#but i need a snappier response

[abirddogmoment]

Skeptic

#dogblr #rory borealis #she is so funny #such a thoughtful little dog #very calculating #that said i need to up my recall training #ive been lightly neglecting it because shes so engaged #but i need a snappier response #anyway look at her little face i love her

[thefantasyden]

Awakenings

Pairing: Sleeper Hybrid Seungmin + Canine Hybrid F Reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF

Warnings: Hybrid reader, tsundere(?) Reader, hybrid in heat (reader), unprotected sex, creampie, crying, dub con (but not really), fingering, oral (f receiving), primal, biting, marking, possessive behaving kind of but barely, Seungmin fighting his instincts.

Word count: 2,394

Synopsis: Seungmin has always felt differently about the groups hybrid, but he has never been able to figure out the cause of his pining.

You always avoided Seungmin. It had become a trademark of your relationship the moment the group chose to adopt you, your tail always flitting low and slow when he was around.

Neither of you really knew why. Something about him was different, and you could never figure out what exactly it was.

He smelled different from any other human you'd met, and it was a scent that would surround you almost suffocatingly. It was slightly sweet and earthy, but wholly too strong to provide you with any sense of comfort when the contrast was so stark compared to that of his friends.

Seungmin watches you carefully slip past him in the small space between the kitchen counter and the stove, carefully avoiding any chance of your skin touching. He'd never ask about your behaviour in fear of making you uncomfortable or perhaps fear of what your answer would be, but it was a constant battle when he felt so drawn to you, taking any chance to breathe in your own warm, woody scent.

He had started finding any excuse he could to follow you around the dorms. It was hard at times, often resulting in a stuttered explanation as he tried to give reason to him suddenly needing to talk to Felix when you were hanging out in his room.

༄ જ⁀➴

They can all tell you're feeling off. You don't avoid Seungmin when you drag yourself toward the snack cupboard, and you sit far too close to him on the couch, immediately flagging to Chris that something was wrong.

"Pup, are you feeling okay?" He asks softly, concern only growing when you're slow to respond, your face almost dazed as you try to zone back in.

"Hm? Yeah. I'm just feeling weird."

༄ જ⁀➴

You're snappier that day than usual, quick to scold any member that dared to try and pet you or assign you a task. Everything blows up completely when Changbin helps himself to your leftover pasta, and the escalation to you both screaming across the living room happens before anyone can register what's happened, a threatening growl filling the room for mere seconds before you're being tugged away by Hyunjin and Chris who carefully guide you back to your room and apologise profusely for his mistake, promises of takeout meeting deaf ears as you bury yourself into your comforter.

Sleep is quick to welcome you, but the unbearable cramps that accompany your bad mood have you tossing and turning in the uncomfortable in-between where your conscious and unconscious battle to pull you to their side.

Gentle knocking at your door finally gets you moving, sitting up against your many pillows as you mumble out your response, watching the door slowly open to a nervous looking Seungmin holding multiple plastic bags.

"I heard what happened earlier, and thought maybe you could use some snacks."

He speaks quietly, and it's almost soothing, the end of your bed dipping beneath him as he sets the bags infront of you and watches you rummage through them curiously, a squeak of excitement making him smile when you grab at the multiple boxes of cookies and cream pocky.

You're too distracted by the many treats to respond, and he takes that as a cue to leave, barely able to move before you're grabbing at his arm and staring him down with wide pleading eyes.

"Can you stay? Please..."

Shocked isn't a strong enough word to explain how he feels, but he's quick to accept, waiting as you move yourself forward before he cautiously slots himself behind you. He can't even deny how his heart races when you settle back into him. Any sense of your usual avoidant self had completely melted away, leaving you pliant and dreamy against him.

The fact that your heat was hitting still hadn't clicked for you, instead only aware of how comforting it felt to have Seungmins scent wrapped around you like the warmest hug and his firm chest pressed against your back. It was cosy and safe and had your instincts taking hold.

You're flicking through shows, keening slightly as a warm hand finds your tummy and rubs absentminded circles that soothe the ache of your cramping muscles as another pokes and prods at your hip like a stress toy, the soft supple flesh soothing Seungmins own anxieties.

It happens without you realising. Subtle movements shift you further back into his lap and even the firm grip he has on your hips as he calls your name don't stop the subtle grind that has him hardening against you, his mind hazy as his teeth find your shoulder, resting against the skin as you apologise profusely, tiny moans echoing in his mind.

"You smell so good..."

The words are spoken more to himself than to you, but the need that laces them encourages your movement, voice cracking as you ask him to help you.

"What?" There's no way he's heard you correctly. Surely, you'd never dare to ask him for something like this.

"I know I shouldn't. I'm sorry, Minnie, but it hurts so much and just- your hands. It's so warm... It feels so good, Minnie."

You're practically whining, and the fog in his mind grows thicker, a rumble in his chest surprising you both.

"How do you want me to help you?"

Teeth nip at your neck as your hand finds his, guiding it lower until it's slipping beneath your underwear, his fingers immediately covered in your slick when they find your clit, your sticky thighs tensing against his as he rubs firm circles against the bundle of nerves, groaning against your neck when your head is thrown back against his shoulder, your delicate moans spurring him on.

It doesn't even register to him that he's started lapping at your flesh as you cum for him, your body tensing and relaxing, shaking against him as he holds you close.

He stays with you until you fall asleep before sneaking out, embarrassment flooding him as he rushes to his own dorm to lock himself in his room, tugging at his aching cock like a man possessed as he very quickly cums all over himself to the thought of pinning you to your mattress.

༄ જ⁀➴

Even the idea of facing you after what happened is enough to have him sulking in the practice room for hours, anxiety flooding him as his thoughts bounced between the fear of having made you uncomfortable and the question of why he felt so out of control around you. He was almost more ashamed to admit how much he enjoyed it than he was to have caved so easily.

Did you like him now? What changed? He had been so well versed on hybrid behaviour before you came into his life, but now it was like everything he had learned had been wiped from his memory.

You try to text him casually, but you're riddled with a kind of seperation anxiety that you'd never felt before as your polite greetings quickly turn to questions of 'did I do something to upset you?' that fill Seungmin with guilt, his heart clenching as he pictures the confusion that would be painting your face.

He does text back, but you don't physically see him until Chris charges him with keeping an eye on you while the boys worked on projects, trusting him to be the most responsible of the available members.

It's brief. You catch a glimpse of him as you rush back to your room from the kitchen, burying yourself in the comfort and safety of your blankets until the mere knowledge of his presence becomes enough to overwhelm you, your desire for skin to skin contact overriding your rational brain as you call out to him, not quite willing to leave the cosy space you'd built perfectly around you.

The creak of your door is almost silent, but fluffy brown hair peaks around the corner and you can feel your worries easing as he watches you in quiet curiosity.

"What's up? Are you okay?"

He's so gentle when he speaks to you, and you whine in response, a loud huff following as your animal instincts take the lead.

"Cuddle. Please? I don't feel good, Minnie."

The pout tugging at your lips and your pained expression were stronger than his shame, urging him to find comfort in the warmth of your body pressed close against his, your scent persuading him to relinquish his racing thoughts to the deep lull of tranquility he felt overcome his body with his nose nuzzling your hair and his arm around your waist as he held you gently.

Sleep comes too easily to the both of you and he's sure he could have stayed happily bound to the realm of his dreams if it wasn't for an unexpected pressure moving firmly against his crotch, jolting him awake with a slight panic before he registers your whining form moving slowly against him. His reasonable mind tells him to wake you up, but something deeper inside him is fighting for freedom with a ferocity he had never felt in his life, a deep growl rumbling in his chest seemingly causing you to keen against him, eager and tempting as he tried to resist the urge to touch you.

It's not until he hears you quietly call his name that he breaks, the hum of your voice as your hips grind harder back on to him flipping a switch, hands tugging at your thigh and waist until he's managed to cage you beneath him, chest heaving as he buries his nose into your neck and inhales deeply. He can feel your hands slip under his shirt, but his ears are ringing and his mind is too fuzzy to speak. He feels almost hungry, teeth nipping your neck a little too roughly as he marks your skin, fingers digging into the pillowy flesh of your thighs in order to hook them around his waist and offer him better access to grind his hardening length against you.

He swears he can smell it. There's a wet patch on your pyjama pants and the scent of your arousal is driving him to insanity, only spurred on by the delicate touch of your hand palming his cock.

"Please, Min. Need you. Please!"

You can barely whisper your pleas between gasped breaths, barely finishing your begging before your lips are caught by his and his tongue is dipping into your mouth in a forceful kiss, the passion between you bubbling over and manifesting in a mess of gasps and wet lips as he struggles to get his pants down enough to free his cock which throbs painfully as it presses against you.

"Can I? Fuck, please let me. Need to make you mine so bad."

He's as far gone as you are and the lewd moan you bless him with is more than enough for him to be pulling your pyjamas off, your slick covered cunt laid bare for him causing him to short circuit completely, his plans quickly changing as he slips down from his current position to lay flat on his stomach where he immediately begins biting and sucking at your thighs, marking more of you before his tongue finds your slit and laps hungrily at your arousal.

The taste is nothing short of addictive, hands wrapping underneath your thighs to hold you still against his face as he focuses his attention or your clit, lapping at sucking at the bud until he has you on the verge of sobbing, your hands pushing at his head as you beg him to just fuck you already, which he's more than happy to do once he's had his fill.

You're so far gone by the time his tip is nudging at your entrance that all you can do is whimper, welcoming the intrusion as he slowly presses the entirety of his length into you. It's more than you would have expected, but you're given no time to contemplate that thought as he immediately sets a rapid pace, his thrust careful but firm as he lets the instincts he'd been fighting take over completely, teeth sinking into your neck just deep enough to provide a delicious sting without breaking the skin at all.

He's babbling incoherently against you, alternating constantly between biting at your flesh and pressing harsh kisses to your lips, occasionally lapping at your mouth in a way he's sure he'd be embarrassed of later, but the pretty sounds that it coaxes from you are more than enough to encourage him right now.

"Gonna be mine now, right? Need you to be mine. Please. Wanna make you mine forever."

Your aching cunt is pulsing around him and you can't reply as your high hits you, nails digging into his back as your legs lock around his waist. You can feel his hips faltering and you know he's close too, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in the most primal way.

"Fill me, Min. Want you to cum in me! Wanna be yours forever!"

If the idea of filling you wasn't enough, your desire to be his is more than enough to have him gripping your hips and pulling you roughly to meet his final thrust as he came with breathless pants, watching with wide eyes as his cum spilled out around his cock with every forward jerk of his hips.

He doesn't pull out until he hears you sniffling through the fog in his mind, quickly pulling you into his chest and petting your hair, sparing no thought for the mess it was creating. He'd deal with that later.

"Are you okay baby? Did I hurt you?"

He's flooded with concern and you can see it on his face, one hand cupping your cheek as he stared at you with a tenderness you could never have imagined.

"No... I just..."

It's as if he can read your mind, the lightest kiss pressing to your forehead before he tucks your head into his neck.

"You're all mine, if you want to be."

His voice is sure, yet a little nervous and you can't help but melt into him, sighing contentedly as you nod your affirmation, a sigh of relief causing you to giggle and earning a playful growl in response.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a hybrid yourself."

#hybrid seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #stray kids seungmin smut #seungmin x reader smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

[the-scythes-pen]

Crawling out of the depths of whatever hellhole I was in to write my own version of how Blade would react to you getting hurt

(I saw a post about it and had differing thoughts to OP)

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

Before getting hurt, Blade doesn't think he really cares about much. You can take care of yourself, can't you? You don't need him to be there every second to baby you- nor does he want to.

When you do get hurt, however, and you're being carried to a nearby cot to be treated- Blade just stares at you. He doesn't seem to have any reaction whatsoever. His expression is blank, eyes cold... he's practically glaring.

He doesn't stick around to watch you get treated. Instead, he goes off on his own- whether to fight enemies, or meditate. He's seen enough blood in his long, long life- it all looks the same to him. Including yours.

However, absolutely do not take his lack of "reaction" and his absence as him not caring. Its just... complicated. Emotions are complicated for him, especially when it comes to you, and seeing you hurt badly like that... he doesn't know how to react. He doesn't know what to do.

He's snappier then usual; quieter and definitely more prone to mara-attacks. He watches you from afar; makes sure you're ok, makes sure you're still safe... but its almost like he's avoiding you, like he can't stand to be around you for too long.

Everytime he sees you, red flashes in his vision and he sees you covered in wounds. Sometimes they're of his own making, and other times they're of whatever enemies he failed to subdue.

It's a very slow process to get Blade back to how he was with you before. And he's still watching you from afar- from the corner of his eye; silently ensuring your safety like a loyal yet distant shadow in your wake.

Take his hand and pull him into a hug- tell him that you're alright and he'll stiffen, perhaps even just grunt in response- or even push you away.

Tell him you miss him, that you promise you won't leave him- and perhaps catch him after a nightmare, or right after meditation- and you may just find yourself tightly embraced within a pair of very strong arms and a man whos just scared to lose the one good thing he has left in his life.

#honkai star rail #star rail blade #star rail x reader #blade x reader #stellaron hunters #honkai blade x reader #blade

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Growing pains

Summary: How did Jeff and Rio feel knowing Miles was sneaking out with a girl?

Jeff's rant became background noise as she lifted the sweater in confusion.

It wasn't Miles, not just because it wasn't his size (she had needed to buy so many new clothes with his growth spur that she would know) but it was...feminine, she could even smell faintly some perfume.

Whoever left it was using it recently.

"-Babe are you backing me up in this one or what?" 

Rio snapped back to reality as she felt her husband's hand on her shoulder, he looked at her still kind of upset yet more curious as to why she hasn't moved from that spot.

"Jeff, where is this from?" She asks immediately, not paying attention to whatever he has been insisting on her.

Arching an eyebrow, he didn't look too much into the item before shrugging with disinterest "I don't know, I normally let him choose whatever he wants as long as the price is okay; a better question is why his room is such a mess, maybe we should ground him an extra month for that-"

"Jeff" She called him again, trying to distract him from his authoritative-dad ideas "This isn't his, it has to belong to a girl."

The moment the word 'girl' came out of her mouth he seemed even more puzzled. Giving an actual look at the item from his wife's hands, he was trying to remember if he has seen it before "Does it belong to one of your nieces maybe?"

"I didn't remember seeing any of them using this, why it would be here anyways? We let the guest put their coats in the entrance, and I don't think either Ana or Camila would just leave this in Miles's bed for no reason."

As they both realized they couldn't recall anyone who could have this sweater, finally the other possible explanation popped into their minds. Not because it wasn't obvious, but more like-

"Is this happening now? It isn't too soon?"

"No, no no no, no way that boy brought a girl to our house, to his room, all while he is grounded." Just as quickly, Jeff was getting worked out again about this outrage.

Miles comes late (again,) with cakes that are falling apart, refuses to talk to them, and now he is hearing how he left his room to be with a girl?

Rio couldn't believe it either.

"This can't be right- He is too young to think of that!" She replied in disbelief.

She felt her husband's gaze rest on her as she stopped looking at the item (who could belong to? Maybe one of Miles's old friends from the neighborhood? As far she knew he stopped hanging out with everyone around here,) and saw the face Jeff always puts when he isn't sure how to tell her something.

"What?"

And her snappier response didn't seem to make him more confident about saying it.

"I mean- Look, don't get me wrong, we are both on the same side here" He prefaces, he needed to reserve all his energy to think how to get to that boy's skull that he couldn't do whatever he wanted, not to mention that when Rio got angry even he got scared. "But, he is fifteen honey."

"Yeah! A baby!"

"Well, not so baby, I mean at his age I was-"

The pointed look of Rio was all the information he needed to know he SHOULDN'T end that sentence.

"What I am trying to say, is that he is getting to a certain age mi amor, we cannot stop that."

Rio's shoulders fell, realizing how tense she was getting and this wasn't even going into how disobedient her son has been getting lately. As she looked towards the room (which was indeed a mess,) she saw the toys laying around, notebooks of old drawings pilled over the new ones that show his progress, she could almost see him as a toddler running around with a cape.

That felt like it was yesterday.

And now she had the sweater of a girl she doesn't know in her hands, in Miles' room.

Where did her little boy go?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Since the Wip poll won, I decided to post this little thing that was actually, my first fic for this fandom.

I never got to publish it because it was missing two other scenes, but I decided to scrap it since the third one felt a bit too crazy, so I would do that idea for another thing.

So now while this is technically not a wip, I decided to publish it since I don't have any works in progress I can give sneak peaks for now.

Thanks for reading!

#atsv #across the spiderverse #ghostflower #rio morales #jeff morales #fanfics #gwiles

[vivalas-vega]

Oooh my, your requests are freaking open???? I've got an idea in my head for a long time and now I give it a try and send it to you. I'm obsessed with Jake (and Bradley) x Roomie (fem reader or oc) trope, so apologies in advance for this one (also a sucker for hurt and comfort 😬). I try to keep it as short as possible: Rooster's and Hangman's new roomie has a sad past. She has sleeping issues and bad nightmares. They hear her whimpering and crying in her sleep. The guys are worried but she plays it down, feeling bad for waking them up with her shit. Maybe she starts to sleep walking and unfortunately hurts herself during this episode. The guys find her in the middle if the night hurt. And she opens up to them telling them about her dreams and her past.

ahhhh !!! I'm so glad to finally get this one posted, I'm so sorry it took so long ! I am such a sucker for the roommate trope, and I love writing stories that are strictly platonic, just focusing on lovely friendship vibes bc those are just as important as the romantic ones !!! I hope you enjoy!

(this doesn't have a title yet bc it's admittedly the thing I'm the worst at when it comes to writing fics)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some suggestive humor, language, brief and vague mentions of death, lmk if I missed any

“Are you going to eat these leftovers?” you asked Bradley, who was sitting at the kitchen island keeping you company as you cleaned out the fridge and he stared at the tupperware container for an infuriatingly long time, contemplating his options before you let out an exasperated sigh. “Bradshaw, it’s pasta. Yes or no?”

“No,” he finally answered. “You’re in a mood.” 

“No mood, it would just be nice if you could be snappier in your responses while you just watch me clean the kitchen.”

“Yeah, definitely not in a mood,” he muttered under his breath but you heard it anyway. “Do you know where Hangman is?”

“You two share a bathroom and you still can’t call him by his name?” you asked with a chuckle. “He’s at the gym, should be back soon.”

“We only share a bathroom because you got the master,” he protested and you laughed again.

“I needed the bigger closet,” you shrugged. “I told you you’re welcome to use mine anytime.”

“After you reamed me for using your face wash? Thank you, but no thank you, I haven’t been yelled at like that since I borrowed my moms car to take Cindy Daniels on a date.”

“I only yelled because you used a forty dollar cleanser as body wash and somehow managed to use half the bottle. Besides, your mom was right to yell at you too, you stole her car and you were thirteen.”

“I was covered in grease! And my date with Cindy is none of your business.” 

“Are we having the face wash fight again?” Jake asked as he came in through the garage, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he reached around you to grab a bottle of water, but you only pushed him away, muttering something about keeping his sweat away from you. “Take the blame, Chicken, you wasted half a bottle of Drunk Elephant, you’re lucky she didn’t put you on the porch for the night.”

“See, the craziest thing about this whole situation is you were just as outraged as she was.”

“Good skincare is not just for women, you might want to invest in a routine of your own.” he smirked before disappearing down the hallway and you heard the sound of the shower turning on.

“You working tomorrow?” Bradley asked, getting up to wash the containers you’d placed near the sink.

You shook your head, “a Friday and Saturday off, Penny was feeling extra generous.” You’d met the two of them, along with the rest of the team, when they’d first gotten to town for the infamous and secretive mission that almost claimed the life of the man currently donning cherry-printed cleaning gloves and scrubbing pasta sauce out of tupperware. You’d all become fast friends, they’d coax you out from behind the bar on your breaks or when your shift was over for darts or pool, and when your lease was up just as they received word of a permanent assignment it seemed to make sense for the three of you to find a place together. It was a godsend for you, it got you out of your cramped apartment with dismal lighting and into a beautiful craftsman only a few blocks away from the beach. Even with arguments with Bradley about face wash and a sweaty Jake, it was a no-brainer.

“Could we convince you into coming to your place of work on a night off? These new recruits are testing our patience, Phoenix wants a fun night out to blow off steam.”

“I could potentially be persuaded,” you replied, shutting the fridge after deeming it was as cleared out as it was going to get. 

“Which translates to as long as I’m not mixing them, I’ll always show up for drinks,” Jake said, walking back into the kitchen with freshly washed hair. “Do I get any kind of welcome home now that I’m not sweaty?” 

“No, because now you’re wet, did you even dry off?” you asked, snapping him with a dish towel before he rounded the island and wrapped his arms around you.

“Enough,” he answered, squeezing you tight as you pretended to hate it. Really, you loved living with these two. Being on your own before was starting to take its toll on you, and they reminded you of a different time in your life, one that felt like it was ancient history. “Not to dampen the mood, but… we did want to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious, should I break out the house meeting wine?” you asked, eyeing them skeptically as they shared a look with each other that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“We just wanted to… check in,” Bradley started and you raised your eyebrows. “The past few weeks we’ve heard certain sounds coming from your room and-”

“Okay, first of all,-” you started to cut him off, eyes wide at what you thought he was insinuating.

“Not like that, sweetheart,” Jake interjected. “But feel free to get louder when you do,” he half-joked and you hit him with the towel again. “What bird boy is trying to say is sometimes we hear what sounds like nightmares coming from your room and it’s happened enough that we just want to check in and see if everything is okay.” You suddenly felt nauseous. 

“If there’s something going on, or you need someone to talk to, you know we’re here, right?” Bradley asked and you nodded softly.

“I know, everything is fine, I’m sorry if I woke you.” you said, trying to dismiss their concerns altogether as you occupied yourself with looking over the mail.

“It’s just… it doesn’t sound fine, if you don’t want to talk to us we can help you find someone else to talk to, we just want to make sure you’re okay.” Jake tried and you gave him a forced smile.

“And I am, but I’m glad the two of you finally found something to agree on.” You tossed some junk mail in the garbage before turning to face them again, “I have some errands I want to run early tomorrow morning… text me if you need anything from the store but I’m going to turn in. Goodnight,” you said with another forced smile before heading down the hall and letting out a sigh as your back pressed against your closed bedroom door. You thought that things had gotten better… that enough time had passed. They seemed to be happening less and less, but maybe that wasn’t as true as you once thought. 

Your footsteps down the hallway were an unusual sound for this time of night… nightmares or not, once you went to bed you weren’t seen until the following morning and it was enough to stir Jake from his slumber. You on the other hand, were completely unaware of what was going on, still stuck in a dream, stuck in a fluorescent lit hallway with tears streaming down your face only you weren’t… you were in your living room, walking straight into the console table and falling onto the broken glass of the picture frames and vases you’d knocked over which was enough to jolt both of them out of bed. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Bradley asked, crouching down beside you as you came to.

“Mav- Maverick?” you asked, voice hoarse as you struggled to place where you were, the images from your dream still fresh in your mind. He looked at Jake confused who was on the other side of you and carefully pushing glass aside.

“No, it’s Bradley… Honey, what happened?” You blinked a few times, finally recognizing you were on the floor of your living room and the searing pain of broken glass in your palms and knees.

“I don’t- oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you winced as you tried to stand but Jake was quick to scoop you up, holding you tight as he walked to the kitchen and carefully placed you next to the sink while Bradley grabbed the first aid kit. “I- I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m okay, you can go back to bed.” He just frowned at you and when Bradley returned he started pulling the shards from your palms while Jake worked on your knees. Silent tears were still streaming down your face and they were both trying to figure out how to ask you what was wrong, but one thing they knew for certain was no one was going back to bed until they got to the bottom of what was going on with you.

“Sweetheart, do you want to tell us what’s going on?” Jake asked softly, looking up briefly to meet your eyes before gently running his thumb along your cuts, making sure there weren’t any pieces he missed. 

You shook your head as you wiped your cheeks, “nothing, I just… I don’t know, I guess I was half-asleep? I’m really sorry I woke you,” you said and they both looked at you like they didn’t believe a word of it.

“Alright, I was willing to maybe let it go before but you could have been seriously hurt tonight. Something is going on with you,” Jake said, voice firm as he stopped what he was doing to wipe a few of your tears.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us. Why did you say Maverick’s name when you woke up?” Bradley asked and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before letting it all out. 

“I uh… there’s something I never told you about me.” you started, taking a moment to breathe as you felt your throat tighten. They stayed quiet, both carefully dabbing at your cuts with a damp cloth or rubbing aquaphor over them before bandaging them. “I wasn’t a teacher before realizing I liked bartending more, I was a pilot.”

“Wait, what?” Bradley asked, shock evident in his tone and Jake elbowed him, eyes silently pleading for you to continue. 

“My callsign is- or was Flash… like the superhero,” you chuckled but there wasn’t much humor in it and both of their eyes widened. “I was on a mission that went south really fast,  we were outnumbered and outgunned, we ran out of resources quickly. I was hit, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t save it, I couldn’t save him.” you choked out.

“Who?” Bradley whispered, you were all cleaned up now and they were both focused solely on you. Jake was rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh as Bradley held one of your hands in his own.

“My wizzo, we called him Genie… we both got to our squad at the same time, and on our first night out his icebreaker was if you had three wishes, what would you wish for?” You laughed again, but this time it was genuine.

“I’ve heard of him,” Jake said, noticing your breathing quicken just at the mention of him. “Both of you, actually, from what I’ve heard you were a hell of a pilot.”

“He couldn’t eject, something went wrong with the handles… I’d already pulled mine when I heard him say they were stuck and the next thing I know the jet is crashing into a hillside below me. I thought the dreams were getting better, and that I was maybe starting to move past it… I don’t think I really registered that it was happening again, or maybe that it never stopped.” 

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Bradley asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and you focused your gaze on your hands.

“I just… I didn’t want you to know that I failed my wizzo,” you choked out. “Or that the last time I was in a cockpit I nearly crashed again and Mav had to talk me through landing a plane I’ve landed thousands of times before because I panicked. I didn’t want you guys to censor yourselves when it came to work stuff out of pity for me being a failed pilot, and I guess… I just didn’t want you guys to look at me differently.”

“Hey, what happened wasn’t your fault,” Jake said, squeezing your thigh gently and prompting you to look up at him. “And we would never look at you differently for that, we understand.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that… and just know that we don’t think of you as a failure. We’ve both heard about that mission, there was nothing you could have done. Faulty equipment and being outgunned is not your burden to bear.” Bradley added, running a hand along your back.

“What is it that you say sometimes? It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot?” you asked, sadness seeping into your tone and he just pulled you into his side and pressed a kiss to your head.

“There’s not much the pilot can do if the plane fails them.”

“You went through a trauma, we would never fault you for not flying again after that.” Jake said and you smiled softly.

“Mav could… god, he tried so hard, he was really there for me after it happened, but… when I finally got back into a plane I just couldn’t shake it. It was like I could still hear him in my backseat even though he wasn’t there.”

“Just because Mav could, that doesn’t mean you’re a lesser pilot or a lesser person for not being able to, if anything I think it makes you stronger. You knew your limits, and instead of pushing through it when you couldn’t trust flying again you took a step back. I know a lot of people who wouldn’t make that same choice.” Bradley said, nudging Jake and you let out a laugh as you wiped your face again.

“Yeah, I thank my lucky stars I never crossed this one’s path when I was still flying,” you said and Jake’s face twisted up in shock.

“Hey, why are we ganging up on me now?” he asked and you laughed again. 

“You make it so easy,” you teased and they both smiled, happy to see you coming back into yourself a little.

“We’re here for you, okay? So is everyone else,” Bradley said, pulling you into him again and you let yourself wrap your arms around him as you laid your head on his chest and Jake kept rubbing circles into your skin.

“No matter what, you can always come wake us up if you need someone.”

“I love you guys, you know that?” 

You could hear the smirk in Jake’s voice as he said, “oh, we know.” He wrapped himself around the other side of you as the two of them squished you between them. “We love you too.”

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @djs8891 @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through, it means I couldn't tag you - sorry!)

#your honor I love them #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin fan fiction #jake hangman seresin fluff #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fan fiction #jake seresin fluff #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman fan fiction #hangman fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw fan fiction #bradley rooster bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fan fiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

[shai-manahan]

Hollowed Minds Progress Update 5/08/23

Hi! I know I failed at making a progress update last month, so first of all, apologies for that! Things have just been busy tbh and life has been too stressful that at some points I just couldn't write. It's why I've been a bit inactive here as well, and why I've been barely answering the asks I've been receiving.

I cannot report yet how many words I've written for the update so far because I haven't really taken a look at it myself, but I will do so at the end of the month if there's still no confirmed schedule by then. My eye health has just been very consistent at making my life harder as well until recently, and here's hoping I'll at least be able to function properly for a whole month🤞

Some things that will be in the next update:

For Chapter 2's Part 2:

Everything still goes as planned, except now both routes are expected to be fast-paced and action-oriented, though one is still more intense than the other.

This will be a massive one, not because of the word count but because of the variations that will play out. There won't be much issues in arranging the transitions to Chapter 3, so there's at least that, but your choices will matter a lot. So you might have to be careful with them.

One of the routes gets Alonzo actively involved, but please be assured that this doesn't mean you have to romance them. I actually encourage you all to check out both routes once they come because you'll gain more discoveries that way. 👀

Alonzo's route will be so memeworthy, I have to admit. Please try it.

There's an info dump in Chapter 2's Part 1 that I'm not really a fan of, so I'll be moving some of those to this part instead if needed.

For the overall IF:

Alex will now have a set skin tone if a lighter one is chosen for the Ripper. I will discuss this in detail soon, but I just wanted to emphasize that Alex and Ripper's mother are canonically PoC.

You will have options for your Ripper to wear contacts or glasses (or neither ofc).

You'll be able to bring a weapon with you in Chapter 2 depending on your choices so far.

You might remember a section of Chapter 1 where you can choose what your Ripper had been doing for the duration of the five months. I might reduce it to a few, just so I could have them properly recognized in the story.

There will be a couple of changes in the character descriptions in the game's stats page, with plans to make them shorter, too, for easier readability.

I will make sure you'll have saves at the end of this. So please don't be surprised if there'll be more page breaks in the future, as well as more choices (that are still as meaningful.)

In connection to above, I also plan to make the in-game descriptions snappier and easier to read while still maintaining the quality they should have. Your feedback will be very important for this, and this also applies to the beta testers (sorry I've been so silent. I swear I'll get back to you all soon lmao)

Not really too related here, but I also plan to be more consistent with my updates in the future. It's just that my irl schedule is still a huge mess, and it's very hard to be consistent when that happens.

Just a last piece of my mind. Some anons have been very aggressive with harassment the past few months, and I really have no interest for more drama right now. So if you have issues, if you think you can back your own words, send them through a DM or at least turn off anon so we could have a proper conversation.

It's honestly tiring. Being an Asian in this community can already be so tiring, so I am begging people to be mature and responsible with their words. After all, I've repeatedly said that you can always come to me with your concerns or whatever you have against me. As long as we can actually talk about it.

Anyway, that's all, and I hope the week will be good for everyone :) I have a few more things to post on Patreon tomorrow, so if you're a current patron, do look forward to that!

#hollowed minds series #interactive fiction #hollowed minds #wip #writing #hollowed minds book one #if wip #interactive novel #hollowed minds progress update #progress update #interactive game #if game #cyoa

[thenightfolknetwork]

hello there! I have some questions about guidelines for asks.

is there a general length that asks should be?

How closely should terminology follow that in MA, and is there a chart, perhaps a spreadsheet, of the in-universe language? (I. May. Be nerding out over linguistic implications.)

how many letters can be written in?

since the letters aren’t getting re-written by you or edited by Sophie B., should we put any applicable content warnings at the beginning of the ask?

can we make fan recordings of the letters and/or responses? If so, what about *whispering* Americans?

alrighty I think that’s it! (I am SO excited for this :D)

Hello! So, to take your questions in order:

I don't have a hard rule for the length of asks. We're all learning together how this idea works in the blog format, so if I end up with a hard rule then I'll let you all know! That said, it's generally better to err on the side of shorter and snappier, as much for readability as anything else.

There is no spreadsheet (you big nerd xxx) but there never was for MA either! People who are familiar with the podcast might like to use the terminology they remember from that, but the creature community is vast and varied and I see no in-universe reason for everyone to use the same kind of language.

You can write as many letters as you like, but I'm not going to promise to answer them all.

If you want to add content warnings, feel free. If you don't, don't! It's all good. If your letter comes up against a real-world issue that I feel needs a warning, I'll put it in the tags of my response.

Fan recordings are all good - yes, even if you're... [shudder] ... American

I am excited too!!

#ooc #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

[lavenoon]

Can we have more hatchling AU plz?

Pain? You asked for pain? I come to deliver! <3

So the angst is canon - both boys get that moment where they just snap at the baby bird.

Dawn has had enough - and after the nth time that Robin tries to tag along for paperwork too, he asks them why rather harshly. And while their response didn't actually aim towards friendship, the immediate rejection gave them a good idea of what he thinks of them. Dawn leaves them easily, not quite thinking about the impact he left, only glad to finally have some peace and quiet. He does get that pang of not quite regret, but the thought "Maybe there would have been a better way to handle this"

Can't argue with the results however. They do lay off after that, acting much more subdued during missions. As impressive as it used to be that they actually seemed to be able to keep up with him, that performance is now slacking. Dawn is a good agent. So when he starts listening to the rumor mill, and pays attention to context clues, he knows it's not a general drop - only on missions they share with him. They're jumpy, hesitant, and their acting has become subpar, but only when he's around. That... That doesn't sit right with him. There's also the fact that he starts getting bored - Robin doesn't join as many missions, actively bowing out of shared missions offered to them, and he gets paired with other agents that don't know him or how he works. None of them stick around for a second time, so he has to work with someone new every time. It's familiar and frustrating, and he starts missing Robin's little quips and enthusiasm.

He's not sorry. That would imply he didn't mean what he said, and they aren't friends. But Robin gets little gifts in their office's pigeonhole, cereal bars and water bottles, and while their decision to have Dawn for a rival somewhat isolated them from other field agents, they do ask around and figure out that he hasn't been making any friends. Even snappier than usual, they hear - how did they stand it for so long? Well, he's not too bad usually... He just really can't stand them, so...

But then, after about two to three weeks (don't quote me on that, I may change my mind, but it works for now) they just hear their code name called out to them on the way to their office, and when they turn Dawn is just approaching them with... well, the best pokerface they've ever seen. No reading that expression.

"I see you're well."

"Uhh."

It's awkward, the silence that follows. They have no clue what he wants - and he's a proud idiot who can't articulate it either. They both fumble, and Dawn tries to take control of the conversation, "subtly" asking if the cereal bars were to their liking. That was him? Yes, obviously it was him - he knows about their atrocious self care habits! Completely ignoring his initial question, they now crack half a smile, as confused as it is. Did he... Did he feel bad?

Dawn flinches, and looks away, and they know they hit gold where they never would have expected it. Getting the words out of his voicebox feels like pulling teeth, but he forces them out.

"I may have... reacted rather harshly. While I stand by the content of what I said, there were better ways to establish that, and it wasn't relevant to our conversation at all. We don't need to be friends to work with each other, and... And you are the one agent at this location who actually seems to understand how I work, even if I can't claim the opposite yet. I would like to, with time, if you're willing."

It's not really an apology, but Robin sees him, stiff and uncomfortable, admitting to his own faults, and they have to bite back a grin. So he's scary, alright, and ruthless, yeah, but also kind of... Kind of an idiot, huh?

"... I'll be annoying."

"I'm aware."

"And you won't mind?"

"... Less than the alternative."

They snort at the honesty, even more so as it comes hesitantly. They grin, then.

"You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you? I'll take the next one. Just know that you chose this."

Dawn sighs, eternally suffering, and Robin chokes on another laugh. It's easy to swallow when his next words are quiet, barely audible, and something he never said to them that genuinely before.

"Thank you."

They aren't friends, Robin knows. But maybe they can be. They already made the big scary star agent admit he works best with them - surely everything else is possible too <3

(The initial conversation also is what made them cry enough for Moon to notice later that day - and something that Dawn will thus regret all over again) (Dawn starts calling them "little thief" soon after, as they stuck with the "Sunshine" for him, and it's only another step in the right direction)

Dusk technically has even less tact, and snaps at them in the middle of a mission. They just almost walked into the path of a camera again, distracted by their own energy, and he's had enough. At the very least he has the sense to immediately regret it - but the words are already out, and Robin is already withdrawing. "I'll focus," they say, and they do, and Dusk tries hard not to feel bad about the suffocating silence following those two words.

He certainly feels very bad when the next time he moves his hand near them, they flinch back. Eyes wide and trained on his fingers, even without the claws and electricity dancing between them. Oh no. He was angry, yes, and maybe upped the intimidation factor, but he didn't actually want them afraid of him.

Because while he figured that they simply don't take anything seriously, including him, Robin was being lighthearted despite the respect they have for him. They aren't as oblivious as he thinks they are (they're oblivious in different, exciting ways), and to them that little intimidation display was not the attempt of a senior agent struggling to be taken seriously, but rather a senior agent they admire all but declaring his willingness to hurt them.

Dusk done fucked up.

Robin stops "hijacking" his missions, and Dusk starts making mistakes. Because he wasn't the only one interfering to prevent mistakes, they covered his back as much as he covered theirs. And seeing them actively dodge him in the hallways of HQ just stings, even without the reprimands towards himself ghosting around in his head. He needs to fix this.

He's not as much of a mother hen as Sun, but he does know a thing or two about taking care of others still. He also has the advantage that he isn't quite as much of a peacock as Dawn, and opts for the direct approach. His pride hates being scary to the nice if reckless new agent more than apologizing. He doesn't take as long as Dawn either, and approaches them after just a few days.

Robin still jumps when he's suddenly there, but his hands are hidden behind his back and he's standing there almost hunched. They wait, silent, for him to speak - and he does, with a grimace. Still similar to his counterpart, this next bit grates.

"I'm... sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to do that - I didn't... I didn't realize."

Well, cheers, he managed the apology - as much as it sucks. Robin scoffs, not impressed either.

"What, didn't realize that someone three heads taller with sharp teeth and literal tasers for claws wouldn't be my favorite company when angry? Shocker."

Now it's his turn to flinch, but reaching out still forces them a step back, so he pulls his hands back. Fidgets with them, a nervous habit he knows he shouldn't indulge, Sun already does that more than enough.

"I underestimated you, on multiple accounts. And I guess... I got used to you not being afraid. Everyone else is."

His fingers creak then, and when Robin glances at his hands, he hides them behind his back again. It makes them think - and well... They know what the other agents think of Dusk, always reacting with disbelief when they mention joining him for missions, and rather unwilling to discuss him as if he has eyes everywhere. The others are afraid.

But the agent in front of them right now? Is... kind of a dork, who hides his hands because he thinks they're scared of every little movement, and he's kind of weird about eye contact too, as if even his normal eyes would scare them, and they are pretty sure they've never seen him without the sharp teeth before, either.

He's trying. He's just kind of stupid about it. They sigh, and decide to offer an olive branch.

"Fine, Mr. Sandman, apology accepted. You can stop looking like the strangest kicked puppy I've ever seen now."

"... Mr. Sandman?"

He looks at them, somewhat hesitant - that won't do. They exaggerate a shrug.

"What, would you prefer Moon man?"

"No."

"Neat. You're getting that, then."

He smiles then, somewhat slowly, but it morphs into a grin easily. It's new, still, but it's nice, and he can't help but try it out.

"Chirp chirp chirp, the little robin sings again."

"... Hood. Robin Hood."

They squint at his grin, and sharp teeth click back into place. They aren't scared.

Dusk straightens, and then moves to walk past them. It's sudden, and they don't quite process it until his hand is already on their head and removing the little hair tie. They gasp, offended, and he twirls it on his finger when they turn.

"Give that back!"

"Next mission, little bird. Try to get it back."

He whistles as he leaves, and Robin has the sudden urge to strangle someone 1) who's neck they can barely reach and 2) who doesn't need to breathe. But he invited them - well, he better not complain then. If he insists on the bird names, well, they'll be a canary - he'll regret ever asking them to be loud again.

(He won't regret it. After this, Dusk is well aware why it's bad news when a canary stops singing - and he'd rather not have a scare like that again. They aren't quite comfortable after this, at best comparable to early rivalry senior agent Robin and rookie Dusk, but they're getting there, and both are too stubborn to work with anyone else. Works out for them, after all)

#answer let luce #anonymous #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #hatchling au #my art #I kinda. I kinda thought I'd talk about more than just these two scenes but uh. oops? #1.7K words whoopsie #the other doodles are more general dynamic vibes *before* these scares #slightly more forgiving Dawn/ Dusk after the scares; as they know the alternative is worse #... even if Robin still likes to test their patience #nerves of steel they may have but Robin is a very determined hack saw and proud of it #they're the only one who can annoy the star agent and get away with it <3

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Grief in all its Strangeness

Heyyyy so today has not been a great day. I was wondering if you could write something for Merlin or maybe the Avengers about that feeling when someone has died (by suicide, but you can ignore that if you'd like (you can ignore this whole ask if you'd like)) and you didn't actually know them, or even interact with them ever but you crossed paths occasionally and now they're gone and it just feels wrong. And somehow you also feel guilty? Idk. Your stories are always a comfort for me :) – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: suicide, one of the knights (not a main character) commits suicide offscreen, it is not shown/recounted but the fic revolves around the grief after the incident

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 2146

One of the knights is dead.

Merlin didn't know it at first; that would explain why he'd barged into Arthur's chambers and been surprised that the Prince was already out of bed—granted, not dressed and out of bed, but out of bed nonetheless—and why Arthur had been even snappier with him than normal. And it wasn't one of those 'fun' snappy moods either, the ones where Arthur's getting a bit overwhelmed with the pressures of being a prince and all that came with it, and he needed to mess around or he'd go insane—Morgana's words, not Merlin's. No, this was one of the moods where Merlin figured out he needed to put his head down and get out before it escalated to one of them saying something they really didn't mean.

He finds out from Lancelot what's happened.

"One of the newest knights was found yesterday," Lancelot says, taking Merlin off to a side corridor where no one ventures often, his hands hidden beneath the swaths of red fabric and his voice too low to tremble, "I imagine the Prince is taking it harder than most."

"Why would Arthur be taking it harder?"

"This knight was one of the youngest Camelot ever trained. And he was found with…" Lancelot's breath stutters and he quickly coughs. "It's quite obvious what he died from. Why he died."

Oh.

Oh.

"Oh, no," Merlin mumbles as Lancelot nods solemnly, "I'm—I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," for how could Lancelot not be grieving too? "I—hh. It was a surprise, to be sure. It seemed like he was…well, like he was fine. I suppose we never really know for sure, do we?"

Merlin nods. His head spins with the idea of one of Camelot's knights, his body found by his brothers-in-arms, and then not even able to find the thing that killed him because, well…

"I don't mean to muddy your day with—"

"You're not muddying anything," Merlin interrupts quickly, "I asked, you told me. Thank you. And, um, I'm sorry for your loss too."

Lancelot smiles ruefully, nodding once more and clapping his hand against Merlin's shoulder. As he turns to walk away, Merlin's hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He stops, turning back, and Merlin swallows.

"You've got me," he says in a rush, "you—you know you've always got me, right?"

Lancelot's brow furrows for a moment, before realization dawns and his mouth opens a few times, trying to form words. Merlin just stares at him, waiting, until another smile forms on his face, sweeter than the last.

"I do," he says, stepping back into Merlin's space and taking Merlin's arm too, "of course, I do."

"Right."

"Right."

"Is this—do knights hug, or—?"

And he actually gets Lancelot to chuckle as he opens his arms, letting Merlin give him a hug and whispering another thank you into the space between them before he pulls away. He watches Lancelot walk away, red cloak billowing out behind him, and looks down at his own ruddy hands to see the calluses and blisters that have started to show a similar color.

That does explain why Arthur was in a mood, and despite himself, Merlin feels a pang of sympathy for him. It was one thing to be a knight right now, he supposes, to have lost one of your brothers, but quite another to be the Prince: responsible for his training, for him, and still for the rest, and not able to talk to anyone. For who could Arthur talk to who would listen? The other knights—well, if they could get over the power imbalance between knight and prince, that would be miracle enough. Then there might be those who blame Arthur for the knight's death, or who could be placed in an equally volatile situation. And none of the other nobles would have the same emotional weight that Arthur would, he was the only one who was a knight, who trained and lived and breathed with them.

And the King…

The day Uther Pendragon cares about something, not as an extension of himself, but for it and it alone, Merlin will walk into the lake and never emerge again.

So: who does Arthur have? Well, he has Merlin.

Not that Arthur would ever really admit it, not in front of anyone in any way that matters, but he does have Merlin. And so, Merlin will be there for him, in any way he can.

He orders Arthur's favorite foods from the kitchens for dinner. It's a massive platter—but then again all of Arthur's meals tend to be—and he staggers into the wall a fair few times going up the stairs, but he gets it on the table before Arthur can look up from his desk. He turns his back and picks up another chore before Arthur can see what he's done, scrubbing at a determined spot on Arthur's gauntlet.

He keeps his ears pricked for the pause in the scritch-scratch of Arthur's quill, waiting until he can peek over his shoulder at the scrape of Arthur's chair.

"Merlin."

"Mm?"

"These are…" Arthur clears his throat. "Thank you."

Merlin hides a smile. "You're welcome. Figured you'd be hungry."

"You saying I'm fat?"

"I'm saying that it must take a lot of energy to do all that work without taking a break."

A soft huff but it's a laugh—he made Arthur laugh, just a little. He looks over his shoulder again and sees the remnants of a smile on Arthur's face as he tucks into his dinner, and he allows his own to bloom again as he goes back to scrubbing at the metal. Arthur's chambers fade back into the quiet sounds of their coexisting as Merlin's hands go bright with exertion, until everything gets suspiciously quiet and he turns just in time to catch a roll of bread flying at his face.

"Oi!"

"Thought you looked a bit peckish," Arthur grins, getting up and going back to his desk, and Merlin gnaws off a bite and sweeps the crumbs onto an empty plate.

This…this he can do.

He doesn't order Arthur's favorite every time, but he makes sure he orders the things that he likes. He does his worst chores when Arthur isn't in the room, or at least keeps the obnoxious ones to a minimum and makes deals with the other servants to have them taken care of while they're out during the day. He plays the fool, the jester, the easy target when he needs to, and if he can send Arthur off to bed with a smile more nights than not, he counts that as a win.

It's not…easy to check in on the knights as well, but it's easier than it should be. Arthur trains the knights, after all, and Merlin would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed the way he's being a little softer, a little kinder with them in the wake of the death that's occurred. A few of the senior knights lend themselves to their brothers as well—he sees Lancelot comforting two squires who have tears in their eyes, he sees one of the sword-master's regular demonstration partners speaking softly to a young knight whose hands won't stop trembling, he sees Leon holding who he later learns was the knight's beloved, letting him cry into his shoulder without saying a word.

He happens upon the three of them in the armory later that evening and wordlessly returns with a tankard of the finest wine he can lay his hands on, three goblets, and a small plate of pastries. He doesn't speak to the third knight, but both Leon and Lancelot find him the next day and pass on their thanks. After that, well, it becomes a habit to walk past the armory to see if there's anyone else waiting there.

He's thinking about how many plates of cinnamon pastries he'll have to ask the baker for when Gaius yells in shock and he looks down to see he's burned his hand.

Gaius frets and scolds him for not paying more attention as he carefully wraps up his hand, but Merlin can't stop looking at the red, red, red skin beneath the sickly pale bandages. He doesn't pick at it, but he tugs them down just enough so he can see the bright color again. Arthur gives him a curious look when he sees the wrappings and he mumbles some excuse about being clumsy that Arthur laughs at. He finds himself looking at it throughout the day, the bright red skin.

It is a strange thing to be surrounded by grief.

Merlin didn't know this knight. He didn't know their name—well, he knew their name now, his name was Larkin—he didn't know what he liked to do in his spare time, he didn't know his favorite food, he didn't know what Larkin wanted out of life. And yet as he watches the knights grieve, watches Arthur grieve, his chest fills with a selfish desire to know, so that he might grieve too.

The first time that thought crosses his mind, he balks at it. Who is he to wish for grief? Who is he to want to steal the pain of others and hoist it onto his own shoulders? Is it not enough that he is here for the ones he does know, the ones he does care about, while they grieve in their own ways?

The burn blisters.

He thinks of Larkin, cold in the middle of the night. He thinks of his body on a smoldering pyre. He thinks of the acrid smoke in his throat and eyes. He thinks of Freya at the bottom of an endless ocean.

He thinks of his own shaking hands, red and blistered, and spends a thoughtless night awake and alone in the dark, staring unseeing at his own grief.

Distantly, he realizes that this is selfish too, in its own way. If he should mourn, should he not mourn this loss? Why is he mourning a loss that could only be his own, when he could make his suffering communal? But he could no more wish his own grief away than he could unburn his hand, which aches and itches under the bandages as it glows red and warm. He thinks of the strange numbness in his gut when he sees the knights grieve, and of the burning guilt in his chest that no one else shares his.

He lets Gaius change his bandages and goes up to Arthur's chambers.

When he opens the door, Leon and Lancelot up from their seats at the table and he instantly turns, going to fetch the mead, the ale, the wine, but Arthur's voice stops him.

"Merlin, come sit."

Merlin sits. Leon looks at him for a moment, then down to his hand, and holds out his own. After a moment, Merlin lets him have it, the other clenching in his lap at the twinges as Leon examines the burn.

"Nasty thing," he says quietly, "how did it happen?"

"Wasn't paying attention. Got distracted."

Leon hums, looking back up, but he doesn't let go of his hand. Merlin's brow furrows, mouth opening to ask what's happening, when there comes a knock at the door. On instinct, he rises to answer, but Leon's hold keeps him seated as Lancelot goes instead. He returns with a platter of baked apples, still slightly bubbling, and Merlin's eyes widen. Over the last of the steam, he sees Arthur smile just a little, coming to sit across from him. He feels Lancelot's hand settle in the crook of his shoulder, still slightly warm from handling the platter.

"We're here for you too," he says softly, and Merlin's eyes fill with unshed tears.

Arthur's chair scrapes across the floor. His boots thud as he rounds the table and strong hands pull Merlin up from the chair and into a solid chest. The wind leaves him at the sudden rush of solidwarmArthur around him and the gasp jars the tears from his eyes. The last thing he smells before his nose closes is the slightly toasted spice of the apples and the faint trace of polish from Arthur's armor. Arthur's chin hooks over his shoulder.

"Go on," he murmurs, "it's okay."

Grief is still strange to Merlin. Comfort doesn't have to be.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #dragonbabbles #fic

[amynchan]

ngl, sometimes when I'm posting, I have the endless train of thoughts like "Oh, not everyone will get your post, and you'll be yelled at for being a horrible, horrible bitch!" Which, yes, has happened in the past, but also further in my past than tumblr.

But, like, seriously. The actions you choose to take—and even some that are thrust upon you—have consequences.

I care very much that it's not something anyone wants to hear, but it needs to be heard. And understood.

I am not saying that consequences should be Avoided at All Costs. That's how I lived my formative years, and it fucking sucks. What I am saying is that the consequences will happen, and it's your choice on whether you wanna deal with them or not.

If you say something to a friend that you know will hurt them, they will be hurt. That's the consequence.

If you apply for the job and put your all into it and get it, you will get a new job and have to make some changes to your lifestyle. That's the consequence.

If you decide not to show up for classes and ignore all of your assignments, you will fail. That's the consequence.

There's no magic "but I don't want that to happen!" button. If you make a choice, if you take an action, if you do A Thing, there will be Consequences.

The consequence of this post is one of three: it gets ignored, I get yelled at by people who think I mean something that I don't, or people agree with me. Before I hit the 'post' button, I had to make peace with all three outcomes. Those are possible consequences of my action.

Just... as someone who teaches at the college level, it's disheartening to see people not grasp this concept. If you do a thing, a consequence will follow. It's not even a "that's just how it is" thing all the time that everyone wants to rail against for the Greater Good (which??? greater good for whom????? what are you railing against, and why??? can you answer those questions??? is there actual justice at play, or is it another ploy????). To be perfectly frank, the consequences I set in my own class are a safety measure that I put in place to protect myself and other students, and if we follow the safety measure, everything is fine (for whom? myself and students. I need to not burn out so that I'm in optimal teaching and fair evaluation mode. I need to have patience to explain the same concepts several times. I need to quickly identify reoccurring patterns and adjust my teaching style as necessary in order to best teach. There are reasons for the consequences). If you ignore the safety measure, consequences happen (I burn out, the grading loses some of its in-favor-of-the-students flexibility, my answers to genuine questions and calls for help get snappier, I lose zest for my job and students lose a teacher who gives a fuck). That's just how it goes. And it will keep going that way as long as I'm responsible for the learning and wellbeing of all 100+ students that are in my classes, not even counting the ones who reach out to me and/or need a pickmeup because life sucks sometimes.

Got off topic. But the point is that you are not exempt from Consequence. You can be worked with, and sometimes there are exceptions, but you are not immune to the backlash from your own actions. Your actions will bring you pain, stress, and frustration. Your actions could also bring you joy, contentment, satisfaction, or peace.

Like, literally. Consequences. They are a thing. I wish more people got that, and it's kind of scary to watch some of the guys, gals, and nonbinary pals in my classes think that they are Immune from it all.

...can you tell that it's a frustration?

#consequences

[shadedsecrets]

Recently I have been thinking about the phenomena of 'forgetting or minimizing the terrible things a character you like does and treating/writing them like an innocent lil guy even though they have done some SHIT.' I am personally dubbing this 'Rose-Tinted Blorbo' until such a time as something snappier comes along. It's something I have noticed myself doing without realizing it, and then I got to thinking about why.

Not going to write a post telling anybody HOW they have to enjoy a character, because that's... silly, and really none of my business. Enjoy what you enjoy, interoperate your favorites the way that makes you happiest, anyone telling you to stop is a cop. People can consume other fan content, the ORIGINAL content... and make their own to better cater to their tastes, no one can stop anyone else from doing this. But examining WHY this is a thing feels worth-while, so hey, why not.

I am not and expert, but I can think about why I have done it and offer some thoughts...

For me, at least... I am a terrible sucker for the general theme of 'Needing and FINALLY GETTING help'. So when I see a character that I like.... who has been through it and has definitely not finished processing it... Well, my little heart focuses right in on that aspect of their character. Like, for a recent example..... Astarian from Baldur's Gate III.

The man is a murderer. Not even remorseful about it, he has killed people and killing whatever is theoretically threatening him is the first reaction he has. It is clear that this is coming from a very dark place for him if you pay attention... But the man is still a murderer with no real plans to stop. In my brain, however... well, it knows the parts that really got it interested in the character, the aspects that it wants to play with, so this gets, on occasion..... sidelined. This also showed in my early fics with other characters I liked, where their need for support would be prioritized over all other characterizations... to their and the fic's detriment.

Does taking Astarian's volatile and extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms elevate the trauma and how intimate and scary it would be to work through it? Definitely! Is facing the consequences of a smarmy bastard's own behavior really great to watch? For sure! Does my brain still sometimes focus in on how hurt a character is instead of what they have done with that hurt and the sheer cruelty they used their pain as an excuse for? ....Some moments, yeah.

Some days I just want this person I like to see feel a little less hurt. Sometimes I want the glimmer of good inside them to be bigger and brighter than it really is. Sometimes I want them to have made different choices and see just how different they would be because of that. And sometimes, I want them to be horrible gremlins gleefully causing chaos on purpose and living for it, or complicated and tragic and screaming for blood the whole way down.

And I don't think that's a bad thing, necessarily, as long as you can stop and notice when you do put blinders on. Characters have multiple dimensions, and they feed into each other and strengthen each other when they are written well! Realizing that someone is a product of a really fucked up situation and holding them responsible for what they CHOSE to do are not mutually exclusive concepts.... but they are nuanced and complicated and there are some days where I don't want to think that hard.

That's okay. But it is so much more fun when you can look at a character from every angle and see both someone in need and deserving of love... and someone who is causing problems on purpose and needs to be stopped for everyone else's sake.

#long post #Rose-Tinted Blorbo #don't mind me just thinking through some stuff #really tho enjoy characters how you want to just be aware of what you are doing

[waiting-on-a-dream]

Prisoners' relationships with each other (Start of trial 2)

I should have posted this earlier, but better late than never, right?

Ichiro

He still isn't going out of his way to interact with anybody. Due to his increasingly violent habits and self-muttering, the other prisoners keep their distance from him, further isolating him from everyone. He can no longer stand to look at or talk to the innocent prisoners, including Noa whom he had taken a liking to in the first trial.

Daisuke once tried to stop him from self-harming, but he had retaliated violently. The man hasn't approached him since, which he is quite pleased with. Kiyoshi hasn't given up on restraining him whenever he tries to hurt himself though. Perhaps its because he's a cop, Kiyoshi isn't deterred by Ichiro's kicking and scratching.

Akane

She is now less prickly and aggressive, making her more approachable for the other prisoners. She hangs out with Yui nowadays, allowing the older woman to style her hair (mostly out of pity). Now that she's no longer so afraid, it wouldn't hurt to interact with the others more. But the other guilty prisoners aren't very eager to talk to her, so she keeps a respectable distance.

Daisuke

He doesn't flirt with the women in Milgram anymore, which ironically makes them more comfortable around him. Yui isn't very approachable at the moment, so he mostly talks to Suzume and Noa. He even helps out with cooking sometimes (when he's hungry and wants dinner to be served faster).

He misses his friend more than ever and has started talking to Noa about him during her drinking sessions. He drinks with her and she shares about her husband as well.

Suzume

She's become more friendly and is often trying to keep the Milgram. The guilty prisoners aren't in a good headspace, unwilling to even listen to Haku who was the voice of reason in the first trial, so she struggles to keep them calm and happy.

Yui and Mayumi no longer approach her due to the difference in verdicts. Suzume worries for them but doesn't know how to approach them. She's also grown closer to Noa as Milgram's big sister figures. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

Haku

He's been trying to approach and get along with the guilty prisoners, with varying results, but none of them have attacked him, so his efforts are going well so far. He's warmed up to everyone in Milgram, and shares Suzume's desire for everyone to get along.

Mayumi has been more quiet and withdrawn lately, but she still treats him well. She sits next to him sometimes when he's practicing the piano, telling him about she was trying to protect everyone too. It seems she's trying to relate to his crime, but he doesn't know why. He nods along anyway.

Yui

Yui avoids the innocent prisoners, feeling bitter and envious over the privileges they enjoy due to their verdicts. Akane is the only one she can tolerate, simply because the girl's new friendliness delights her.

Rin

He still doesn't interact with anyone. He's even snappier now due to his guilty verdict. The only one he talks to is Noa, though she has to approach him first and he only replies to her in short sentences.

Noa

She's taken up the responsibility of cooking for everyone now that Mayumi has been voted guilty. Everyone needs to eat, so they're okay with her. Yui and Mayumi no longer approach her, so they've stopped talking. She's grown closer with Suzume and maintains a good relationship with Kiyoshi. Ichiro won't look at her anymore, but Rin is still civil enough to answer her when she talks to him. Daisuke is her new friend, they can be sad together. :D

Kiyoshi

He's still friendly with everyone, though the guilty prisoners make it very obvious that they don't appreciate his efforts. His friendship with Mayumi has come to a tragic end due to their difference in verdicts. She doesn't want to talk to him, so he doesn't approach her much. He's still on good terms with Noa and Suzume, but Daisuke hasn't stopped avoiding him. Ichiro pretty much hates him now for always stopping him from self-harming (he didn't like Kiyoshi much in the first place). Too bad Kiyoshi feels responsible for the safety of everyone.

Mayumi

She's a bit miffed about not being able to cook anymore, but at least Noa and Suzume have stepped up. She can respect them for that. Also, friendship with Kiyoshi has ended, Haku is now her new best friend. Yes, Haku was voted innocent too, but his motive was similar to Mayumi's. So she likes him.

#milgram #milgram oc #milgram original character #ocgram #prisoner 001: kanai ichiro #prisoner 002: kobayashi akane #prisoner 003: iwamoto daisuke #prisoner 004: toma suzume #prisoner 005: endo haku #prisoner 006: sasaki yui #prisoner 007: shigeru rin #prisoner 008: watanabe noa #prisoner 009: miyahara kiyoshi #prisoner 010: okura mayumi

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

4 7 15 and 20 for Autumn! Hier sind kekse.

[meta asks for writers]

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

I'm pretty fond of this monster of a sentence from my very first draft of WBotB:

"So instead of knocking, he’d turned quietly on his heel and stepped outside for a cigarette. But nicotine couldn’t quell synthetic nerves, so he’d been leaning up against the brick face of the building fiddling with his lighter and trying to decide between a second useless smoke and marching back to her room to make sure she was alright and to tell her he understood when she’d pushed open the front door and turned immediately to him with something approaching relief written on her face."

It's unlikely that I'll keep it, since in the moment Nick is relaying something that's already happened and in the present draft we're just going to be there for that scene, but it's a good sentence I think.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

I'd like to think I've got a snappy and to-the-point writing style that really gets across what's going through the characters' heads--even if I'm longwinded and like digging into weeds and minutiae, I hope I don't make things drag too much.

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Ugh, titles. Every title I come up with is a placeholder for a long time. Like, What Becomes of the Brokenhearted was Until Dawn until right before I published the first chapter (and it's still tagged as that on this tumblr). Ghost Lights needs a snappier (and more relevant) title and Eye of the Storm needs a less sinister one. It's just something I have to let percolate for a long, long time.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

There are a lot of birds-as-portents in WBotB, especially crows. Speaking of that fic, it's very interconnected, with lots of callbacks to itself as well as to in-game events that don't happen on-page, to the point that I'm actually having to balance what I include so I'm not either 1. reiterating game events that don't need to be reiterated or 2. reiterating so little that what story is left doesn't make sense. I guess an understood caveat of fanfic is you should be familiar with the source material, but I'm also running everything past a beta who's never played Fallout 4, so...

Probably my favorite friendship development in it is Piper and Nora. Nora sees a lot of herself in Piper--as the responsible older sister--and relates to her on a very personal level. A lot of Nora's past with her own sisters affects the way her relationship progresses with Piper, and she's able to come to peace with some of the things that happened while helping Piper. Ultimately it's just a very sweet friendship that I hope others like reading about.

As far as other fics go, there's a lot of interconnectedness in Eye of the Storm too. One of the characters in the first chapter even says "Everything's connected somehow." There's also a theme of cycles, and that everything that has happened before is happening now will happen again, and that it takes awareness and a conscious effort to break a cycle--but it can be done.

I'm sure I'll come up with symbolism for Ghost Lights but at the moment it's just an action- and violence-filled romp. Maybe it's about the power of friendship; we'll see.

#danke schon friend! <3 #autumn.fic #fic: until dawn #autumn.oc #oc: nora navarre #fic: eye of the storm #fic: ghost lights

[themole]

keyboard broke the DAY after my time sensitive exam lmao thank god it waited,,,, the rabbit hole of searching for a new one was quite miserable and cost me most of the day,, but i think ive got a pretty full understanding of the options and everything,,, honestly im torn between a pretty solid mid tier choice and like a wooting 60HE,,,, the former option is probably all i need? but the latter does seem to have snappier button response which honestly could make more of a difference in gaming than i think,,, but getting it would be pretty bank account draining skdhdjd and like how much of a difference would it ACTUALLY make?? ive been playing a lot of cs2 recently which probably would benefit from it but it is still a slight optimization all the same,,,,,,,,,

[randomvarious]

Today’s compilation:

The Home of Grand Records 1990 Doo Wop

Grand Records was a pretty important label in the development of doo wop music. They didn't make much of an impact when it came to charting hits nationally, but they were responsible for pioneering the signature early 50s "Philly sound," a specific, extremely slow ballad style that featured leading high tenor vocals and scant instrumentation. And the implementation of that high tenor is especially important to the history of pop music, because without these high-pitched, black, Broad Street teenaged male voices, we probably don't get Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers. And without Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers, we probably don't get Michael Jackson. And without Michael Jackson, we...well, I think you can see where I'm going with this.

But unfortunately, I can't say that I personally really like any of these songs. I mean, I definitely recognize and appreciate where the doo wop lead high tenor came from, but as I keep on saying in these doo wop album posts of mine, I much prefer the snappier stuff. However, another interesting thing about all of these songs is that they seem to have little to no real structure to them; no verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus type of thing to speak of. Definitely wasn't expecting that, because stuff that pre-dates the explosion of rock and roll, as much of this comp does, was a lot more rigid, I thought 🤷‍♂️.

Still though, some of these high tenors are absolutely electric. There's this group on here, Marquis, aka The Marquees, who seem to have only ever released one 7-inch in their career, and I have no idea who their lead vocalist was, but goddamn, did that guy possess a spectacular set of pipes! Think he might've even been better than George Grant from The Castelles, who were consistently one of Grand's most successful groups. Only reason why I'm not labeling the Marquis' contribution here as a highlight is because it lacks some much needed polish.

But hey, this is where the doo wop high tenor came from. Soon you'd be hearing those infectiously high-pitched young voices in more and more doo wop tunes from across the country, and with higher tempos and more instrumentation too. But that style of voice got its start in Philadelphia, and Grand Records played a large role in its initial proliferation. So, thanks for that!

No highlights.

#doo wop #r&b #r & b #rhythm and blues #rhythm & blues #music #50s #50s music #50's #50's music #60s #60s music #60's #60's music

[thelastspeecher]

eregyrn-falls replied to your post “I was thinking about the Cajun McGucket AU a bit more and I’m trying...”

catfish farm?

okay, my first thought when you said that was “well, the Gucks do noodling even in the OG AU, bc that just feels like something they would do”

and then I realized you were not in fact referring to noodling.  so I googled it and found out that yeah, catfish farms are a thing.  what a world we live in.

I could see them running a catfish farm.  Ma Guck still does some gardening on the side, growing fruits and vegetables that sometimes find their way to the dinner table and sometimes get sold at market.

I also did a quick googling to track down the details behind the anecdote about my professor that harvested moss in a swamp.  the moss in question is Spanish moss, and is harvested for a number of different purposes.  I’m gonna say that the Gucks are sort of jacks-of-all-trades.  they grow plants, they raise catfish, and they harvest moss in a swamp.

also, Harper and Lute 1000000% give swamp boat tours to any tourists that might be in the area.

#eregyrn-falls #god noodling is the weirdest fucking thing to me #it has the potential to be rather scary and at best you just get a fish at the end #a fish that doesn't taste that good. there. I said it. catfish is gross. #LMAO Angie in this AU absolutely DESPISING the taste of catfish #Cajun Guck AU #(I might need a snappier name for it at some point but that's what I'll use for now) #also why did I not think of Harper and Lute giving swamp boat tours before #that's fucking GENIUS and those boys would be all about that #response