feeling her arms gently let go of you, freeing you from her warm embrace. You don’t want her to meet her, what if she.. disapproved.?

“Yes mother, this is Yuki!”

You pause before you stand in the middle of the two your eyes mostly staying on your mothers. 

Her snake eyes — eye Yuki up and down with a judgmental look before her face softens up and she smiles calmly.

“Hello there Yuki, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

⋇⊶⊰  n o  ⊱⊷⋇

Your body leans against the oddly comfortable mattress in your newfound room. You had been in Rosie’s care for a few weeks now and you have grown quite fond of her. Rosie has always been such a darling to you, prioritizing your needs over her own. She has helped guide you throughout hell and there’s quite a lot you had to learn. 

You made sure to jot down the most important parts in a notebook, just in case. Your fingers trace alongside the surface of the notebook, it had a black cover with a rose on it. Allowing your thumb to fall on the cover of the notebook, opening it. 

The first page has the headline ‘Important’ on it. The handwriting was a very readable one, something your mother had taught you from an early age

“Having a presentable writing style will make you stand out above the rest and bring you more job opportunities”

Gosh, you really need to stop thinking about her, she isn’t here anymore. She isn’t here. Is she? You are your own dependent person now, heck Rosie is more of a mother than she ever will be. Your strings have been cut and you are no longer her puppet. 

You’re grateful for having Rosie take care of you, really. But the freedom hell was able to provide you was an overwhelming sensation to say the least. 

Before you fell down to hell your mother controlled your whole life, from your clothes to the actions you made, it was all things she controlled on your never ending stage. 

It was like you were acting in a one man show — creating the most pleasing stage performance to the person you were supposed to love and trust the most.

You were tired, really really tired and you had never taken a notice to this until you got an actual good nights rest your first few days here with Rosie. You were forced to be in bed rest by Rosie, and she was not taking no for an answer.  She has brought you meals, decorative items for your room and went to you just to chat about her emporium and other gossip. You listened to her rants, her voice had such emotion, emotion your mother never was able to give you. Rosie and you also had had conversations about the pain in your throat, she made sure to bring you all sorts of foods and drinks trying to help you get better, and within these few weeks it was like you were building up a kind of ‘talk tolerance’. You were now able to hold multiple conversations before your throat gives you the sensation of that sharp pain you felt once you first meet Rosie.

Speaking of Rosie, she wished for you to join her for an outing today. 

You weren’t quite sure what the outing was for but you knew she was going to bring you outside of cannibal town, that in itself is a rare occasion. You swing yourself off of the bed letting your feet land on the floor with a quiet ‘thud’. You stand up and stretch, raising your arms towards the ceiling as you let out a yawn, stretching your sore muscles. You let out a satisfied exhale as you walking over to your drawer hearing a creek sound coming from the creaky wooden floors with each step you take. 

You slip on some clothing that Rosie has been lending you over these past weeks, they might have been a tad big on you, you didn’t mind though. You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, admiring your demon features before you fix your hair making you look presentable. You slip on some shoes before you reach out for the golden knob on the vintage themed door. 

Your eyes look back to glance on the room once last time before you leave, making sure to hadn’t forgotten anything, not that you had much to leave anyway..

Once you confirm that there’s nothing you’re leaving behind you twist the doorknob and exit the room. 

You make your way though the darkened hallway, it’s only light being provided by a little lamp at the end of the hallway. Your fingers trace along the cold wall as you walk to the end of the hallway. You really liked the vintage theme to the whole town, it’s just like the history books you used to read and it makes you feel welcome, you used to have a modern home back on earth so this was a nice change of pace. Your feet clack whilst making contact with the wooden flooring, your footsteps are the only thing that can be heard down the echoey hallway, you steadily reach the wooden stairs. Your hand reaches to hold the un-even railing of the staircase as you begin walking down it, carefully letting your hand slide down the railing to make sure you don’t get any splinters. You stumble when you’re at the bottom step and clumsily make an entrance to the emporium. 

You quickly straighten your backs and brush of imaginary dust off of your clothing, wishing to the seven rings of hell Rosie did not see your little mishap. Your eyes scan the area landing on Rosie standing behind the emporiums counter, you feel warm upon seeing her little smile as she counts money, it seems that her shop has been doing very well today! You feel a smile grow on your face as your legs gravitate towards the counter, step after step you slowly get closer to Rosie with your quiet footsteps tapping on the stone like floor. Rosie seemingly was stuck in her own world as you reached the counter and stood behind it, not sure if she was able to sense your presence. You were about to clear your throat to catch her attention but her voice interrupted your actions;

“Ah, [Name] you have finally arrived, you know keeping a lady waiting is very rude now— oh I’m just kidding no need to break a sweat over this dear!” 

She chuckles at her own ranting before she places the money back in the register, her fingers fiddles with a stubborn lock and you decide it’s a good time to ask her what you are even going to do.

“So, Rosie. You have never taken the time to explain what exactly this outing is for?”

You say this wearing a normal expression, but your voice gives you away as it sounds more confused if anything. 

Rosie lights up ever so slightly at the mention of the outing as she clasps her hands together,

“Well my dear [Name], we both know that you have been borrowing a lot my stuff since you have arrived here,”

She pauses wich leaves room for you to input an apology.

“Yes about that I’m sorry Rosie—“

“No no! I do not mind at all, after all if i didn’t wish for you to borrow my things i wouldn’t have permitted you to use them.”

You knew arguing with Rosie about this wouldn’t lead anywhere, she was a stubborn lady who stood her ground, you respected that and honestly kind of envied it. It’s something you were never able to do, stand up to yourself. 

Rosie places a hand on her hip as she continues with a soft look on her face.

“Well the reason for this outing today is that we are going to purchase you new clothing! I believe you would like to wear other clothing than what you are borrowing from me at the moment, hm?”

You have never really thought of it before, you were used to your mother purchasing all of your clothes so getting to borrow some from Rosie was nothing too different. Rosie’s clothing may have been a bit too oversized on you but it was nothing that hindered you, from work or anything of the sorts but you have been a bit interested in the world of clothing, maybe this is a way you’ll be able to express yourself! Maybe a new start? You like the sound of that, the sound of you becoming your own person.

“While i don’t mind wearing this, they are quite comfy after all! It would be nice with something that’s a little more.. me.?”

The end of the sentence trails off feeling like you’re having a hard time choosing the right wording. 

She chuckles and lets one of her hands fall onto your shoulder, patting it before making her way to the front of the counter. Your hands fold as you let them rest in front of you.

“Shall we?”

Rosie says, offering you a toothy smile as you nod. The two of you make your way to exit the emporium.

⋇⊶⊰  s t u c k   ⊱⊷⋇

The sound of you and Rosie’s footsteps straddling along the sidewalk can barley be heard as demons outside of cannibal town seem to be more indecent, loud fights and conversations followed along with blasting TV’s follow trough out the streets of the pride ring. Your eyes dart around the overwhelming streets. You feel rather tense, staying on guard with each step you take. With every passing second your muscles become more sore as you feel uncomfortable. 

You never knew what to expect from hell.. but this was exactly like Rosie explained it — if not even worse.. 

You feel a slender hand find its way on the small of your back as it makes you stop in your tracks and urge you in a direction to a certain store. Your head swiftly turn only to see Rosie standing there with her normal grinning self looking down at you giving you a reassuring smile. Your head turns to the direction she is urging you in. It was a tailor store, and it was also the only eye catching store on the street as it was the only store that hadn’t been completely torn.. You hesitate before reaching your hand out to the handle. your fingers slowly grip around the oddly long handle.. huh its strangely cold for something that’s in hell. You inhale deeply trying to shake off the odd feeling you’ve got brewing inside of you.

The inside of the shop has a very cozy feeling, it has very fitting colors that reminds you of the Victorian era. There’s very over-the-top fancy decors on both furniture and clothing with golden accents. Your eyes dart around the store landing on different mannequins dressed in all sorts of clothing, from frilly to pointy, casual to formal — there’s a bit of everything in here. 

“Oh this shop has always had such a nice feeling to it, maybe i should ask them to be a part of cannibal town! Haha”

Rosie laughs at her little comment before her eyes dart to you,

“So dear, what do you think? Where would you like to start?”

Her question makes you stop in your tracks, she’s right, where should you start? You could start with shirts? Maybe pants? Maybe accessories — ugh.. this is gonna be harder than you expected.. you consider your options

“How about we take a stroll around the shop? And see if i find something eye catching along the way?” 

She agrees with you as she follows you around the store.

You have a hard time at first, it was difficult learning how to figure out your likes and dislikes. You feel different pieces have different textures and colors, you now have an understanding for your mother who took a long time in stores like these — it was a struggle picking out outfits that would look nice together. 

It takes you a second but you start warming up a little after Rosie points out a few articles of clothing here and there and not long after, you’ve managed to fill a bag of clothes. You feel proud of yourself, it’s your beginning to the new you. The clothing you’ve picked out is very different from what your mom used to choose for you. You were always told as a kid that you were dressing in such an ‘adult’ like-way, little did they know it was cause you never were allowed to choose clothing of your own. 

You take a quick look through the bag feeling that you’ve picked out enough clothing to fill out your wardrobe. Rosie was hesitating — feeling that you could pick out even more but she decided to sneak in a few more pieces just to help you out a little.

When you told Rosie you felt finished with your shopping the two of you went to the fitting rooms. 

You feel the soft fabric of the curtain against your fingers as you open it with a bit of force. Rosie hands you the bag she’s been carrying all of this time and you let out a quick ‘thank you’ before closing the velvet curtain allowing you to change. 

There’s multiple mirrors in the dressing room and it feels so strange being able to see yourself from different angles all at once. You gently place the bag on the floor with a little ‘plop’ before you bend down picking up different pairs of shirts and trousers gently placing them on the little black wooden stool inside of the dressing room. You undress yourself, starting with your shirt, then the rest. You get kind of distracted being able to see yourself in the mirror in such a state, yes you’ve seen your full demon form before but it still strikes you as odd no matter how many times you see yourself. Your hands hover over the shirts before you find one that sticks out amongst the rest as you pick it up. You raise your arms sliding your hands and head trough the holes of the shirts, and as its on you adjust the shirt smoothing out any wrinkles you can find. You smile to yourself, the shirt has a very soft color and it has a few frills adding some volume to it. Now all you needed were a pair of trousers, you find a pair that you see fit with the shirt and slide them on, you can feel the soft texture of the trousers and it is very comfortable. 

You admire the outfit you’ve put on in the mirror, it really suits you and you feel it brings out a whole new side from you. Huh i guess, ‘clothes makes the sinner’ really is true! 

“I’m done!”

You say in a louder tone, a tone audible enough for Rosie to hear but not close to make anybody else believe you’re an obnoxiously loud asshole. 

Your voice tells Rosie that you’re done and her face turns to the silky curtains you’re hiding behind, looking expectantly at it. Your hands grab onto the velvet curtains struggling once again to slide the curtain open, but as it slides open you take a step out of the dressing room, resting your hands clasped together in front of you like you usually do. You were expecting a reaction from Rosie but you were certainly never expecting her to start clapping to the outfit you’ve put together. 

“My, this is definitely better than i expected! It fits you so well, dear!” 

She coos followed along by a chuckle;

“Go on now, don’t just stand there! Give me a little spin!”

You do just that, lifting the weight off of your feet as you give Rosie a gentle spin showing her your whole outfit. 

She keeps on complimenting you and your outfit making you feel embarrassed as your cheeks grow warm. 

“Aha.. thank you Rosie, I’m glad you like it.”

Your words were short but your voice sounded sincere, you are not used to all this attention she’s giving you.. but you have got to admit that it feels nice. 

“Here dear, try this hat on I’m sure it will add  to your look quite a lot!~”

She gives you a playful wink, followed by her hands reaching out for your head, gently placing the hat on you. Your head turns to look into one of the mirrors in the dressing room. You felt a bubbly feeling inside of your chest, you just felt so happy.. you looked so pretty — and it’s all thanks to Rosie letting you be, well you! You smile feeling a little tear build up, but you softly rub your eye and turn back to Rosie with a smile, an authentic smile. 

“Thank you Rosie!”

You chuckle along side with her as she pats you on the back;

“Of course dear, you look lovely!”

Her hands move from your back to your shoulders before she urges you into the changing room once again, she lets go of your shoulders once you’re in the room and grabs onto the curtain.

“Try on those other outfits now! We don’t got all day i still have a few things planned for us!”

You felt very confident after the interaction. Rosie has been nothing but supportive and that doesn’t change as you try on the different outfits. She praises them one by one and it was strange.. you don’t remember placing some articles of clothing in the bag? Oh well, it worked out in any case so that’s fine. When you were done with the little ‘shopping spree’ you felt famished and Rosie suggested that the two of you headed to a restaurant that she had been eyeing for a while, you trusted in her style and the two of you made the way to a restaurants. It was a very classy restaurant and multiple sinners where there, sinners with more money and have a higher status in hell. You may not really be important to hell but you are in important company. You believe you recognize multiple of the sinners there. At one of the tables you believe that Carmilla sits there along side with her daughters, on another table across the restaurant your able to see the Vees— their loud and obnoxious well at least Vox and Valentino is Velvette couldn’t care less it seemed. A sinner came up to you and Rosie bringing the two of you to a table that’s placed far away from Carmilla and the Vees. 

The table presented in front of you seems to be in a more secluded area as multiple tables were empty. You thanked Lucifer for being in a less crowded space. You feel your tense shoulders soften up and only then you realized how truly tense you have been this whole outing. You exhale quietly before pulling out the chair that’s presented before you, it is a very.. normal chair, nothing special like you thought this place would be since Rosie seems to prefer class. You sit down onto the not-so-soft chair. 

“You seem to have finally relaxed dearie, did you not enjoy your free shopping spree?”

She says that with a smug expression on her face as she sits down and crosses her leg over the other.

You feel a bit panicked — swiftly trying to explain yourself,

“No that’s not it at all Rosie! I appreciate your help! Hell is just — hell you know..!”

You chuckle quietly at your own pun as Rosie chuckles alongside you.

“Well i certainly can’t blame you for that, in any case dear welcome to one of my favorite restaurants in hell! Now i do prefer.. meatier meats, i assumed you were not into trying that yet, am i right?”

You nod not really saying anything, and after a second or so a waiter comes up to the table in a strangely good timing. You look at the waiter and they look tired, like they hate their job — you expect to hear a tired annoyed voice as they speak;

“What would you like Miss Rosie and..?”

“Mx. [Name] is fine!”

Their voice was strangely happy as they handed out the menu’s,

“So, what would the two of you like? Or shall i circle back later to take your order?”

You pick up the menu to scroll trough it quickly, there was a lot of options with really fancy names that honestly were hard to read.. but you did regonize some of the desserts.. ‘cheesecake’ ‘Velvette cake’ ‘cupcake’ ‘angel food cake’ hmm.. there is a lot of cake in here— wait! Angel food cake? Sign me up! You softly place down the menu noticing how both Rosie and the waiter was starring at you rather intensely and it made you feel nervous, so you stutter as you speak;

“I..l have the angel food.. cake.” You pause;

“Please.” 

Rosie smiles and looks to the waiter, 

“well you heard the little darling, one angel food cake, and double it!”

The waiter scribbles in their little notebook with their tired face looking more lively now.

“And what would you like to drink”

You felt the day has been kind of tiering, so a simple water couldn’t do you any harm.

“Just some water..”

The waiter nods and glances at Rosie whom just nods quietly telling the waiter she was going to order the same as you. The waiter quickly scribbles on the notebook before taking their leave the two of you to chit-chat. 

Your eyes wander around the restaurant not specifically looking at anything in particular. Time feels — awfully slow for some reason, tick, tock ,tick ,tock.. the clock clouds your brain. 

Its ticking reminds you of the late study sessions, the smell of your room. The god awful smell of cleaning products.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

The day of you dying came back to you. The moments pretending to spare your mother only to murder her in cold blood. You remember her face, it was an expression you had never seen from her before - but you knew it all to well. 

It was an expression you had worn multiple times before, she had made you feel so small.. so little, she got what she deserved .. right? Right. Im sure you’re just being dramatic, she never did you any good! She only feed you, bought you clothes, gave you a roof over your head she even made you meals…. all you had to do was study… no, no that’s not true stop!

“[Name] dear, you’re spacing out again, what are you doing in that little brain of yours hm?”

Your eyes flutter in confusion, your nose has now been filled with the scent of angel food cake, your pupils darted to the plate of dessert in front of you, it looked just like it did back on earth. Your eyes darted to look at Rosie’s and her expression is difficult to read, that’s Strange your normally swell at reading emotions.

“Sorry,”

Your voice sounded quiet and you raised it to a normal speaking volume;

“What were you saying Rosie?”

The lady chuckled at you before lifting a little fork in her hand taking a bit of the angel foodcake before placing it in her mouth, quickly swallowing it as she answers your question.

“Well pay attention now, for what I’m about to say is important.”

You nod at her statement letting your eyes remain on the gray ladies pupils as you pick up the silverware in your hand, the fork is small and you slice off a bit from your dessert parting your lips as you try the delectable dessert. The flavor beams through your mouth, it’s a bit too sweet for your taste but it makes you happy. You happily listen to Rosie as you chew on the little treat.

“It has been a lovely time to have you around the emporium, and you have brought me a good business I’ll tell ya that! But i believe it’s time..”

She pauses — you presume it’s for dramatic effect as you keep eating pieces of the angel food cake.

“..for you to go to the hazbin hotel.”

You choke on your dessert a little, your hand reaches out for the water as you quickly pour the liquid down your throat, to wash the stuck piece away. What did she just say. The hazbin hotel? The one she has spoken about before? Redemption? you? — hah no way! 

You have stopped eating now and the little fork you used to hold in your hand has now fallen onto the plate, you don’t react through. Your expression is so confused, scared, surprised a whole package deal.

“Now dear, calm down you’ll be allowed to visit me anytime! I just believe you shouldn’t be stuck in hell for eternity, sure! You fucked up.. yeah you may be flawed, but i can tell that you’re a good kid, [Name]. 

“Even if i don’t believe in redemption, go prove me wrong with that strong will of yours!”

..does she actually mean that, does she believe you can be redeemed? You killed someone, but she still believes in you.. you take a deep breath — inhale, exhale.

“Are you.. are you sure.. i mean I’m not doubting you I’m just— what if they won’t accept me there..?”

Your voice struggles with the sentence you’re not sure what to say.. it all just feels like a big decision to make on a whim. Your hands fiddle with anything they can get their hands on and Rosie smiles sadly at you whilst your eyes dart down to look at your hands.

“I’m sure you will dear, and if anything and i mean anything bothers you, the emporium will always be open.”

Her words were calm, comforting even — but now her words weight on you. You want to do your best for Rosie.. but can you?

..

..

..

..

..

—

Of course you can.

Your [Name] after all. 

⋇⊶⊰  y o u ?  ⊱⊷⋇

You wave a nervous hand to Rosie before you turn a 180, allowing you to get a good view at the hotel. It is huge but has a very.. strange appearance, also it’s located on the side of the town isolated from everything else— that’s one of the weirdest things ever! You can feel your heart raising as you being walking up to the hotel, one step after another. 

When you are stood at the door you take some deep breaths, come on! You have got this [Name]! You hesitantly reach your hand out to the handle before gently opening the door.

⋇⊶⊰ E N D  ⊱⊷⋇

Sheesh, this was a long one! The author apologizes for the delay on the chapter and would like to say that he will publish chapters around every 2 weeks! He tries his best and nitpicks a lot on his story wich can delay the writing! He would also like me to inform that there’s now a tag list, so if you are interested please go ahead and tell us in the comments!

That’s all I’ve got to say for now, so i hope everyone enjoyed this story-telling session and i hope to see everyone back for more next time! Bye-bye now!

(Thanks everyone for the support on the recent 2 parts of this series, it makes me so happy to see people enjoy reading it and the reblogs has brought big smiles to my face! Thank you everybody sm<3)

~ Tags for reach ~

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin #x nb reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin x reader #x nb Reader #alastor x reader #husker x reader #angeldust x reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #vaggie #niffty

[bobluvbot]

birthday blues

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: first time godfather sirius goes shopping to find the perfect first birthday gift (jily + baby harry ♥️) wc: 5k a/n: me tryna heal canon trauma ❤️ because in my world everyone lives happily ever after !!! my lil celebration piece for hitting 200 followers! thank u all <3 not proofread, english is not my first language so plz be nice heheh

“What’s the store called again, sweets?”

even as a young kid, one of your biggest pet peeves is repeating yourself for more than four times. three is pushing it. your parents told you its a bad habit to take to adulthood because you’re bound to meet people who just don’t get what you’re saying the first or second time around. But one Wednesday morning, when you asked from upstairs where your favorite periwinkle socks were and your parents downstairs said something that the loud dishwasher and vacuum covered up, you asked them to repeat it again (still can’t hear), and again when you moved closer to the staircase down (barely heard any), then you heard your father’s heavy footsteps up, personally shoving in your waiting hand the said pair of socks.. only damp. “Honey, I said three times already, that they were still in the dryer,” your dad had huffed before heading back downstairs. That’s when you knew it was genetic. 

But, you love Sirius Black. It’s gotten to the point where in the honest, sensitive hours past midnight, while there was nothing much to do as you let sleep creep up from your tired limbs to your fluttering eyelids, but to watch peace settle on the raven-haired boy’s sharp features, ethereal and glowing like an angel even in the dark of the night; that you realize he may be the love of your life. It’s a scary thought, with fears of being too eager, too soon, too much—- so you tuck it in a little pocket and give it a nudge when you need a reminder of how big and true its growing with each second spent together. 

You love him, so you breathe out the snarky irritation away in slow heavy puffs and inhale peace, choosing to exercise patience because you know Sirius is nervous. 

“It’s Spintwitches Sporting Needs, love. ‘s right across Ollivanders if I’m not mistaken,” you say, taking his free hand in yours and rubbing small circles on his knuckles to calm some of his nerves down, while he drives through busy muggle London streets to park by the Leaky Cauldron. He throws you a soft smile and gives your hand a quick squeeze as thanks, grateful to the heavens that you’re here to keep him from going insane.

You know him enough that, while the day in question is not about him, or you, or your relationship, it meant a great deal to Sirius. 

He had one chance (even if you’d argue otherwise) to make things right, do things the right way the first time around with Harry. James knew this fact by heart, which is why he and Lily agreed in a heartbeat that Sirius should be little Harry’s godfather, as it was meant to be. He would do anything, go beyond means, hell, even against Merlin himself just to ensure the safety and happiness of his godson. 

No one, however, was expecting it to backfire and it caught you and Sirius off guard. Once the tears dried and elation diffused, the anxiety kicked in for Sirius, and in turn you. He knew what the opposite was, parents who robbed their own sons of happy childhoods and disowned him when he got brave enough to find happiness and protect it, he had lived it. And now that he has a chance to save an innocent soul from a similar fate, he was determined, but this fact scared him shitless.

He wanted everything to be perfect (who wouldn’t?) and gave everything he physically could to make James and Lily’s Harry’s life easy and happy. Seeing Sirius buy ‘How to Dad?’ books and pour over them at night or on his free time at work was undoubtedly an attractive and loving sight. In a span of a week, he knew which is the best formula to supplement with breastfeeding, toys to pick that stimulate early brain development, even clothes made with hypoallergenic materials that won’t irritate the sensitive newborn skin. It came to a point where James would ask him for advice when Lily’s at work, and Sirius would put on his trusty reading glasses and point at a specific passage of ‘How to Dad?’ that answers James’ question perfectly. 

Eventually, you did have to put your foot down when you found Sirius writing a howler to a baby food company when rumors started going around that their baby snack puffs (which Harry was obsessed with) had harmful chemicals in it. In typical Sirius fashion, he wasn’t convinced that easily. You’d bet that what pushed him off the howler letter route (and in turn protect the statute of wizarding secrecy) was seeing you spend lots of time in the kitchen to perfect making banana and strawberry baby snack puffs from scratch until the recall was over and the food was deemed safe to be consumed again by experts and Sirius himself. 

Hearing many iterations of how the newborn days and months go by so fast was difficult to believe at times, especially when you and Sirius were babysitting to let the exhausted parents get some sort of reprieve multiple times a month. It was almost always the same. Harry would sleep for four hours straight during the night, and almost hourly right after; and while you and sirius had gotten pretty good at dividing up the tasks like bottle feeding and nappy changes equally, the shrill cry of a hungry baby is difficult to ignore and sleep through. 

So despite of Sirius’s best efforts to crawl out of bed and tip-toe to the bassinet quietly not to wake your sleeping form, he gets sad but unsurprised to see you pad towards him and the baby, yawning soundlessly as you squeeze yourself between the soft armrest and Sirius’s side, head resting on his shoulder. It was his idea to get a spacious, soft recliner in the bedroom and it came in handy for situations like these, where getting back to bed once Harry sleeps is too risky as the boy would just wake up with the slightest movement, so the next best option was to try getting rest wherever you ended up in. The cries that once overpowered Sirius’s hushed whispers and cooing finally quiets down. A sigh of relief leaves both your lips, basking in the comfortable silence and bodies finding solace in each other’s warmth. 

You want to say so many things to your lovely boyfriend, things he just has to hear: that he’s doing such a great job, that you see him and all the extra steps he has to take to become and do better than what he was raised for, that you love him for every single bit of it— but the right words don’t come easy when sleep-deprived and exhausted at 4:25am in the morning. So you lift your lips up to meet his temple, the side of his mouth, then his lips; hoping it’d convey what words couldn’t at the moment. 

But time is an experienced thief. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of May and it was warm enough for you to whip out the frilly spring dresses that had been pushed to the back of your closet by the thick woolen coats from colder months. The boys had gone on a day trip to help Peter move into his first solo apartment, assembling furniture and stocking up on necessities to ensure he could survive on his own. Without the booming voices and bumbling energy of his father and godfather, little Harry had no choice but to match the calm and peaceful ambiance that you and Lily curated inside the Potter house. While it’s certainly different from what his everyday looks like (living with the likes of James), he seems to enjoy it. Gentle breeze from the windows Lily left open while she baked carry the smell of lemons and vanilla throughout the entire house, making it smell heavenly. You’d been sat on the floor by the dining table, surrounded by toy trains and colorful blocks, watching the ten-month-old munch on a toy graphorn adoringly. Recently, he’s been on a phase where he has to run anything he could get his hands on with his mouth. Some secret test or screening must be up there or something because that’s how Harry decides which toys are deserving of his attention for the day.

You’d picked up a toy set of magical creatures after work yesterday, and it won the almost toddler’s attention for the whole day. James had to snatch the toy niffler away from Harry’s grasp so he could say goodbye to his son and ask for a kiss. Safe to say there were no kisses exchanged because the little boy was too busy wailing and screaming at his father’s face. Lily had to create physical distance between her two boys so the younger one can calm down while the older got mopey. Sirius had to whisk his best friend away from the scene of the crime so that they can get on with the day, but not without leaving you a kiss. 

The said niffler had soon been replaced with the hippogriff, then now the graphorn, and it’s been sitting on your lap since. Harry suddenly pulls the toy graphorn out of his mouth with a resounding pop. You both share a second or two of shocked eye contact and silence, his bright green eyes wide with surprise, before triggering a belly flipping laughing fit. This child could shock himself with a sudden burp or an unexpected sound of hitting random things with a fork, and you’d laugh every single time like its the funniest cutest thing you’ve seen in your life. It’s likewise for the rest of the marauders. Being the first baby of the group had all the adults wrapped in his pudgy fingers and he has no idea. 

Harry’s eyes drop from your smiling face to the Niffler on your lap, and makes grabby hands. You almost, almost give in, but you decide to encourage him to go get it himself. Maybe today’s the day he starts to walk. You move to him a bit closer, probably a good seven baby steps in between. 

“You want the Niffler, bud? You have to go get it from me!” You make a show out of grabbing the toy from your lap multiple times, hoping it’d make sense to the little boy. 

He whines something sounding like your name and does more impatient grabby hands. But you weren’t giving up without a fight. “C’mon, Haz! You can do it,” you say enthusiastically. 

Harry did know how to stand and good thing you were both sat near the dining table chairs, so to alleviate some of your aunt guilt you tuck the niffler away and out of Harry’s reach, before helping him up to his feet and urging him to grab one of the chair legs for support. 

He stays upright, eyes still on the toy that you place again on your lap as you return to your original spot, and you clap with glee. “Great job, buddy! Okay, only a few steps to me and you’ll get the toy!”

Lily, curious to see the commotion happening on her kitchen floor, leans against the counter for a better view. Harry sees this and does the same thing, he looks at her pleadingly while making grabby hands and pointing to the niffler on your lap. You can tell the redhead’s fighting the mom urge to make her child’s life easier, but thank the heavens when she gives your same answer. She even moves to kneel beside you, waving to get her son’s attention and pointing at the niffler on your lap.

“C’mon, my sweet boy,” Lily says. “Mama knows you can do it!”

Motivated by frustration as his aunt and own mother won’t just hand him his goddamn toy, Harry whines angrily but makes a sideways step closer, death grip still on one of the chair legs. You and Lily squeal and clap in delight, urging the boy to do it again.

He makes a move for another step, but realizes that there’s no more legs to grab onto. Reluctantly, his right hand lets go and in turn faces you and Lily. This results in another round of applause, which serves like a drug to these little babies. 

An anxious expression fleetingly appears on his face as he looks to you both, but the encouragement and cooing seemed to scare those big feelings away. Determined, Harry makes an unsure step forward without support, which then makes both yours and Lily’s heartbeat jump. It all happened so quick, the fear of losing balance triggered Harry’s other leg catch him on impulse, then the same on the other leg, then the other. Harry’d made four successful steps on his own before his mom catches him in her embrace before he topples over to the floor.

You and Lily were a sobbing, exultant mess. Harry, clearly confused about the commotion, whines for the niffler while Lily kisses him all over his face. You hand it to his waiting palms like a trophy before ruffling his unruly hair.  An attempt for words has been made, but all that came from your mouth are garbled phrases about the miracle that just happened. Lily nods in agreement and you hug them both back. 

This ten-month old just walked. This is the same baby that kept you and Sirius up at night for his feedings. The same baby responsible for the drool and spit up marks on your shirts. The same baby that  laughs and babbles with you like he understands when you tell him random stories. The same baby that squeals in delight when you blow raspberries on his belly. 

It felt like he had just been born a few days ago, memories of changing hundreds of nappies and preparing bottles of milk still vivid in your mind. But it’s earth shattering to consider that he’s closer to being a one year old than to the little bundle handed to you by James in the hospital room. 

Time is unrelenting, stealing mundane moments behind your back and when you realize the loss, poof! The newborn you held in your arms is now a walking toddler. Soon, he’ll be the one talking your ears off, going to Hogwarts, driving a car.. You shiver at the thought. He was growing up so fast that blinking felt like cheating, afraid that you’ll miss a precious moment that you’ll never get back. 

His first birthday came in the same manner— too fast for both yours and Sirius’s liking, but the wistful feelings came with excitement as Harry being a toddler opened up lots more opportunities to play and discover the world around him. James and Lily had spent the whole month planning a big birthday bash to celebrate the kiddo’s life, inviting all their loved ones to share the special day with them. And with that, the pressure was on for Sirius, as the self-proclaimed best godfather to get the perfect first birthday gift.

It’s like the heavens knew it was a special day for you both that it made sure to put out the best shopping weather one could ever ask for—- not too warm or too cold. It was a Tuesday afternoon, which meant the adults were kept in workplaces and children sent to Hogwarts or in homeschooling, leaving Diagon Alley nearly deserted, minus the occasional stray shoppers entering and leaving shops here and there. Clad in color coordinated couples outfits (that was your thing recently, Sirius more than happy to oblige) and hand in hand, you begin the mission to locate Spintwitches Sporting Needs. 

Nostalgia always finds a way to seep into your bones whenever you find yourself in Diagon Alley. One blink and suddenly you’re ten again, both hands tucked in each parent’s as your mom pours over the list of school supplies you’ll need again for your first year at Hogwarts. You and Sirius see Ollivanders at a short distance and hear the entrance bell chime, the very same sound you heard when entering the shop for the first time, the shopkeeper taking one good look at you before immediately rummaging around the store, grabbing a specific box located on a random shelf four stories up. The look of confidence when he says it’s made just for you, a magical glow enveloping your tiny frame while opening the magenta box. That same magic guided you to a world where you truly belonged in, a castle that felt so much like home, and friends that soon became found family and lifelong partners. The thought of Harry soon experiencing these moments leaves a giddy feeling in your chest. 

The smoky sweet scent of freshly roasted chestnuts catches your attention and you discreetly look for the source of your favorite warm snack. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sirius (hardly nothing ever does, even the things you wish he’d miss or forget), and he gives your hand a small tug. You try to be aloof as you return his waiting gaze, complete with a quirk of your eyebrow, to which he responds with an impish smirk towards your bad acting.

“You’re not fooling anyone with that look, sweets.” The amusement in his voice is palpable as he steers you away from the main walkway and towards the small chestnut stall tucked in an alleyway, almost hidden by the bigger shops surrounding it.

“But, the store’s right there, Siri,” you try to protest. He had been anxious and stressed out about this day in particular, you knew if you were in his shoes, you’d be beelining to the store as soon as you get off the car. But he just shakes his head like its the obvious choice and nods towards the cart. “Can’t have my girl hungry now.” 

After a failed attempt of trying to pay for the warm brown bag (you were no match for Sirius’s lithe, agile fingers in basically everything), you accept it with a sigh, giving yourself a few seconds to sulk before starting on the chestnuts. You weren’t the best at accepting things from other people just because, it always felt like you had to do something in return for them just to deserve it. Maybe that’s why the universe conspired to have you meet and fall for Sirius, who is a very enthusiastic giver, teaching you hard lessons on the daily.

As you begin the journey back to the shop, you carefully crack open one and hold it up to Sirius’s mouth, to which he happily obliged. “Mm, somehow chestnuts taste better when you handfeed me, dove. Do it again.”

You roll your eyes in response, but you find your fingers starting to peel another. “You’re lucky you’re good looking, Black,” you mutter to save some face, that you weren’t head over heels for this man and he to you. That’s a conversation to be had in another, less stressful day. 

The shop, painted electric blue and orange, wasn’t hard to miss. One step in and the welcoming aroma of broom polish, rubber, and smoky wood brings you right back to the Quidditch locker rooms; memories of frantically lacing up your boots a minute or two after James called you as backup for an injured beater, helping Marlene comb out the tail end to fix the broom alignment after practice, and getting pinned to the cool lockers during post-win celebratory makeout sessions with Sirius, replaying vividly in your head. 

It looked deceivingly small on the outside; aside from the expansive selection of different broomstick models, they had books and magazines about Quidditch strategies and featured famous matches, repair and maintenance kits for maintaining broomstick qualities, complete Quidditch gear for all shapes and sizes, and tiny practice snitches flying around the room. Squint and it’ll just be like how each Hogwarts common room would be decorated when there’s a big Quidditch match between houses or international ones in the world cup: streamers and accessories like horns and banners representing each team, posters of Chudley Cannons and Holyhead Harpies (in opposing corners to prevent unsolicited fights) accompanied by autographs of famous players and collectibles littering almost every surface of the walls. It was Quidditch dreamland. 

Still in awe admiring the displays as you both walk through aisles hand in hand, Sirius breaks the silence first. “What do you think Harry will play as in Quidditch?”

You hum in response and he continues, running his hands through the bat display they had for little kids.  “I bet he’d be a beater like me. You remember how that punk hit me straight on the face last week?” 

You nod in amusement. Sirius had played it cool as he gently laid Harry back in his playpen, still laughing and cooing, then as soon as little Harry turned his back on his uncle, Sirius ran to you for first aid and whined the whole time you were healing the already forming bruise. But not a few hours later, he’s bouncing the baby in his arms again as he gave him a tour of the backyard. 

“Yeah, those little fists definitely pack a punch.”

“How about you, love?”

Sifting through a year’s worth of memories, it was surprisingly easy to find your answer. “I think he’ll follow James’s footsteps and be a seeker.” 

Sirius’s pout becomes evident, making you giggle and tug on his arm in efforts to cheer him up. “Think about it. Ever since prongslet got those glasses, it’s harder to hide anything from him now because his eyes are so quick. Poor Crookshanks too, that cat can’t catch a break now when Haz wants to play because he tracks its movements.” 

Sirius lets out a soft chuckle and slings his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer. “Good point, good point,” he repeats, seemingly deep in thought as his fingers run up and down the small of your arm. “We shall see, whatever he decides to play as, or if he even plays at all, I’ll be proud of him.”

You look up to him as he absentmindedly stares at the Quidditch gear sets for little kids, a light, wistful smile on his handsome features. He might not say it out loud, but the love he has for his godson reverberates through his being, and its a warming sight to see. 

Before you confess your love for your boyfriend in the middle of a Quidditch store, you whisk him away and towards the toy broom display, the only thing you were both here for. Only the big bright signs directed you to the right place, which didn’t prepare you at all for the heart exploding sight.

You’re about to burst into tears seeing how cute and tiny the little toy brooms were, and how they came in complete with tiny versions of the headlights, seats, and bag compartments the usual adult broom comes with. Both you and Sirius stood with mouths agape for a solid minute as you took in the expansive display, before your lovely boyfriend proceeds to pick out the most expensive one with the most features on it from the batch.

Surprisingly, it was you who reminded him to grab a helmet before running off to purchase the toy broom, the giddiness and excitement spreading between the two of you. The cashier gives both of you a knowing look as you and Sirius both mellowed down from full giggles to bashful smiles, examines the broom to be purchased, and asks, “For your little one?”

Now, you were no stranger to conversations like these with former lovers in the past, and you could almost hear the typical response of denial that comes swiftly with the question. It used to hurt, even if you knew by heart that that person didn’t have the fifth date potential or that it just wouldn’t last. It’s that unexplainable feeling of shame and rejection when they’d realize that it won’t work with you before you would, or if they answer with a laugh, as if having a future with you is an appalling thought. You’ve gotten better with it throughout the years, but for some reason your skin crawls with the thought of Sirius saying the same things. Years of desensitization down the drain, you find yourself bearing your entire soul to the man beside you the entire relationship, and he can easily break you into two with his response. You cross your fingers that he won’t.

He was already looking when your gaze met his, a look of softness and tenderness from him so profound you wondered if you were deserving of it. The surge of butterflies in your belly was all consuming. 

Sirius shifts uneasily and shakes his head, you prepare for the worst. “For our nephew, not for our own child..,” he pauses, glancing back at you for a quick second. “Yet. But if all goes according to my sneaky plan, we might be back sooner than she thinks.”

The cashier chuckles at your stunned reaction as you shift your focus between him and your boyfriend who was both furiously blushing and actively avoiding your stare. Did you just get a marriage proposal? 

Taking advantage of your confusion, Sirius pays for everything including the gift wrapping, which you had previously argued about who was responsible paying (you won, not that that matters now). You let him tug your arm and guide you out of the store, saying a quick thank you to the amused cashier. The influx of butterflies were back, tickling your insides and spreading warmth in each crevice. Just seeing Sirius handle the rambunctious mini James with care and glee, makes it so easy for you to imagine a life with him, and eventually have a little bean that’s equal parts of you and him. You hope they’d get the best parts of both.

No one brings it up as you began your journey back to the car and you’re grateful. Gift bag swinging on your arm, you drag Sirius to go get ice cream to which he happily obliges. 

A gentle quiet settles on accomplished shoulders like a warm blanket as you settle in the car. Strawberry and vanilla fudge ice cream sticky sweet on each other’s lips as you exchange cones every once in a while. It would be enough to lull you to sleep, if not for Sirius’s deep breaths and sighs, the thundering of his heart that he tries to quell by discreetly scratching a small part of the steering wheel where his thumb usually lay. 

He breaks the silence first, an uneasy tone making his voice seem small. “Do you think he’ll like it, dove?”

“Yes, Siri. I know he’ll love it.” You try your best to enunciate the right words, but a conflicted expression marrs his handsome features, sending a twinge to your heart. 

It comes to you before he speaks. This was something that had been plaguing Sirius’s mind for a while, occupying his dreams and thoughts, embedding itself to his mind and causing unwarranted amounts of stress. You resist the urge to fill in the blanks for him because it has to come from him and him only. 

But after everything he’s been through, what seems easy for most sometimes is the hardest to muster. “Siri,” you pause, waiting until he looks up at you and you keep his gaze. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

His gray orbs still before the dam breaks. “I’m sorry, love.” He chokes. “If I’m being so difficult, irky, irritated, anxious, everything.”

Hot tears run down his cheeks and it’s a painful watch. wanting nothing but to wipe it off and tuck him in your embrace and promise him he won’t be hurt as long as you’re there, but you can’t. The best thing you could do for him is to let it all out and finally feel.

He stares ahead on the city road with fingers trembling on the wheel. “I’m just so scared. So scared. James and Lily have been amazing parents, I can’t say same thing for myself but I try my best. Sometimes I still feel like he deserves someone better to be his godfather,” he sobs. “I just love him so much. I want only the best for him. I just want him to be happy and healthy all the time.”

After a while, you say with a bittersweet tone. “You know we can’t promise that, Siri,” you sigh. “Storms will come and will do damage and hurt and things that we can’t undo,” you pause, sniffling as you take your right hand to guide him to face you again, vulnerable gray eyes meeting yours. “But you know what?”

You give him an assuring smile, speaking the truth. “He’s gonna be alright because little as he is right now, he is so loved and adored by so many people, so loved by his parents. And so loved by his godfather.”

It wasn’t said aloud, it doesn’t need to. Loud as it could be, Sirius knows what you’re about to say; that his ability to love despite of everything he’s been through, despite of his own family ruthlessly trying to rob him of the ability to do so. That’s the type of love that Sirius gives, a love that withstands rain and abandonment; a love that stays after a rough storm, offering a home always open to go to when times are rough and feelings are still hurt; a love that tells the truth even when its hardest to hear. 

You know all this as an easy fact because you’re at the receiving end. Even if you hadn’t heard it from his lips yet.

“Have I told you I love you?”

A watery smile spreads on your face as you shake your head. “No, but i feel it everyday.”

“I love you, Y/N.” It leaves his lips like breaths, naturally and easily. 

It’s the same thing for you, too. “I love you too, Siri.” 

And it ends with sticky kisses that taste of vanilla fudge and berries.

#siriusblack #sirius black one shot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black blurb #sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black fic #sirius black x black!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius x reader #marauders era #marauders fluff #dad!marauders #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp marauders #jily fic #sirius black

[unsoundedcomic]

Genuine praise and applause here, you've achieved something unprecedented to me as a reader: I feel shaken and uncertain about a protagonist I once liked, but also still completely invested in their story.

Right now (I've just read 18-80 to 84) I feel you've struck a great balance of surprise (at Duane) and trust (in your story). Perhaps because no single choice of Duane's felt out-of-character, as they slowly added up? I honestly can't predict how I'll feel about him and his flaws by the end of Unsounded, but for once, I'm enjoying that unease! Because of the care you've taken in building your characters so far, I at least still have faith in *you* to reach a satisfying ending.

Oh this should be a question, hmm. Were you at all tempted to foreshadow Duane's recent/future choices more obviously (by character or plot), softening a bit of the impact for a smoother story? Because again, I'm glad you didn't – perfectly threaded needle to keep me captivated.

So glad you're having a good time!

I hope Duane's current state is pretty well telegraphed, though I know it can be hard to remember past instances when the webcomic delivery spaces everything out. He's repeatedly shown himself to be hypocritical and selective in regards to kids. The army story ended with him continuing to train babies in the killing arts and accepting a false narrative that he had never let one of them die. This led right into him turning a blind eye to the Litriya twins for the sake of helping the Aldish invaders get to the construct facility. He felt AWFUL about this - we saw it - and tried to make up for it, but even that very action was already going against what was said in the black water: God is not attainable by transaction. Duane was trying to erase that debt to Litriya. It doesn't work that way! Like Claggart said, you got to acknowledge your mistakes and keep moving.

Duane started to. He truly did, when he spoke to Lori and the Peaceguard, then moved to go defend the shrine. But then Mikaila was there in the sky and all development was cut short in tandem with his poor rotten head.

What did he see when he and Toma and Elka approached Port Morstorben's ravaged gate? Not all the dead bodies. Not a vision of Sara asking him to help defend her people. Instead Duane saw Lemuel and Leysa and Mikaila. The eels have always known exactly how to steer Duane towards his worst self, and they use his best self to do it. They use his blind love for his family, his loyalty towards his homeland, and his faith in God. These can all be fantastic attributes or they can make a monster.

So yeah, I feel like the foreshadowing is there pretty thick. What makes it still compelling, I hope, is Duane's selfishness and reluctance to change are so often counterbalanced by his earnest desire to make things better and to help the people around him as individuals, in the moment. There's not an ounce of real malice in the man, but when Duane stews, he often talks himself into making the wrong choice. When he acts with all the compulsion of a big-hearted protector, he tends towards selfless compassion.

[lau219]

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Part 9

Previous part here

**Warning: mature sexual content. 18+ ONLY! Minors, DNI!!!**

…………………………………………………………………………….

“I’ll give this to your dad, and he can sign it for you,” Y/N said as she took the slip of paper from Max while he sat in one of the barstools at her kitchen island. It was another permission slip for something, and he’d asked Y/N to sign it as he’d pulled it out of his backpack.

“Can’t you just sign it?” Max asked her.

“I would, honey,” she replied. “But only moms or dads are supposed to do that.”

“You’re kind of like our mom,” he responded without missing a beat.

Upon hearing that, Y/N had to turn away from him, sudden tears nearly escaping her eyes as she digested the incredibly sweet and innocent way he’d said that, not realizing it was such a weighted statement. The fact that Max saw her that way was unbelievably touching and also a little shocking.

Collecting herself, Y/N turned back around.

“I’ll make sure your dad signs it, ok?” she said to him.

“Ok,” he agreed, sliding off the stool and heading outside.

Now alone, Y/N’s thoughts traveled to Emmett. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about their evening together at her house, or their flirtatious exchange several days later, but since then, Emmett hadn’t taken any action or said anything else to her to further hint that he was in fact interested in her that way. He wasn’t acting cold, per se, but whatever had come out during those times, he’d clearly tucked it back away, and she wondered why.

Had he simply gotten caught up in the moment, but wasn’t actually feeling what she was feeling? Or maybe he had been interested, but after further consideration, realized that she wasn’t what he wanted. She guessed that that was likely the case, and she felt the familiar pain of rejection and practiced the trademark self-criticism she put herself through often.

She reprimanded herself, telling herself that she shouldn’t be so surprised, but it didn’t make the sting any less painful. She had thought that she and Emmett were maybe going somewhere, that their connection was palpable and that maybe she could have with him what she’d always wanted.

​But then again, maybe it was for the best, anyways, she thought. As unbelievably touching as it was, it could be a problem if Max and Henry were starting to see her as a mother figure, because she and Emmett weren’t in a relationship, and she didn’t want them feeling confused or for Emmett to feel like she was overstepping in any way.

​Before she could give it anymore thought, her phone dinged, and she saw that she had a text message from Stacy.

​Hey girl, any chance you’re interested in a set up? I know this guy from work who I think you’d hit it off with. He wants to take you out.

​Y/N hesitated for a moment, surprised by the idea. Why did it feel like some sort of betrayal to Emmett if she said yes to Stacy’s offer? But then, she reminded herself that she and Emmett weren’t actually involved in any way, and since Emmett obviously wasn’t interested, why shouldn’t she try and move on? Deep down, she knew the date wouldn’t be anything that would develop – reciprocated or not, she had feelings for Emmett. But, it couldn’t hurt to try and distract herself while she worked to make those feelings go away. Before she could talk herself out of it, she sent a response to Stacy.

​

•.•.•.•.•

“So, what’s the latest story with you and Y/N? Anything happen there yet?”

Stacy was leaning against the bench at Emmett’s shop as she waited for him to finish the task he was currently working on. She’d dropped by to bring him something to eat during her lunch hour, something she occasionally did in order to give them a chance to catch up. As he heard her question, Emmett stopped what he was doing and looked over at her.

“Is that the real reason you came by? To stick your nose in my business?” he asked.

“I’m just trying to understand why you haven’t made a move there yet,” Stacy replied. “With this little arrangement you have, you guys are practically functioning like a couple anyways. Why not just add in the sex and make it official?”

Emmett shot her a look.

“If you think I’m going to talk to you about my sex life, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Stacy snorted.

“We’re talking about you finally having a sex life again,” she retorted. “And from the chemistry I’ve picked up on between you and Y/N, it looks like it could be damn good.”

Emmett shot her another look.

“Well, thanks for dropping by,” he said as he pointed to the door.

“Oh, come on!” Stacy said. “I’m just trying to understand why you won’t do anything about it. You clearly have feelings for her. I can tell whenever you talk about what the boys have been up to with her. And she obviously feels the same – I see it every time I run into her.”

“How much do I need to pay you for you to let this go?” Emmett asked as he washed his hands at the sink beside the counter.

“I can’t be bought off,” Stacy replied.

After moving over to the bench and leaning against it next to Stacy, Emmett crossed his arms and let out a deep breath.

“She’s fragile,” he said. “She’s been hurt and treated poorly, and it clearly still affects her. I don’t know that she’s ready for another relationship, or whatever.”

It was true. After their most recent encounters, Emmett couldn’t get Y/N off his mind. But after he’d had more time to think about it, he realized that maybe she was still too raw from her previous relationship. She still could get so defensive, and although that didn’t bother him, now that he understood why, maybe it was a sign that she wasn’t ready for anything, that she still needed more time.

“You of all people should know that self-doubt is something that’s not easy to shake,” Stacy replied. “But that doesn’t mean that someone isn’t open and available for a connection. And you two clearly have that.”

Emmett scrubbed his hand over his jaw.

“I don’t want her to do anything she’s not ready to do,” he said.

Stacy turned and looked at him.

“I think you’re underestimating her,” she said. “And you both deserve to be happy.”

After a few moments of silence, Emmett turned and grabbed the bag of food Stacy had brought with her off the bench. After looking inside, he spoke.

“What would make me happy is if you could for once get the food order right.”

•.•.•.•.•

Leaving Emmett’s shop, Stacy paused before starting her car in order to send Y/N a message. If Emmett wasn’t going to make things happen, then she’d have to step in. Of course, she admired his desire to be respectful of Y/N and not want to pressure her, but he also could be so sure that he had things figured out, when in fact, he was wrong. She also knew that Y/N had a habit of trying to distract herself when things weren’t going great – she remembered Y/N telling her about all the ridiculous hobbies she tried to pick up after she first got divorced. She was fairly certain Y/N would agree to a blind date to try and forget about Emmett, and it would be just enough for Emmett to get jealous enough to do something. Smiling to herself, Stacy sent Y/N a message, and her smile grew bigger as she read Y/N’s response.

Sure, I’m game. When and where?

________________________

A week later, Y/N was busy going over a bunch of lists of picnic supplies, potluck sign-ups, and RSVPs. The neighborhood’s annual block party was that weekend, and she had volunteered to help organize it, along with several of the other neighbors. It was yet another distraction from Emmett, which she welcomed when they’d asked her if she wanted to help.

​Things between them were still friendly and positive, but they hadn’t had any more intimate interactions since the previous couple weeks. She tried not to dwell on it as she picked up her phone and began calling everyone who hadn’t yet RSVPd for the block party. Distraction was the name of the game, and if that meant figuring out how many picnic tables they’d need and how much potato salad it would take to feed 80 people, then dammit, she’d do it.

•.•.•.•.•

​The day of the block party came, and everything had been going off without a hitch. Y/N and some of the other neighbors had been dashing around to make sure that everything was taken care of, and when things had finally settled after the first couple of hours and everything was flowing nicely, she finally had a chance to just relax and enjoy the company of everyone.

​She and Emmett had met eyes a few times throughout the party, but they had yet to actually connect, and maybe that was for the best. She shouldn’t try to insert herself more than was natural if he wasn’t feeling what she was.

God, he made it hard, though. He was his signature charming self as she watched him talking and laughing with neighbors while also occasionally checking on Henry and Max as they ran around and played. He got roped into a game of Dads vs. Kids kickball, but it was the slow dance he was forced into with a 90-year-old neighbor lady when the music started that made Y/N unable to stop grinning. She gave him a sympathetic smile when he looked up and their eyes met across the sidewalk, and when he shrugged his shoulders at her helplessly, Y/N laughed before shaking her head and resuming her conversation at the picnic table.

Finally escaping the arms of his elderly neighbor, Emmett made his way back to the table he’d been sitting at with several other guys from the neighborhood and resumed talking. But shortly, he was distracted as he picked up his drink and saw Y/N move to another table out of the corner of his eye. She began chatting with the women at the table, and he watched her warmly smile at the others and laugh, her beautiful face glowing and her sweetness tangible. He had a hard time keeping himself from getting up and going to her.

She then shifted in her seat, and Emmett found himself unable to look away as another neighbor suddenly came up to Y/N and carefully passed her the bundled up baby she was holding in her arms. Her expression indescribable, Y/N’s entire focus shifted to the baby, and something stirred in Emmett as he watched her lovingly hold it as she kept talking to the mother. Suddenly, an image of Y/N – glowing and pregnant with his baby – entered his mind, and it took him a moment to get the picture out of his head.

Sensing someone watching her, Y/N turned her head and met Emmett’s eyes, and when she did, her heart skipped a beat as she met his smile with one of her own.

A little while later, as people were having dessert and the kids were running around the street with sparklers, Y/N grabbed a trash bag and began weaving among the tables as she collected empty soda cans and drink bottles. As she dropped a few into the bag, she suddenly heard Emmett behind her.

“Are you collecting those to use on me later?”

Smiling, Y/N turned around to face him, holding a bottle in her hand.

“Maybe,” she said, and then dramatically dropped the bottle into the bag. As it made a clinking sound, she smiled again. “Never hurts to stock up.”

Emmett smiled.

“I thought I’d finally gotten on your good side,” he teased her.

Regardless of the idea that he didn’t share her feelings, Y/N couldn’t help but to flirt back. He made it so irresistible, even if he didn’t mean anything behind it.

“Yeah, but I doubt you’ll stay there long,” she said.

Emmett was itching to grab her, but before either of them could say anything else, someone called Y/N’s name and told her they needed more napkins and plates for dessert.

“Here, make yourself useful,” Y/N said to Emmett as she passed him the trash bag. Then she gave him a final smile before heading towards her house.

Y/N ran inside her kitchen to grab more of the paper plates and napkins that had been stored at her house for the party. As she was moving around the kitchen, she heard her back door open and saw Stacy come inside as she looked up.

Stacy had come to the party with her own kids to join in on the fun, and she offered to help Y/N as she entered her kitchen. She had a little probing to do, and wanted to get confirmation straight from Y/N about her suspicions after witnessing what had just happened between her and Emmett.

“Oh, that’s ok, I’ve got it,” Y/N replied to her offer to help. “So how are you?”

“Good,” Stacy replied as she leaned against the island. “Really good. I’m so happy about you and Emmett, by the way.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she abruptly lifted her head and looked at Stacy.

​“What do you mean?” she asked, cocking her head. “What about us?”

​“The two of you finally getting together,” Stacy prompted, waving her hand in the air for clarity. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to make a big deal of it; I can see that you’re keeping it quiet. But I’m so glad.”

​Y/N shifted her weight to her other foot, then slowly shook her head. “Stacy, we’re not together,” she said.

​“You’re not?”

​“No.” Y/N shook her head again.

​“Really? But you two…it seemed so obvious.”

​“How so?”

​“Well, just the way you behave around each other,” Stacy explained. “I noticed it a long time ago.” She smiled almost mischievously. “It’s subtle enough, but anyone looking closely can clearly see what’s between you two.”

​Y/N blushed and shook her head.

​“Since I started helping with the boys, Emmett and I have gotten to know each other better and, because of that, become closer. But friendship is all it is.”

​She couldn’t disguise the disappointment on her face as she said that, which Stacy noticed.

“Well, you could have fooled me,” she replied. She then pushed herself off of the counter and folded her arms as she eyed Y/N quizzically.

​“Can you honestly say that you don’t have feelings for him?” Stacy asked her.

​Y/N drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. She looked distractedly at the countertop and mindlessly ruffled the paper napkins.

​“Even if I did,” she said quietly. “I don’t think he feels the same way.”

​“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Stacy replied. “He can be stubborn, is all.”

​“Well, regardless, it’s a tricky situation,” Y/N said. “Even if he did feel the same way, which I don’t think he does, I don’t want to cause any confusion for Max and Henry.”

​“They’d see that you and their dad care about each other,” Stacy countered. “What’s confusing about that?”

“I’m not their mother,” Y/N replied.

“You’re more of a mother to them than their actual mother ever was.”

Y/N frowned.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said.

Stacy stood up straighter, not addressing her previous statement any further.

“So, there’s nothing going on between you two?” she asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head.

“Ok, so then do you still want to meet Sam? I told him you’re free next Friday. I think you guys will hit it off.”

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N replied. She tried to look excited.

“Great! I’ll tell him it’s on.”

Heading back outside, Stacy found Emmett at one of the tables gathering empty cans, and she spoke as she walked up beside him.

“Next Friday, you can plan on the boys being at my house after camp,” she said to him. “Y/N won’t be able to watch them if you have to work late, so they can come to my house.”

Emmett turned to her.

“What do you mean? How do you know that?”

“She’s got plans; she just told me.”

“With you?” Emmett asked.

“No,” Stacy shook her head. “She’s got a date. I set her up with this guy from my work and she agreed to go out with him.”

Upon hearing that, Emmett suddenly tensed.

“You did what?” he asked as he frowned.

“I asked her if she wanted to be set up with a guy from my job, and she said yes. I figured it was fine since you guys aren’t involved. If she’s ready to date, then what’s the harm?”

Emmett felt himself getting angry, which wasn’t a frequent occurrence. The idea of another guy taking Y/N out and getting cozy with her was not something he liked at all. Clearly, if she agreed to the date, she was open to a possible relationship, and whatever was between the two of them wasn’t enough to stop her from taking Stacy up on her offer. He glared at her.

“You need to learn to mind your own business,” he said. He then shoved the trash bag he was holding into her hands and headed toward Y/N’s house.

As Emmett made his way around the back of the house, he could hear Y/N moving around in her kitchen. As he opened the door and headed up the steps, she spoke.

“Hey, Stacy, can you grab these – oh, hi.”

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Emmett standing in the doorway, and he didn’t look happy.

“Is everything ok?” she asked him as she fully turned around.

Emmett stepped further into the kitchen, still looking at her.

“It sounds like it is for you,” he answered her.

“Huh?” she furrowed her brow.

“Stacy told me about your plans next Friday,” he said. “Didn’t think to check with me first?”

Y/N looked back at him confusedly.

“Ummm, I didn’t think it’d be a problem, since she offered to come by and get the boys and watch them at her place.”

“So, you thought you could just plan that without telling me?”

Y/N eyed him warily. They weren’t involved, so what made him think he had any say in anything she did?

“I didn’t think I needed your permission to make personal plans,” she said. “Especially when they have nothing to do with you.”

Emmett glared.

“You should have asked me first.”

At that, Y/N’s expression changed to one of annoyed disbelief, and she put her hands on her hips as she spoke again.

“Last I checked, you’re not in charge of my social life.”

“Someone ought to be in charge of you,” Emmett said as he stepped closer.

Y/N’s heart rate began to speed up. Where was this coming from?

“You clearly want nothing to do with me, so what do you care?” she asked him defensively. “Why are you getting so mad?”

“Why are you being such a brat?” he replied.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Scoffing, Y/N shook her head and pointed to the door.

“Get out,” she said to him.

“Make me,” he replied.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N took a step closer to him and made to shove him, but when she lifted her arms, Emmett grabbed her wrists and held her still. Their eyes locked for just a second before he roughly pulled her closer and their lips crashed together in an angry kiss.

Y/N tried to pull her wrists from Emmett’s grip, but he only moved his lips more forcefully against hers and pushed her backwards, her lower back meeting the edge of the island as she made a whimpering sound. Her heart racing, she tried once more with all her strength to pull her wrists out of his grasp, and when she did, she immediately flung her arms around his neck instead, pulling him closer as he planted his hands on her hips. Leaning forward even more, Emmett inserted his knee between her legs, and he heard her make a noise as the fabric of his pants brushed against the bare skin of her thighs under her skirt. He pulled away from her mouth and their eyes met again for a moment before he raised his hands slightly higher on her sides and gripped her torso, picking her up and lifting her onto the island top in front of him. He then roughly pulled her legs apart and planted himself between them again before grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her face to his once more.

Y/N moaned as their lips met again, and her hands immediately reached for his shoulders. She gripped his shirt as he encouraged her to scoot closer to the edge of the counter, and when he violently squeezed her ass as he pulled her to him, she gripped his shoulders and sank her nails into his skin in response as a surprised and mildly pained squeak escaped her.

Emmett pulled away from her mouth, looking at her again before dropping his head in the crook of her neck and kissing her there as he spoke.

“You’re such a brat,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Always such a Goddamn handful.” He kissed her neck again and slipped his hands under her skirt, pushing it up around her hips.

“You’re a jerk,” she replied as she lifted her hands and tried to unbutton his shirt. She only got two or three undone before Emmett grabbed her hands and pulled them down, pressing her palms against the counter and holding them there.

“Be quiet,” he told her, and then she turned her head to meet his lips once again, leaning into him as he released her hands.

Y/N glided her palms up his front and then dragged her fingers across his chest as Emmett shoved her skirt out of the way once more. He then reached up and pulled her hands away from him, forcing his own hands between them and cupping her breasts through her tank top. As he squeezed her, Y/N moaned into his mouth, grabbing the sides of his face and keeping him close as he pinched her nipples. When she whimpered again, Emmett lowered his hands from her breasts to her hips, hooking his fingers in the hem of her panties. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and quickly lifted her up to tug them off. They slid down her legs and off her, falling to the floor, and they kissed again as Y/N’s hands brushed with Emmett’s as they both fought to open his pants. Y/N could feel how hard he was as she slid her palm over him, and her heart skipped a beat as Emmett groaned at her touch. But quickly, he pushed her hand out of the way, still kissing her as he drew himself out of his briefs and then roughly pulled Y/N the last bit to the edge of the counter to bring her as close as possible. In one swift movement, he entered her, and Y/N wrenched her lips from his and released an unbelievably sexy whine before wrapping her legs around Emmett’s waist. She gripped his shoulders again and her head fell forward against him as she felt him push deeper inside her.

Emmett groaned as he felt her walls clamp around him, and the sound of her little gasps as he began to move in and out of her were so insanely sexy that he couldn’t think straight.

“Not so sassy now, are you, princess?” he said lowly as he thrusted in and out of her again. “Hmm?”

“You’re...you’re a jerk,” Y/N breathed out again as her body rocked back and forth with his. But when Emmett responded by reaching down and pinching her clit between his thumb and forefinger, she couldn’t do anything else except let out a small cry. She gripped his shoulders tighter, but he quickly pulled her away from him and pushed her back against the island instead, now fully reclined as her back met the countertop.

Gripping her hips, Emmett looked down at her and their eyes met. It didn’t last long, though, as Y/N almost immediately squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure as Emmett picked up his pace, thrusting even harder in and out of her. When she squirmed on the counter, Emmett swiped his fingers over her clit again. She immediately arched her back and her walls clamped down in response, and Emmett’s mind became even foggier as he felt her tightening around him. But it was when she said his name that he lost it completely.

“Emmett...” she breathed out in barely a whisper, and with a few final repeated strokes to her clit, she came with a silent scream, her mouth falling open but no sound escaping. Emmett wasn’t able to stay quite as quiet as he followed immediately after her, groaning as he came before finally halting his movements as he leaned forward over her on the island, bracing himself with his forearms along her thighs as he rested his forehead on her stomach.

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/N stared up at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath, vaguely aware of the party still going on outside. She could feel Emmett’s own strained breaths against her stomach, but she had no idea how to even process what had just happened between them.

There wasn’t any time to do so, however, as she suddenly heard one of the neighbors calling for her through the open window towards the front of the house, and when they heard footsteps coming towards her back door, Y/N quickly lifted herself up and shoved Emmett aside, jumping off the island and scrambling to step back into her panties as Emmett quickly zipped up his pants. When the neighbor called to her from the door again about needing her help with something, Y/N swallowed drily and then answered.

“I’ll be right there!” she called back.

Straightening her skirt, Y/N still couldn’t even process what had just happened. Instead, she looked over her shoulder at Emmett but said nothing when their eyes met, and before he could speak, Y/N turned and went down the steps and out the back door, leaving without a word and completely avoiding him for the rest of the night.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @natalie--rushman @hannibellector @febris-amatoria

@devotedlyshadowytheorist @fuseburner @neonpurplestars89-blog @beastofburdenxo @aphroditeslover11

@alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @garrison-girl-08

#emmett x female reader #emmet a quiet place x reader #emmett a quiet place 2 #emmett a quiet place #emmett fic #emmett smut #18+ only #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian smut

[cripplecharacters]

How would I go about portraying an autistic character in a world where there wouldn’t be the terminology for that sort of thing? It’s a fantasy novel that mostly surrounds fairies, and I’m considering having her family think she’s a changeling (something I know has ableist roots and could be shown to be wrong as she’s just an autistic human)

Hello, thanks for your question!

Using pretty direct Autistic coding would be your best bet for making the character as obviously Autistic as possible without having the in-world terminology for it. This could include showing the character stimming, having distinct speech patterns from the rest of the cast, experiencing shutdowns or meltdowns when relevant, fixating on particular interests, keeping a regular routine (and getting upset when it's disrupted), and reacting more strongly to sensory input than the rest of the cast, among other things. Readers who are Autistic or otherwise familiar with Autism will probably clue in quite quickly if you depict these kinds of traits.

While the idea of changelings being equated with disabilities--and Autism in particular--has grown in popularity over the past decade, I would still advise a lot of caution in associating Autistic characters with changelings. While some Autistic people (especially those of us outside of Europe where changelings originated) do identify with changelings due to feeling othered by society, many of us don't because of the negative context of the original changeling stories. I feel that the real-world history behind the stories should be taken into serious consideration before drawing any direct parallels between disabled people and changelings.

Though it's absolutely plausible that the changeling stories did potentially originate as ways to explain the presence and development of disabilities in children as many theories argue, the changeling stories themselves don't frame changelings in a positive or even neutral light--changelings are creatures you absolutely do not want in your home or family and are seen as undeserving burdens on a family's hard-earned resources. There are documented historical instances of people--adults and children alike--being beaten, abused or murdered just on suspicion of having been changelings. I feel that this context is often lost outside of Europe, as we don't always realize that changelings were taken very seriously, especially in rural communities, and were not just harmless bedtime stories.

Because of this, I would suggest that, if you go the changeling route, you take the time and effort to portray it as a particularly dehumanizing and potentially dangerous form of ableism, and approach the subject with delicacy. Otherwise, if your portrayal of fairies in your story is not negative the way they tend to be when associated with creatures like changelings, you could keep the foundations of the changeling story--a human replaced by a fey creature--but tweak the perceptions your character's society might have around them, and perhaps change the name to something that doesn't evoke the same connotations as the changeling.

Other Autistic people are welcome to add their thoughts!

-Mod Faelan

#anonymous #mod faelan #autistic representation #fantasy species #tw ableism #fantasy setting

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

“Thank you all for coming,” Goldenstar said to the assembled warriors of RisingClan. “This should be quick.” Everyone had gathered at sunhigh to talk while the kits were sleeping. Even Sagetooth and Oddstripe were in attendance. The only cat missing was Songdust, whose absence hung heavy over the group like an ill omen.

Yarrowshade shrugged and said, “We’re happy to be here, Goldie.” She smiled and he grinned in return. It was good to see her smiling again. Beside her, Scorchplume’s tail was twined with hers, a development he had noticed a few days ago but said nothing about yet. Neither of them seemed to want to bring it up either so he left it alone.

“We all want to see the end of this war,” said Pantherhaze and the rest of the group concurred. Yarrowshade in particular couldn’t wait to pay the rogues back for all the grief they had caused him. His claws ached to sink into their fur. His skin itched for the satisfaction of a well-deserved wound.

“I’ve been discussing strategies with Scorchplume,” Goldenstar said, “and she thinks there’s a way we could manage to take Razor out of play, which would be huge.” 

“Yes,” Scorchplume said, less excited than Goldenstar was. “It’s risky though.”

“Risky is what we do,” Floodpaw purred proudly. Oddstripe clucked with worry. 

“Right,” said Goldenstar. “A risk with big pay off is way better than continuing to sit and wait. Go ahead.” 

“Alright,” sighed Scorch. Yarrowshade watched her shift uncomfortably and added another smack to the list of punishments he owed Razor. “When Smokyrose came to the city, they were discussing a peace agreement. Until Ghost arrived, it looked like he was going to arrange a one on one meeting with Goldenstar that he would use to ambush her and take out your leader.” 

A few cats shifted bitterly at the mention of Smokyrose. 

“The plan is to arrange that meeting,” Goldenstar said with a fiery conviction in her voice, “and then ambush him back.” 

“But it’s extremely dangerous,” Scorch cautioned. “Goldenstar will have to be basically alone with Razor for at least a few moments. If there are any mistakes, Goldenstar could die.” 

“I could lose a life,” Goldenstar admitted, “but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. As long as the rest of you come in to corner him, we should succeed.” Scorch chewed her lip, tail rippling irritably, and Yarrowshade realized that she still didn’t believe in Goldenstar’s nine lives. 

“I think it sounds like a solid course of action,” Sagetooth said. “I’ll consult StarClan but I think we should plan on going through with it.” 

“We should ask the other Clans too,” said Pantherhaze. “We only won the last battle because of their help. We could use it again.” 

“Yeah, we don’t know how many cats Razor will bring with him,” said Sparrowpaw. “Best to be prepared.”

“I agree,” Goldenstar said, “and I’m sure something this important will get Flightstar and Snowstar to agree to it. Scorchplume believes that Razor thinks I’m the Clans’ only leader, so I’ll also be the one meeting him and taking on all the risk.” Scorch shifted again.

“Just don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Oddstripe said. “I don’t want to have more of you injured than is necessary.” Sagetooth twitched her ear. 

“We’ll train in defensive combat strategies and cooperative fighting in preparation,” said Russetfrond, looking more like himself than he had over the last couple days. Yarrowshade had enjoyed how miserable Mystique’s pregnancy had made him at first but by now he was just glad that the deputy had stopped moping. It was unsettling - too unlike him.

“Good idea,” Goldenstar nodded. “Russetfrond and I will come up with a more decisive battle plan and share it with you all during training. Are there any other questions?” 

“What are we going to do about Songdust?” Floodpaw asked impatiently. Barleypaw nodded. Sparrowpaw looked at the ground. Pantherhaze and Ospreymask leaned forward for the answer.

Goldenstar shifted. “That’s a little more complicated…” 

“I know a cat or two who might be able to help,” Scorch said, “but there’s not much we can do without going into the city which we can’t really do with Razor in power like this.” 

“StarClan will protect her if they can,” Sagetooth said. “Defeating Razor is the first step. Then we can think about rescuing Songdust.” No one seemed satisfied with that answer, but Scorch was right. There wasn’t really anything they could do. 

After a moment or two of silence, Goldenstar said, “Alright then. Meeting adjourned. Everyone focus on preparing for the battle. May StarClan guide us.”

“May StarClan guide us,” said Sagetooth, Oddstripe, Barleypaw, and Pantherhaze’s staggered voices. The cats began to disperse. Yarrowshade picked himself up and moved to talk with Scorch and Goldenstar. 

“Hey, you guys wanna go train or something?” he asked. Goldenstar looked to Scorchplume.

“You two can go,” Scorch said. “I’m not going to go anywhere near Razor.” 

“Still, it can’t hurt to get some practice in, right?” Yarrowshade asked. She looked at him and he swore he could hear her thoughts, how irritating she found him, how much she hated him for ‘choosing Nightfrost.’

“Fine,” she said shortly. 

“Great,” Goldenstar laughed a little and Scorch shot her a subtle glare. “Or what if we scout out places for the meeting instead? That’s something you could help with.” 

“I suppose,” Scorchplume hummed, seeming more inclined to that idea. Yarrowshade couldn’t help but feel like she just liked Goldenstar’s ideas better than his. He swallowed tightly and tried not to look disappointed. 

“Sounds good to me,” he said brightly. “Let’s go.” 

They set out towards the southern border. The day was warm for the season, bright and sunny with a welcome breeze. Yarrowshade tilted his face to the sun and tried to enjoy the warmth of it. 

“How’ve you been, by the way?” asked Goldenstar.

He tilted his head in her direction. “Good, I guess.” Lonely. “I’ve missed hanging out with you two though.” 

“Same, honestly,” Goldenstar said, leaning into Scorchplume’s side. “I can’t wait for all this business to be over so things can go back to normal.” 

“Normal is extremely relative,” Scorch hummed. “I for one am sick of normal.”

“We’ll just have to make a new normal then,” Yarrowshade tried, offering her a smile. She raised her brows at him but said nothing. He tried not to frown. 

“Scorch,” Goldenstar said softly. “He’s trying. Be nice to him.” Yarrowshade blushed at being called out like that. Was he so obvious? Scorch scowled at Goldenstar but there was no malice in her gaze. 

“I’ll do what I please,” she huffed.

“I know,” purred Goldenstar, “but you guys used to be good friends right? I don’t see the point in holding onto a grudge when you could just get along again.”

“Look,” Yarrowshade cut in, fur prickling in discomfort, “if it helps; I’m sorry for whatever I did.”

“Whatever you did?” Scorch raised her brows even higher somehow. 

“Yes?” he winced. This felt like a trap. 

“What was that, exactly?” Scorch asked. Goldenstar was mouthing something but he was terrible at reading lips. 

“For…” Yarrowshade hesitated. He had to find the correct answer. “For not choosing you?” There was a moment of silence where Scorch sized him up and he and Goldenstar held their breath. 

Then Scorch said, “Apology accepted.” Both Yarrowshade and Goldenstar sighed in relief. Scorch flicked her ear in annoyance. 

But after that, things were alright. Yarrowshade brought up a funny story from hunting with Barleypaw the other day and the others laughed. Scorch poked fun at him with an easy smile rather than a cold, defensive one. Goldenstar wouldn’t stop purring. He still felt like he was walking on thin ice, but at least for now Scorch was finding him entertaining. That was all he wanted, really. 

Discussion moved on to talk about how Barleypaw and her littermates would be warriors in a moon or two. Goldenstar expressed being nervous about her first real warrior ceremony as leader and Scorch and Yarrowshade told her she had nothing to worry about. From there, they started talking about Slatekit and Fogkit and their upcoming ceremony. 

“I still don’t know who should mentor Fogkit,” said Goldenstar as they paused to examine the sightlines on one hill. “I think I have Slatekit settled but Fogkit doesn’t like Ospreymask anymore and I’m not sure who else could mentor her.” 

“She’s a pawful, isn’t she?” Yarrowshade chuckled. “Yesterday I caught her ‘crafting curses’ out of claw sheds and bird bones.” 

“Crafting curses?” Scorch said skeptically. 

“Yeah,” shrugged Yarrowshade. “I don’t know where she got the idea but she said she was trying to curse the rogues to death.” He shook his head. “I’m honestly glad I already have Barleypaw cause I don’t think I would want to try and untangle that whole mess.” 

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Goldenstar said. “I would take her myself but I’ve already got Floodpaw.”

“You can’t just take every apprentice who seems like they’ll be a pawful,” Scorch huffed. 

“Is that a challenge?” Goldenstar teased and Scorch rolled her eyes. 

“Look, if it’s really such a predicament, just give her to me.” 

Yarrowshade and Goldenstar fell into stunned silence. 

“What?” Scorch bristled defensively. “Is that so outlandish?”

“No, no,” Goldenstar said quickly, a smile spreading across her face, “I just didn’t expect you to want an apprentice! I mean, it’s a pretty big commitment.” 

“Does that mean you’re staying?” Yarrowshade asked excitedly. 

Scorch swished her tail back and forth, puffing up like a ginger pigeon. “For now,” she said. “By the time I leave, Floodpaw will be a warrior and then Goldenstar can take over her training.” 

Yarrowshade cocked a brow, smirking. “I don’t buy it.” 

Goldenstar was grinning like an idiot. “Oh, Scorch!” she purred, butting her head into Scorchplume’s shoulder. “I love you so much!”

“That’s it!” Scorch said, putting both paws on Goldenstar’s face and shoving her away. “I’m actually leaving right now and throwing myself in the river.” 

“Wait, no!” wailed Goldenstar through laughter. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to use the forbidden word!” She threw herself at Scorch’s feet and clung to her like a needy kitten. Scorch huffed a laugh through her nose. 

“Please, your excellence,” she said, pretending to be scandalized, “you forget yourself.” Goldenstar laughed, chest thrumming with an uncontrollable purr. 

Yarrowshade swallowed thickly. Grief, unexpected and overwhelming, flooded his mind as he watched them joke and flirt. Neither of them seemed to notice and he was grateful for it. He carefully turned away and started down the far side of the hill, breathing slowly through his nose to try and stop himself from tearing up. 

Get it together, Yarrowshade, he thought to himself. This was such a stupid thing to cry over! He wasn’t going to let them see him like this. 

“Look,” Scorch said smugly, “your pathetic displays have scared off Yarrowshade.”

“Ah!” Goldenstar cried, still laughing, “Yarrowshade, wait! I’m sorry!”

He paused and let out one last breath before forcing the frown off of his face. “I think this hill is too exposed,” he said, glancing back at them. “Maybe we should try somewhere with trees?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Goldenstar had gotten to her feet and was halfway to him, Scorch trailing behind. Both of them looked so happy it hurt to watch.

“Do you think Orangestar would let us hold the meeting on EarthClan territory?” he asked, looking away. He focused his eyes on the trees up ahead and tried to pretend that he was fine. 

“Maybe!” Goldenstar said. “I’ll bring it up at the Gathering.” 

“Hmm,” Scorch chewed her lip. “Could we take a look anyway or would that be inappropriate.” 

“I’m not sure,” Goldenstar said.

“Probably best to wait for permission,” Yarrowshade said. 

“Yeahhhh,” Goldenstar sighed. “Oh well. Why don’t we catch some lunch and head back?” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Scorch. 

“Yeah,” Yarrowshade turned back to them, smiling again even if it felt a little forced. “I’d love that.”

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Goldenstar #Yarrowshade #Pantherhaze #Sagetooth #Oddstripe #Scorchplume #Floodpaw #Sparrowpaw #Russetfrond #Newleaf #Clangenrising

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Hiya! Would you be willing to explain why keeping captive right whales is completely nonviable, as you mentioned? I’m fascinated, but the adhd simply will not let me parse scientific papers.

That's a fantastic question! While it would be wonderful if captive breeding were a viable option for this critically endangered species, it just isn't possible under any realistic conditions.

For starters, their size. Orcas are the largest mammals successfully held in captivity, and we all know how difficult (and controversial) that is, with only a very small handful of facilities ever pulling it off with any semblance of success. Tilikum, the largest captive orca (although I believe that record has since been overtaken by a male in China), was 22.5 feet (6.9 meters) long and weighed 12,500 pounds (5,700 kg). Most other orcas in human care, particularly the females, are considerably smaller. Compare that to a northern right whale. Even the smallest adults are over 40 feet long—double Tilikum's length—and weigh 88,000 pounds (40,000 kg)—seven times his weight—while the biggest specimens on record reached up to 61 feet (18.5 m) and an incredible 234,000 pounds (106,000 kg).

A tank for an animal that size would be far beyond anything we have the ability to engineer and maintain. Think of how deep it would have to be for the whale to even turn around! The water pressure would be astronomical, wreaking havoc on the building materials even if it were possible to build the structure. And remember—someone has to dive to clean it! Our theoretical right whale habitat would have to be a sea pen, but even the 100-acre facilities proposed with orcas in mind are nowhere near deep enough. While right whales are considered to inhabit "coastal" waters, they do not live right up by the shoreline, like certain orca ecotypes and other small delphinids. They are a pelagic species, designed to live out in the open water column, as are all baleen whales. So, the pen would have to be a floating habitat miles out into the open water (think of an offshore oil rig), with netting sturdy enough to not be destroyed by a 50 ton whale and long enough to extend hundreds of feet to the ocean floor. We're talking probably thousands of square miles of netting, that would have to be routinely inspected for safety and upkeep. So, you would probably need a submersible, since no human can dive that deep. On top of that, it would be difficult to find such a larger stretch of ocean in their habitat without shipping lanes, underwater noise, or pollution. And let's just forget about the logistics of staffing that place—or worse, funding.

Additionally, we wouldn't be able to feed them by tossing fish into their mouth like with dolphins. Northern right whales feed on tiny crustaceans and zooplankton, cruising along and filtering the creatures from the water with their baleen. Assuming our right whale keepers were somehow able to acquire the insane amount of food the whale requires (potentially over 5000 pounds of zooplankton a day), it would need to be scattered throughout the massive habitat to facilitate feeding. I imagine this would probably look something like the way Georgia Aquarium feeds their whale sharks from a little boat, although on a much larger scale. And since the food obviously can't be kept alive, we would need to develop someway of delivering the daily vitamins that are lost in the freezing process—and to keep hundreds of tons of krill frozen on a floating kitchen in the middle of the ocean.

Of course, the ultimate goal of this project would be to breed northern right whales... that means we need to take everything we just talked about and double it, at a bare minimum. For the breeding program to be successful, it would need a whole lot more than just two whales. And unfortunately, even if we lived in world with magical floating thousand-acre sea pens, unlimited krill, and endless money... we still don't know if it would even work. Right whale breeding habits are poorly understood, with the whales mating in cold northern waters before migrating 1,000 miles south to calve. Despite our best theoretical efforts, these migratory patterns could very well be necessary for successful reproduction.

Thank you again for the ask! This was actually a lot of fun to think about! If you want to read about JJ, the only baleen whale ever successfully housed in (temporary) human care, you can find an article and pictures here.

#still working through my inbox #the frequency at which I answer will slow down now that I'm back on clinics #northern right whale #baleen whales #cetaceans #marine mammals #conservation #answered asks #funlovingfuzzball

[firstkanaphans]

genuinely what do you consider high heat then? boston and nick were fucking hard every episode, boston rode top to freedom in that car, etc etc. maybe you have a different definition of what that means

I wanted to wait to answer this until I had the results of that poll. 347 total people responded with the majority agreeing that they do not consider Only Friends high heat (54.2% said no, 32% said yes, and 13.8% selected “show results”). The biggest argument I saw in the notes for OF being high heat was some variation of “But Boston rode Top in front of both God and Mark Pakin. What more do you people want???” So I will attempt to answer that question here.

The problem, obviously, is that what someone considers high heat is entirely subjective, so I can only speak for myself, and for me, high heat isn’t just about the presence of sex in a narrative. It’s about how the narrative treats and frames those sex scenes.

The sex scenes in Only Friends are short, there’s little to no simulated nudity, and camera angles frequently come into play to lessen the audience’s presence in the scene. In higher heat BLs like LITA or KP, the sex scenes are intensely choreographed and often several minutes in length. They are given equal importance to any other scene. If the sex scene was not there or if it faded to black, you would lose plot and/or character development. Sex scenes in these shows are part of the narrative themselves.

There’s also just more realism in shows that I would consider high heat. For instance, in Only Friends, there are two separate scenes where Sand puts his hand down Ray’s pants and you are supposed to believe he is touching him. It is very obvious in both cases that he is not. And that’s fine! Maybe the actors weren’t comfortable doing more or maybe the network wasn’t comfortable showing more, but Porsche literally gave Kinn a foot job on camera, so…

I don’t have any hard and fast rules about what I consider high heat—it’s more about vibes than anything else—but considering Only Friends is able to be shown on YouTube uncut, it seems like someone out there agrees with me. To me, high heat would automatically earn an NC-17 rating. These are shows it would be inappropriate to show to young teenagers.

So while Only Friends is certainly high heat by GMMTV’s standards, I would not call it high heat in general. In fact, I don’t even think it’s the highest heat offering at GMMTV. The Warp Effect takes that one.

I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts because I’m sure someone probably has a more nuanced take than me, but I do wonder if maybe there’s a cultural aspect to this as well because some people seem absolutely appalled by the idea that anyone wouldn’t consider Only Friends high heat.

I would also just like to say that this is in no way meant to be a value judgment about whether high heat is better. I adored Only Friends. It’s just not the show I’m going to rewatch when I’m in the mood for something horny. Love in the Air takes that spot easily.

#now i want to rewatch lita #asks

[hannahssimblr]

Once, years ago now, Aunt Maureen took me to visit her eldest daughter, Karina. In the midday heat, beneath the shade of a fig tree we sat in a Venice restaurant, where bougainvillaea draped over the front of flat roofed houses and fragrant blooms edged the terrace. 

I loved Los Angeles. The food was always better, the people happier, the streets more colourful and picturesque than in Albuquerque, where everything was brown and beige, blending with the dust land. Karina laughed when I said this, sitting back in her chair in her oval sunglasses, a cigarette balanced between long slender fingers. 

“You should see where I live downtown, then I’ll ask you again how much you love it here.”

I didn’t know what she meant. I was thinking about those cool guys I’d seen on a basketball court earlier with their hats on backwards, the loud, bass heavy music they played from a speaker, and the skaters who dropped lazily into concrete basins on their boards. I wanted to be one of them, though I knew Maureen would never buy me something dangerous like a skateboard. I played things a bit fast and loose at the best of times and once almost rollerbladed clean off a pier, so she’d developed a fear that I might one day die of pure stupidity. Maybe when I was older and she wasn’t watching me from the kitchen window anymore I would move to LA, get myself a board and skate around on it without wearing a shirt, and get muscles and a deep tan like everyone else here. 

These were the kinds of thoughts I lost myself in as Maureen and Karina had conversations that either weren’t interesting or which I was unable to understand, but I was content sipping on my Fanta with ice, lurid orange, and so fizzy that it stung the back of my throat and thinking about being a grown up in LA while Maureen had her white wine and Karina her cigarettes. Soon they would order a plate of oysters that looked too much like boogers for me to sample and speak more about things happening, things that had already happened, and plans they’d made for the summer. 

“What’s your favourite time of year?” Karina said to me suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I knew this is the sort of question you ask a seven year old when you don’t know how to speak to children, but I thought hard about it anyway to make sure I gave her the best answer I could. She was my cool, mature cousin, and I always wanted so badly to impress her. November and December, I told her, because I got presents on my birthday, then time off school on Thanksgiving and both these things on Christmas. I was still reeling from the PlayStation console that Maureen and her husband Mario had bought me last Christmas, slotted perfectly within its square, silver box, which I still had, stored carefully beneath my bed just in case I ever needed to pack it away and move it. 

“What about you, mom?” She said, and Maureen didn’t have to think. 

“The spring,” she said, “I just love to be out in my garden then, with all the flowers and that lovely sun, it’s not too hot. It feels like everything is just on the brink of bursting to life.”

I thought about that later as we passed the canal, all the beautiful spring flowers that erupted from the banks, and of home too, where by now, in the hazy days of mid May, the desert was blanketed with spring grasses, with violets and golden poppies and bluebonnets, burning a trail of vibrant indigo all the way to the mountains. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Ty to @scrapplesims for suffering living in LA once upon a time and for answering my weirdly specific questions about what it was like

#lucky boy 2009 #another flashback! #these are too fun to do tbh #any excuse to get out of dreary dublin (san sequoia) #and chilling out in LA (DS Valley) #hopefully I'll be back to regular updates soon! #it's been BUSY friends #tw: smoking #tw: alcohol

[starsillys]

question question for your tamagotchi au would there also be a sam and jade?

YYEAAHHHHHHBGHHH YES YES YES THERE IS SAM AND JADE OFC AUAHAH I had a spesicfic idea at the time when I thoughyt of the au but unfortunately my memory does me horribly and I like. Wracked my brain trying to remember what it was specifically and put off drawing anything until I did (BAD BAD BAD) (SO MUCH INCOHERENT YAPPIN UNDER THE CUT… LIKE SO MUCH IM SORGY)

in the end I think it ended up being like… Kinito being a lil 🤓 ass guy you know a realll computer freak!!!! Actually hacking himself into reality what the flip he just likw. Stole his friends back from a certain somebody’s folder,, using your computer to somehow find himself gaining access to a completely different desktop than your own when you were not giving him attention for like 0.00001 second when they were still being developed and kind of kept them in lil usbs until he could safely upload they consciousness into a safe computer program where they can run around and be silly or until you/he can figure out a way to carry them around portably like you do with him in his tamagotchi. Also the two of them are so fucking scared one minute they were like weee!! Ha hah!! Yayy!! running around in sircles,,, having fun in the puter together before suddenly being transported via some virtual wormhole and into small separate usbs. Have absolutely no idea what’s going on the pooor guys. They don’t even know who Kinito is dude but he does know and there’s so much confusion in their behalf that comes with it bc kinito has known about these guys for so long and has been. PINING for the friendship but they were actually so unaware of this third party member and they’re down right horrified. Straight up got napped.AUGHH a dude so many thoughts I will elaborate more and more as time goes on I am rambling like a crasy person rn I’m so sorry idk if any of this even makes sense I don’t know how the computer programming stuff works

#IM CRAZY IM STUPIG #I ACTUALLY STOPPED DRAWING THIS WHOLE TIME BECAUSE I WAS TRYINH TO REMEMBER SPECIFIACCALLY #INSTEARD OF JUST LIKE #SAYING IDK #OR THINKING OF SOMETHING ELSE #oguhhnlighhh #I have so many ideaks for this thing dude #Do not know how to get them out #Need to scream #AAAA #kinitopet #best friend’s analysis answers #im so sorry I didn’t answer this sooner

[yuuji2032003]

Man I am so happy yuuji is not a twin of sukuna.. I know many people wanted it to happen but it was too easy to guess like I remember when I first watched jjk I kept searching about sukuna and conjoined twin was like on the first page. Like I am amazed that given gege's track record of proving theories wrong people were actually expecting him to confirm something that everyone knew .. That's just not gege's style. although I would say theorists aren't wrong at all except the person who was sukuna's twin so good job....

And it makes sense now that sukuna always had this indifferent vibe towards yuuji, he always gave me the feeling he doesn't recognize him as someone that important or basically the feelings yuji evoked out of him was not out of anything we expected.. Especially after 214 . He stressed on kenjaku's doing but yuuji... Which is true because he never knew this person before incarnating into him.

Gege has been writing and developing their dynamic carefully . He allowed their personalities to clash with each other not as someone who has familial or any relationship at all but like those who have different perspectives on life.

Now things have really gotten too messed up like gege was supposed to give us answers but left us with questions.. Like it feels like kenjaku has again become the real deal.... He manipulated sukuna too, can't even guess what he has done over these 1000 years...

I was really upset and disappointed before mistranslation thing but it feels too good now and I am ready for more yuuji and sukuna lore..... Yeah I remember I was not supposed to talk till Saturday but it's difficult to not talk . Loll I suppose I am not the only one. 🤭🤭

#i wanted to ramble so i did #i still believe there is too much yet to be revealed. #this plot twist is much better #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #sukuna #jjk yuuji #ryomen sukuna #sukuita #yuji itadori #jjk spoilers #jjk leaks #jjk257