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#pray for me to have more time to do actual art
pb524830 · 3 days
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right where you left me
part: 1 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.6k c/w: language a/n: heyyyy everyone! my anons have been begging for another series like anyone else, so here's one i've been thinking about for a second and finally put to paper. i hope you like this just as much as 'anyone else'. btw, if you guys want to send in long ass asks live reacting to my writing (whoever @imaginespazzi 's anon is that does this, i LOVE it) it's such a great way to know what you do and don't like about my writing, and i'd so appreciate it. love you guys!
I blink as the sun hits my eyes, almost blinding me. I stretch at my front door, loosening my muscles that are still a little tight from sleep. I squint against the blaring sunlight, then push my AirPods in and start off down my street. It’s this quaint little neighborhood in Virginia, a not-too-far cry from my home state of Minnesota. 
My run is peaceful, Kendrick Lamar blaring in my ears, the music a smooth symphony of artful lyrics backed by a spurring beat. I take down about three miles, reaching what looks to be an old basketball court before slowing to a jog, then a halt. I pant, placing my hands on my hips and allowing my chest to heave as I recover from the run. My sports bra and shorts are soaked with sweat, but the summer air is refreshing.
I tip my head back, soaking in the sun, when I hear a voice behind me. “Hey, you shooting or…” I whip my head around, the voice impossibly and frighteningly familiar. 
No fucking way.
“Maya.”
“Paige,” I breathe. 
She hesitates, a ball braced at her side, and it looks so natural, just as it always has. She’s wearing a white tee shirt and dark shorts, with blue, red, and white shoes on her feet. Her hair is parted down the middle, slung into a bun at the base of her neck. My breath catches when my eyes meet her stark, blue ones - pools of crystal that glimmer in the summer sun. Her limbs are long and she’s tan, her lips stuck in that damned half-smirk that used to drive me crazy. It fades from her face a little as she takes me in, and I cross my arms over my stomach self-consciously.
“What are you… what are you doing here?” I swallow hard as I stutter over my words.
She coughs awkwardly, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. “My friend, Azzi - don’t know if you remember her, um… She lives here. In this neighborhood. But we also moved to Virginia when we- when I left for school.”
I remember Azzi. She was one of Paige’s basketball friends, a tall, pretty girl with dark hair and a kind smile. Paige clears her throat. “You… uh, what about you?” I blink. “Oh, um. Yeah, same, actually, my family moved here. Also.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
We’re quiet for a few more minutes. It’s my turn to clear my throat awkwardly.
“Still dancing?” She asks. 
I laugh nervously. “Can’t seem to stop. Still hooping?”
She smiles a little more at that. “Can’t seem to stop,” she echoes back to me. Paige hesitates for a moment.
“You look good,” she admits after a few moments.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Thanks, um… you do, too. Look good, I mean. You look great!”
She raises an eyebrow at my rambling. “Great?” She muses.
I scoff. “No, good. You look good.”
“No, I got it the first time.” Her smirk is widening, her tone teasing.
“Good.”
“Not great?” She’s pushing my buttons now.
“Paige, stop,” I blurt out.
It hangs over us - my usage of her name, the undeniable tension that lingers in the air, nearly suffocating. 
She looks down at the ground, kicking at it. “Sorry,” she mumbles. 
I sigh. “No, you’re fine. I should- I should go.”
“Maya, don’t do that. Look, I’m sorry-”
“No, I should get home. It was good to see you.” 
Stubbornly, I plug my headphones in, pretending not to hear her voice calling out my name, the sound of it echoing behind me, praying I can drown out the past if I just turn my music up loud enough.
************
“You’re doing it wrong. Put your foot down on the off beat.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Paige demands, and I bite back a grin.
Patiently, I re-explain the 8 count to her. “It’s just a stupid TikTok. Bro, you’re so extra,” she whines. I hold my hands up. “You’re the one who said you wanted to learn it for real. Like, dancer-style.” 
“I never said that.”
“I think those were actually your exact words. Okay, look-”
Paige groans. “Can we take a break?” She begs, grabbing her phone and tossing it onto her bed. She collapses onto it right after, shrugging her shirt off before falling back onto the pillows. I roll my eyes, grabbing my own phone. I sigh, looking at my notifications. Paige’s eyes flicker to mine. “What? Nicky again?” I shake my head. “It’s just… I need to break up with her.” Paige tries and fails to stifle a grin. “You think she knows?” She asks. There’s a hint of smugness to her tone that I don’t like. 
I narrow my eyes as she eases off the bed and approaches me, slinging her arms around my waist. “Knows what?” I ask. Paige smirks. “You know what,” she smiles, dipping her head to mine. I shove at her chest, but she pulls me closer. “Knows what we’re really doing?” Paige teases. “Shut up, Paige,” I chide, but she moves in, anyway, slotting her lips against mine in a slow, meaningful kiss.
Her lips work against mine skillfully, and though I’ve only kissed Paige a few times by now, melting into her is only instinct. “Did you eat my Nerds?” She demands, pulling away and licking her lips. I crinkle my nose at her. “Maybe?” She shakes her head at me, mischief glinting in her eyes, before she hoists me up, tossing me onto the bed. “You’re gonna pay for that,” she warns playfully, before tackling me, fingers poking into my sides and eliciting raucous laughter from the both of us. “Okay, okay! I’ll buy you more, stop! Stop!” I shriek. She collapses on top of me, ignoring the way I push at her shoulders. 
Paige stares down at me, then leans down to connect our lips again, mouth dancing languidly with mine. I sigh, pushing a hand into her hair and responding eagerly, winding my leg between hers. “Tell her,” she urges, pecking me once. I sigh. “I know. I feel awful about it.” She pushes her body slightly up and nudges my nose with hers. “Come on. She’s not stupid.” She tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We’re… obvious. You know?” I raise my eyebrow. “If you mean that everyone can tell how bad you want me, then yeah,” I tell her. She sucks her teeth, hitting me on the shoulder. “Tch. You know what I mean. We… were gonna happen.”
I grin at her, though I don’t mean to. “You seem pretty confident about that,” I muse. She grins back at me, her mouth hovering over mine. “Good. I am.”
***************
My run home is more of a sprint, and I’m absolutely spent when I shove through my front door. “Maya!” My mom calls. “Come help with the groceries!” I oblige, unlacing my shoes and skidding into the kitchen. My mom’s head is stuck in the fridge, trying to make room for all the new produce she’s just bought, so I make myself busy storing away the pantry foods.
“You will not believe who I ran into at the store!” My mom exclaims, poking her head out from behind the fridge door. She’s still in her scrubs, probably just having finished off a shift at work. I raise an eyebrow. “Michelle Obama?” I ask. She frowns at me. “You’re not funny.” I shrug. “I beg to differ.” 
My mom is definitely more of my best friend than my actual mom. I mean, she works so much, and I’ve had to practically raise my brother. Plus, with my dad out of the picture since… forever, she’s really all I had.
“Anyway,” she says pointedly, dusting off her hands. “I was at the store, and I ran into Bob Bueckers! Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t seen the Bueckers’ in years, and you and Paige were so close…” My mom continues speaking, I’m sure, but there’s a sudden muffled tone to it, like there’s water in my ears. 
It’s just the mention of her name. I hadn’t heard it in years, had tried my best not to even think of her because I knew it would hurt. And seeing her today…
It isn’t fair. She does look great - better, somehow. Not the tall, lanky teenager I was used to. She’s a whole woman, now - muscled and lean, much more sure of herself. And yet… so much is the same - that damned perpetual half smile on her face, the way she tilts her head, the way her eyes glint. I can’t help but wonder if other things are the same, as well.
If her hands are as warm as they always used to be.
If she still picks her face when she’s nervous.
Fuck. Stop it.
“Did you hear what I said, sweetie?”
I shake my head out of my reverie, turning back to my mom. “Uh, no?”
“I invited them over for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”
I splutter, processing what she’s just said. “I’m sorry. You what?”
*************************************
“Uh… here.”
I gingerly take the loaf of banana bread from Paige. I don’t meet her eyes as I let her, her brother, her dad, and her stepmom into the house. “Thanks,” I mumble. Drew stares up at me. “You look different,” he says matter of factly. I smile a little at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I tease. He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll let you know,” he informs me, then skips past me. My little brother, Matthew, catches sight of him, and the two of them run off eagerly to play together.
My heart squeezes a bit at this. I hadn’t realized that Paige and I… growing apart, I suppose one could call it, would mean that our brothers would lose a friendship, too. “He’s, uh… He’s tall, now,” she tries, hesitantly. I glance up at her from the side of my eye, walking to place the dessert on the dining table. She follows me. I hate that she does. I hate that she still smells like herself, that the way she looms over me feels oh-so-familiar.
I toy with the sleeve of my top nervously. “Is that- is that mine?” Paige blurts out suddenly. I glance down at my navy blue top, and my eyes widen. She’s right. It is her shirt, and I hadn’t even realized. It’s a bit big on me, and I’d found it in a box after we’d moved to the new house. “Oh. I guess so, do you want it back? I can go change?” I yammer, and she shakes her head frantically. “No! You don’t have to- That’s not what I meant, you-” She clears her throat.
“It looks nice on you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
I chance a glance at my feet, my hands, anywhere but her. She sighs. “Well, this is fucking awkward,” she mutters. I laugh hollowly. “Whose fault is that, hm?” I say, and I can’t keep the acrid taste of resentment out of my voice. I don’t miss the way her eyes flit to mine, mouth twisting with an unspoken response. “Maya-” she starts. “We should go help,” I interrupt, turning on my heel and walking quickly to the kitchen. 
As though it couldn’t get any more awkward, Paige ends up right across from me at dinner. Our parents chatter away, our little brothers in some heated discussion about basketball, and all she and I can do is pick at our food. There are onions in the stir-fry my mom made.
Paige hates onions.
I stifle a grin, despite myself. She’ll eat them, anyway, but I see her pushing them around her plate, putting it off. “Problem, Paige?” I ask sweetly. She narrows her eyes at me. “Not at all,” she shoots back. My mom abruptly stops the conversation she’s having. “Are you alright, honey? Is the food okay?” Paige nods hastily.
“Yes, Ms. Jacobs! It’s so good,” she reassures her. My mom cocks her head, sharp as ever. “Well, you’ve hardly touched it!” I bite back a laugh as Paige shovels a huge scoop into her mouth. “Really good,” she says around the food, smiling as best as she can at my mom. My mom nods, satisfied, and turns away. Paige shoots me a look, kicking me under the table.
I’m shocked. So shocked that the action is natural for her, and shocked at what I do next: kick her back. She gasps, and I guess the huge bite she’s just taken goes down the wrong pipe. She begins coughing violently, and my eyes widen. “Paige? Maya, honey, take her to the kitchen! Get her some water,” she instructs, concerned. Paige thumps her chest, holding up a hand. “All good, I swear,” she tries to say, but her coughs swallow her words.
“Okay, get up. Come on,” I sigh, walking around the table to haul her to her feet by her elbow. I drag her to the kitchen, patting her on the back. I hand her a water bottle from the fridge and she accepts it gratefully. When she looks to the ceiling, her eyes are glassy with tears. “You’re such a little shit,” I sneer. “Me?” She demands indignantly. “Yes! I didn’t even kick you that hard,” I complain.
She raises an eyebrow. “What? You want me to show you?”
“You kicked me first!” 
“You were instigating,” she hisses back.
“Spell ‘instigating’, Paige.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Find someone else to do it. That’s what college is for, isn’t it?”
We both fall silent at that. Then, realizing how close we’ve gotten, we back away.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
She sighs. “No, it’s… I deserve that.”
I bite my lip, glancing at the ceiling. “It’s fine. It’s been… what, three years?”
“Still. I should’ve-”
“Look, dude, I’m over it. I’m just giving you a hard time,” I say. Lies. I’m not over it. Not even close. 
She blinks. “Yeah, no. Of course. I’m- I’m over it, too.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
It’s so painfully awkward that I want to scream. This is someone who had seen me at my worst, who had held me sobbing when I hadn’t gotten into the school I wanted.
This is the person who sat with me when my dad died, and I had grappled with the grief of losing someone I had hardly ever known. 
This is the person who had seen all of me, who had taken my virginity, who had kissed away all my fears and made me feel loved and safe and whole - and the person who had made all of that come crashing down in one fell swoop.
And now I look at her, standing in my kitchen, far from the Minnesota homes we both grew up in. The sharp pain of ‘I don’t fucking know you anymore’ stabs at my heart, nestles into my throat, and I feel tears pricking at my eyes. 
I turn away from her and march back into the dining room.
I’m done letting her make me cry.
It’s later that night, long after Paige and her family have left, when I’m finishing up washing the dishes that I hear a knock on the door. I frown, wondering if my mom is expecting someone. Drying my hands off with a towel, I warily open the door.
It’s Paige. My breath catches.
“Hi,” she starts uneasily.
“Hey. Did you forget something?” I ask, keeping my distance.
“Huh? Oh, no. I just…” She swallows hard, looking at her feet.
She clears her throat. “Can we talk?”
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alltheangles · 2 years
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bad hair day!!!!
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wait you got me so invested in the stammer & heddy tailor au....
this is my standard disclaimer that i have never posted a fic on ao3* and for however much i say “au” i truly mean that it’s a universe that lives in my head & i am absolutely delighted to tell you all about, all the time <3 if it helps i ALSO got me so invested in the heddy & stammer tailor au
ok now that the author’s note is out of the way here’s some notes about the not!fic heddy & stammer tailor au:
stammer as the tailor from gent’s playbook, very reserved, quiet, with an excellent eye for details (honestly the evidence i have for his style sense is just that he’s best friends with pk subban so it has to be there somewhere if only by proxy irl) is hired by victor hedman, star of the tampa bay lightning who is every other tailor’s nightmare to dress (huge, opinionated, fashionable)
heddy is decently well-known throughout the league for being very well-dressed & becomes quietly well known for also being one of his new tailor’s favorite loyal customers [heddy has the nicest fabrics. he has his suits the first day a new collection drops & e v e r y o n e is jealous]
stammer’s business booms after heddy takes a chance on him as his first big client & promotes him, heddy sees him grow in popularity & get more clients
heddy also moonlights as a model for stammer’s suits on instagram, initially to help him grow his business because then he won’t have to pay for a model and then because he’s over there all the time anyway because they’re dating (that’s why the model’s face is never in the pictures)
there’s not really a plot to this besides the vague idea of a plot where stammer makes heddy his lucky suit that he wins the cup in & sews a special little tag into the lining of his jacket that says i love you
because love sometimes is picking out the perfect right color pocket square to match your husband’s beautiful suit that you fitted like a kiss to the curves of his huge body
& also sometimes love is making your beautiful husband who makes you beautiful clothing enjoy nice things for himself once in a while, like the fancy watch you bought him or the nice suit you custom-ordered for him (from him) just so you could take it off of him
#*i did very much post a zine on ao3 that was part of a really fun exchange that i loved doing (thank you leah for organizing!!!)#& had a fantastic time with however i have not strictly speaking posted a fic. one day i will. eventually. hopefully. pray for me :)#also one time my horoscope told me i was a ‘neutral projector’ & i’ve never felt more called out (‘loves making up things’/‘will not#actually write or plot but will explain every intricate detail of their world & character relationships’/‘hype up every member of the#writing chat & give good advice but never follow it’) like HI CAN U NOT DO THIS TO ME HOROSCOPE THANKS i was read to FILTH#liv in the replies#i do LOOOOOVE me a good one of them plays hockey the other one does not au sometimes they’re so fun to explore dynamics outside/inside sport#at the time i came up with this stammer was out on IR & heddy kept showing up to the playoffs in ridiculously nice suits what was i to do??#the gent’s playbook tailor will sometimes model his own suits w/o showing his own face which made it look like he had a secret model come in#heddy canonically says his suits make him feel better when he plays esp during playoffs & if he wins in a suit he’ll keep wearing it#oh also the truth of the love is in the pocket square bit? angela price i will never forget. anyway that blue suit i posted in the last ask#with the perfect pink pocket square? that pocket square is a pair of stammer’s boxers heddy took To Me. in my brain#me about the beautiful clothing: this is like daisy crying in gatsby’s silk shirts except it’s baby alpaca fur & also it’s not sad#it’s simply decadent & the inherent intimacy of a fitting mapping the body yada yada yada knowing the ways to flatter someone is a form#of loving them etc etc. love is art love is food love is given love is stored in the custom three-piece suit and tie#is this an enemies to lovers? workplace drama? is the secret plot i only just now invented & added that heddy is ‘difficult to work with’#but it’s just because he wants to look good & in the words of his own (real) tailor the hardest guy to fit because he’s so big? OHHH HOLD IT#I GOT THE PLOT IN THE TAGS Y’ALL AND IT’S STAMMER TEACHING HEDDY TO LOVE HIS BODY heddy who’s been told what to/not wear & you know.#the commodification of the body in hockey (but we’re not getting that deep) but stammer with a mouth full of pins tightening heddy’s pant#leg down even further as he listens to what heddy wants for once & lets him pick fabrics (this is the daisy shirt moment but it’s heddy#looking at fabric swatches dozens of books of them stammer helps him pick out matching linings &outsides &squares) & stammer compliments him#& they’re in love & idk NEARLY enough abt fashion but there r like codes? messages? to wearing suits i think w/the etiquette so that too#should this have also gone under a readmore? yeah probably. whoops#victor hedman#steven stamkos#tampa bay lightning
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chubs-deuce · 2 years
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current mood featuring cryptic sona me
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starpros-sunshine · 1 month
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It's is especially at one in the morning that you realise how ridiculous "I shouldn't go take dancing classes even though I desperately need a hobby that would let me fix the issue of me being so ridiculously short of breath that they genuinely worried about my health because, well, i can't dance." actually sounds. My brother in Christ you're supposed to learn how to do that there.
#apparently I have the same lung volume as someone with copd according to the tests#i don't have copd though I don't think so at least#too healthy for that#sigh there's some classmates of mine who dance I could ask them where they do it but....hmm thats always more embarrassing#when there's people you know so mean#I'd have no issue teaching tht myself but problem one is learning wrong technique can in a lot of things result in health problems#and problem too is that you can't really do stuff you need two people for alone#i don't even wanna /dance/ you know I just think knowing the standard stuff would be nice#i can walz kind of#as said you don't really get good when your partner is a blanket#but I can so the leading position in a standard waltz#ahh and I don't know if that would work out anyways I graduate next year would it even make sense to start something new now#but I really do need a hobby thats not. nothing actually I have video games but I consider those a hobby i just play them in my free time#to relax you know#it's not like I'm actually doing anything much#i mean I am#but I don't know if I'd call it a hobby#reading also isn't really a hobby to me I read in the evenings before bed i don't think thats already hobby status#and drawing lost hobby status when I picked the art major now it's something productive#but I don't want to do like. actually hard sport or anything in that direction i don't want to take up swimming again for example#i just want to do something with myself i guess#but this is all hypothetical anyways for now i better worry about my theoretical tomorrow and pray i know the question#please don't let me fuck this up#delete later
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504py · 27 days
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In Ink, Unsaid - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader
Your knight is appointed to tutor you, and he falls asleep during your lesson. It leads to a cute interaction involving his hair.
hell yeah finally got this out!! this one's a lot longer than the first part, i pray it ain't too wordy LOL. once again art by me and hope y'all enjoy!!
Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, mutual pining, almost a Leon character study. It's a little more romantic this time.
1, 2
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You don't think you've ever seen Leon make a mistake. It unsettles you a little, how much composure and perfection he seems to uphold. You tend to watch him a lot because of it, growing a strange compulsion to always have your eyes on him.
Whenever you see him through a window while passing by, the sight of him slows you down a bit before you continue on your way. Whenever he walks past the room you're in, your eyes dart to his figure on impulse, trying to take in as much information as you can before he's out of your sight. Leon walks too fast, you find yourself thinking a lot.
Paradoxically, when you're close enough to actually see his face, you find yourself unable to look at him. You try to, but he's already staring at you, and he never looks away first, so you do. Whenever you look at him, his eyebrows raise slightly, like he thinks you want something from him when you do. The pressure from it is surprisingly crushing, so you simply cannot imagine holding eye contact with Leon for more than two seconds.
This strange fascination of yours with your new knight has materialized itself in the form of behaviors that might align themselves with a stalker's. You've drunken in all the little details about him. You recognize the sound of his footsteps, the dent in his left vambrace, since he tends to guard his body with that arm, and the moles on his knuckles. Since you can't look at his face when he's actually near you, you've taken to staring at his hands or his feet. He rarely ever shifts his weight between each leg, even if he's been standing for a long time. It makes you more conscious of how you carry yourself... Speaking of posture, he tends to tilt his head to the right slightly when he rests.
Rest and any of its synonyms are words you'd rarely use to describe anything related to Leon. The most you'd seen him do something as relaxed as resting, was that night he sat by your bed till the thunderstorm passed.
So how do you know his habits when he rests? Shockingly, he's doing it right now, in front of you, during your first tutoring session together.
His eyes were rather bloodshot and dull when he entered the library, a feigned intensity in them like he was trying to convince himself he wasn't tired. He knows you notice, but you don't ask about it, and he seems to be glad you did.
"...This arrangement is rather unorthodox, is it not?" You ask as he sits down across from you.
Leon puffs out a little breath, not enough to be a sigh, but noticeable enough. You are unsure if it is out of annoyance.
"I suppose so, my lady, but your mother was the one who appointed me to tutor you today."
You frown a little. It's not like you disliked Leon at all, but you tend to find him a little too... tense to be around. He seems so structured and confident and it makes you afraid to make mistakes around him... Besides that, he's got a really intense stare that doesn't fare well with your nervous composition.
"...Do you dislike having me as your tutor, my lady?" He queries, the faintest hint of doubt and dejection in his voice.
"I–" You try to start, but he cuts you off, "It's not meant to be taken in any personal manner, my lady, but..." He takes in a sharp inhale, realizing he interrupted you and maybe stepped over a line. Leon pauses and watches you carefully, waiting to see if your expression will contort or if you'll start to reprimand him.
...You just avert your eyes, so he continues.
"Perhaps you'd fare better with someone you were more comfortable with... my lady."
You bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm rather alright, Sir Leon. I apologize for complaining."
"Forgive me for pushing, my lady, but you always feel rather tense around me. Is that for any particular reason? Perhaps I could help."
"I, uh..." Your gaze falls to your lap, "I'm just not sure why mother chose you. Your schedule is rather full as it is, is it not, Sir Leon?"
"Well, I can promise you I'm very well-educated, my lady." He says, but as he observes, it doesn't do much to soothe your nerves.
"...Spending more time with you is always a pleasure to me, my lady. I promise that to you too."
That wrinkle between your eyebrows soften, and your shoulders drop.
Leon does surprisingly well as a tutor. You suppose it's because of his rugged impression that you thought the opposite, but even the way he speaks is well-constructed and seems to have been planned in advance.
If your mother had never appointed Leon as your tutor today, you'd never have really noticed how calming his voice can be. Whenever he's spoken, it always sounded like a command, even if he's trying his best to be respectful. His voice usually comes off too strong, too deep in his chest, too loud sometimes, too much authority. Usually you tend to shrink in your skin a little whenever he speaks, but now, he sounds so relaxed that you feel like he could lull you to sleep at any moment.
Ah– it seems he's beat you to the chase, though.
It took you a little too long to notice, but Leon has fallen asleep in front of you, cheek resting against his right fist and his left hand still resting on the book's page.
You freeze up, not wanting to do anything that'd wake him up. You understand that a tutor falling asleep in front of a student would be highly inappropriate, but you still felt that it would be rude to wake him. Is he a light sleeper? You wonder how exhausted he must be to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable situation, and it makes your heart ache.
He's breathing lightly, you wait a bit, see if he'll wake up on his own. Maybe it's just your own excuse to watch him while you can.
His eyelashes are a lot longer than you thought, and you don't think you've ever seen him without that crease between his brows, and an almost-scowl on his lips. Leon's hair was of a color and style that confused you. Some days it felt brown, sometimes it was blond, or something in between. You've convinced yourself it depended on his mood or the weather. As for the length... the fringe always seemed to obscure his eyes slightly, so you've always wondered why he didn't just cut it. Especially when he wears his helmet, and he makes a bit of a fuss when his bangs get pinned underneath his visor.
Unconsciously, you've been reaching forward to brush away the strand of hair hanging in front of his nose, hoping to get a better look of his face.
Leon's eyes flutter open, his pupils adjusting to the light before they dilate as they settle on you. Your arm flinches back to your side.
He mumbles your name, intimately, no honorifics or titles, and your face warms.
"I– Leon– Sir Leon, hello," You breathe out shakily, "You fell asleep."
The message takes a few seconds to reach his just-woken-up brain, before his eyes widen and he immediately sits up properly.
Words come spilling out of his mouth, this is the first time you've seen him stutter. "I'm so sorry– I'm incredibly sorry, my lady, I apologize for my inappropriate behavior, I don't know why I dared to do such a thing, and why I keep making mistakes today–"
"Leon."
He bites on his tongue and his eyes are slightly wide as he stares at you.
"...It's alright, I promise."
The tips of his ears are a bright red, and that same flush seems to be creeping up from under his shirt collar to his neck. He takes in a few deep breaths, and he looks unsure. This is the second time you've seen him wear this look now. He takes in a deep breath.
"I... I apologize, my lady." He bows his head towards you. The roots of his hair were a deeper brown compared to the rest of his locks. You wonder if he's not even a real blond. Perhaps hours of staying under the sun lightened his hair.
You space out staring at him, and Leon straightens his neck. He can't recall maintaining eye contact with you for this long, and it makes his abdomen feel warm, even if he knows you're not really all there.
"My lady?"
You finally blink, and at the realization your blank-eyed gaze settled on him, your eyes widen and you immediately look elsewhere. You decide to rest your sight on his hands.
"Is there something wrong with my hair?" His fingers twitch, slightly restless.
"I... What makes you say that, Sir Leon?"
"You've been eyeing the top of my head for a while. I felt your hand near my face while I was waking up, as well, my lady."
Your heart skips a beat, and the way your blink catches for a second and the way you seem to choke on your spit isn't missed by the knight-now-tutor across from you.
"I-It's quite alright, my lady." He rushes out, his heart dropping at that look on your face. He's not even sure what's "alright", but he just wanted to offer you any bit of comfort so things don't escalate, in the fear he was too forward with confronting you.
He remembers the musings of his fellow knights about his hair, about how could he see with all that bother, how it could get in the way during combat, or how it just looked a little funny. Truth be told, his hair was the result of continuously forgetting to go get a haircut because he fixated so much on work, but now he keeps it out of spite. Leon insists he can do perfectly fine to anyone who says otherwise, but if it's you...
Leon breathes in slightly, and his hands move away from your line of vision. You follow them, and he's pushing his fringe back as much as he can. He's trying to tuck it behind his ears, and it almost makes you laugh, how gentle the gesture is, then you realize how beautiful he actually looks. Your cheeks warm, and you cannot look away.
"Is this better, my lady?" He asks, strangely demure in his demeanor.
You chuckle, and his heart soars at the noise, "You missed a spot." you comment, before your hand raises for a second, nearing his face.
"Ah– May I?"
"Of course, my lady." The devotion leaking from his voice is punctuated by the mole on his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.
Your fingers are slightly shaky as they clear the few strands of hair he couldn't pin back. The pads of your fingers graze his forehead, and he takes in a sharp breath. Physical contact between you two was relegated to holding onto his hand when he assisted you, and nothing more, so he wasn't a stranger to it. So he can't really understand why such a tiny act has such an effect on him.
You sit back, properly look at him, and smile. He feels slightly shy under your scrutiny, but he hopes you find him good-looking at the very least. He does have the face to pull off shorter hair, but something about it felt like you were seeing him naked. He felt under-decorated without his fussy hair.
"Mm... I think you look best just as you are."
Leon breathes out a little laugh accompanied by the toothiest smile you've seen on him thus far, which really isn't much, but it comes off just as endearing. The bags under his eyes seem to disappear as his eyes turn into happy crescents. Adoration is dancing around in his pale blue irises, and in the reflection of his dilated pupils, it's only you.
"Thank you, my lady... It makes me happy to hear that."
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
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secretwritingspot · 5 months
Text
Sleepless Nights- Soft Ending
Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader
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Rating/Content Warnings: E/18+ yeah I know I know, FINALLY SOME ACTUAL PORN from the smut writer. But yeah there's...not really fully sex because this is the softer ending but there is something. You'll see.
Summary: The soft ending of Sleepless Nights, Sanji *ahem* helps out Reader with getting to sleep.
Disclaimer(s): Like said above, this definitely isn't full smut like you might be expecting (don't worry, the rough ending gets a LOT more explicit but shh don't tell anyone I told you that). But that said, I'm still quite fond of it and hope y'all will be too!
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"...come here."
His words are barely a whisper when he speaks, keeping his voice as soft and comforting as he can for the time being. He's in motion before you can process it, moving to sit down on one of the galley's more comfortable couches and patting the seat next to him.
Distantly, you feel yourself nod wordlessly and when you swallow, your throat feels tight and your head slightly fuzzy. You can feel your cheeks heating up but everything feels far away and blurry as you sit next to him and stare down, fidgeting with your sleeves.
You don't know how to make the first move or what to expect, if anything, and pray he's better at clearing the awkward tension than you are.
"Can I touch you?"
Though the look in his eyes is almost pleading, his voice stays gentle. He needs you to be certain about this. Needs to know he can have this and wake up able to look at himself in a mirror the morning after.
You nod and hope it's answer enough, your words failing you for the second time that night.
Thankfully it is, and he smiles gently at you like you're a work of art, the most perfect thing he's ever seen. He pulls you into his lap and wraps his free arm around you so that your back is cuddled into his chest as he keeps his voice close, low and comforting.
"Relax, sweetheart. Just relax."
He moves his other hand to your chin and turns your face upwards towards him, and when you finally meet his eyes his breath hitches in his throat.
Breathless. Somehow, you always render him breathless.
Before he can think any better of it he leans down and kisses your jaw, continuing to reassure you along the way as he peppers kisses across your skin. "Take a breath," he instructs gently, pausing for a few seconds before pulling you closer again, his kisses slowly moving down your throat.
Whether it's his words or the affectionate way he touches you, it works- you sigh shakily and relax into his arms, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes and melt into the gentle attention.
You...haven't gotten attention like this in a long, long time.
It makes sense, none of you have. After all, you've been on a ship for months, none of you with a partner on board. It could get...lonely, missing that kind of affection for so long. Even among friends.
Sanji himself was no exception.
His soft hands move up your arms, then across your collarbone. Sanji had an inkling that you had been feeling lonely, and you may not have mentioned it, but it was something he'd always known about you. It made his heart hurt thinking about it- you seemed like the type that could be a bit...needy.
"Shh, that's right darling, just like that. Relax for me, pretty girl."
Still, Sanji knew that those types - people who were needy, who craved affection and love - they don't do so well on pirate ships, even with a crew as lovely as theirs. And it's no shock, really. The sea could get lonely, especially with no one to hold you. But he does his best to make up for that now, all soft touches and softer words. It's hard for him to stop some of his deeper feelings for you from slipping their way into his strings of praise, but he tries.
One of his hands toys with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath, placing a hand lightly on the bare skin of your waist. You can't help but gasp quietly at the initial, almost overwhelming warmth of his hand on the bare skin of your waist and Sanji coos softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
"Shhh, that's it, love. Let yourself feel it," he whispers with a small, fond smile as his fingers trail higher up your body, one arm wrapped comfortingly around your waist while the other starts to feel along the bottom edge of your bra. His hands move slowly, taking his time to get a feel for the fabric and all it's details.
To his joy, you do- letting your head fall back to lean against his shoulder with a sigh. He moves his other hand under your shirt with equal caution, not moving other than to get the thin fabric out of the way. The warm hand pressed flat to your stomach caresses reassuringly as the other seems adamant on memorizing every inch of the fabric under your shirt.
You try not to think about how right this all feels.
"I'm going to take good care of you, honey. I'll make sure you get your rest."
His voice is still quiet when he speaks, but now his words carry an undertone of something more raw as he whispers in your ear. His heart aches pleasantly at the way you relax into him, his hands tracing lazy, absent-minded shapes on your skin.
"...a pretty girl like you deserves more than a ship like this, you know."
He hides the emotional admission under an advancement of his touch, sliding a hand into the cup of your bra.
You dissolve into a soft, pretty sigh and arch slightly into his touch. His warm, soft words make you shiver- the idea that you deserve better, that somehow even this, the most wonderful you've felt in months, isn't good enough.
"This ship and I may never be worthy of your perfection, love. But if you need sleep, then you'll get it," he assures as his hand keeps working your chest as he whispers to you, thumbing gently at a nipple as he leans in to press his lips to your throat.
His affection surrounds you in an intoxicating way and you keen softly, melting into him. It feels like Sanji is everywhere- his lips on your neck, leaving affection in the form of peppered kisses as he lavishes you in praise and reassurance. His arms wrapped around you securely, his chest a safe haven to lean into. One of his hands caressing your chest as the other teases his fingers across the skin of your lower tummy, slowly working his way down. You feel completely enveloped in him, absorbed and protected and warm.
Your reaction only encourages Sanji, his words growing husky as things slowly become more intimate, more desperate.
"God, sweetheart. How long has it been since you've felt this way? Since you've had someone take care of you properly?"
"Don't know-"
You admit in a breathless whisper, gasping softly as his hand skates closer and closer to your panties.
His touch makes it hard for you to think, let alone speak. You feel floaty- hazy and fuzzy around the edges and tired, yes, but mostly just warm. He'll take care of you. He'll put you to sleep.
"A while."
"Too long," He whispers back almost immediately, the soft brush of his fingers now just on the edge of your panties. Sanji lets out a low groan at the thought of you being without someone for so long. Sanji was going to fix that.
"You going without this for any amount of time is too long. Let me make up for it, love. You deserve that much, at least."
You can't help but mewl in response to his words, especially now that his fingers are brushing over your panties. Finally, relievingly, he presses the heel of his palm down over your core, applying soft pressure in a way that makes you see stars. The breath leaves your lungs for a moment and you whimper breathlessly, melting.
His hand holds in place for a moment, making you squirm as he teasingly grinds his palm down on your clit. Sanji moves slowly but surely, making sure not to rush too quick. You had been waiting far too long, after all, so a nice slow burn before anything else was probably ideal.
"That feel good, sweetheart?"
You nod hastily, trying to construe just how good it feels before your voice finally comes back to you.
"Perfect," you answer in a breathless whisper, nuzzling into the space beneath his jaw. It really is, it's everything - the gentle pressure of his palm where you need him the most, rubbing in slow, steady circles that make you keen. His other hand massaging your chest, lips and teeth at your neck, nipping softly and whispering in your ear. " 's perfect, Sanji, please."
He hums happily in response, breath catching in his throat at the sight of you. You melt so easily at his touch, like butter in a pan. He thinks if he doesn't get you off right now so you can sleep peacefully he might die of regret, especially since you asked so nicely. He moves his palm in slow circles against your sweet spot in a way that makes you gasp, tracing his nose lightly along the cut of your jaw with a comforting whisper, voice raspy with desire.
"Shh, sweetheart, I've got you. I'll make it all better."
You can already feel yourself working your way up to something as your hips rock back against his hand instinctively and your thighs twitch.
It's so good, it's barely anything at all and yet it's so good, like sugary coffee late in the morning or the warmth of sunlight through windows or a million other things your mind is too tired to conjure right now. It feels like salvation, like a promise of well-earned rest.
Your breaths stutter and catch on the way out and soon each one is a needy whimper, thankful you're too exhausted to be loud as your voice reaches an embarrassingly desperate pitch.
"Shh, sweetheart, let it out," he soothes, tone encouraging and soft and entirely too much. "Come for me."
And you do, the request punctuated by Sanji starting to slowly speed up the circles that his palm grinds into your sex, other hand switching from caressing your curves and simply holding you to thumbing at your nipple at the same time.
The combination of the two feelings is all it takes to push you over the edge, breath catching in your throat with a desperate sort of relief as you finally come undone. It isn't anything intense, but it isn't meant to be- it washes over you in gentle waves, your exhaustion finally starting to sink in as you shiver, riding out the final ebbs and flows of the feeling.
Something about the subtlety of it make it the most beautiful thing Sanji's ever seen.
The way your voice cracks slightly on that final whimper, the way your hips continue to twitch into his palm as you ride it out, the way your thighs tremble and the rest of you just melts, going limp in his arms.
"Atta girl, sweetheart," he whispers, awe-struck.
He keeps moving his hand for a few more moments until your movements finally taper out and you start to relax more deeply against him. He can feel your heart beating, every soft breath, the exhaustion that now hangs in the air, thick and palpable.
In the soft, dark atmosphere of the galley, Sanji moves his hand back up to your waist and simply holds you, the other coming up to comb through your hair as he presses a kiss to your temple.
"You did so wonderfully."
Your only real response to the whispered praise is to hum in satisfaction and mumble something you think was supposed to be words, but you really aren't sure, your sleeplessness finally starting to catch up with you as you're slipping quite quickly.
You're clingy when you come down, he notices, and tucks that fact away in his mind for later when he's feeling romantic. You nuzzle your head into his chest and stay curled up, eyes still closed like you have every intention of falling asleep right then and there.
He would let you, he realizes, looking down at you with a near painful warmth in his chest. Happily.
"...sweet dreams, my love."
He whispers, keeping his voice as quiet as possible to avoid rousing you from the nap you've slipped into and pulling you even closer against him. Though he knows you're already asleep, he can't help but run his fingers through your hair and press tender kisses against your forehead. It's only a few moments later, once his focus is no longer entirely on taking care of you, that his nose twitches.
An odd, acrid smell fills his lungs and permeates the room. Smoke. Something that should be comfortingly familiar twists with the undercurrent of something gone wrong and he cocks his head in an attempt to identify the possible threat before his eyes go wide with an entirely different kind of panic.
Ah, fuck. The rest of the pastries.
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towards-toramunda · 8 months
Text
Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:
- What’s my mother’s name?
- My best. Finally.
- I have so many flowers to bring to her.
- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.
- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)
- At dawn, we plan.
- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!
- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?
- Sleep well with your bad decisions.
- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.
- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.
- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.
- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.
- Time is one of my specialties.
- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.
- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.
- I smell like a crayon.
- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.
- I think I can punch ghosts now.
- Big moon, little moon.
- Pop, pop!
- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.
- Molly said not to steal from happy people.
- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.
- Smiley day to ya!
- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.
- We’re on the moon bitch.
- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)
- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.
- I would like to RAGE!
- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.
- We're running; it's bad.
- You can reply to this message.
- Dagger, dagger, dagger.
- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?
- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.
- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.
- Help, its again.
- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.
- I’m fun scary.
- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.
- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.
- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.
- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.
- You need me more than I need you.
- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.
- I made the earth remember him.
- Come correct or get corrected.
- Do not go far from me.
- Are you worth saving?
- How do I want to do this?
- Heaven to some, and hell to others.
- Fix him!
- Why do we tell stories?
- Do you spice?
- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!
- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.
- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.
- Would you like to talk before or after?
- What the fuck is up with that?
- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.
- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.
- Time is a weird soup.
- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.
- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.
- Why are you so mean to me?
- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.
- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.
- I live as long as Whitestone lives.
- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!
- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.
- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.
- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.
- Call me child one more goddamned time!
- Finish it, Champion.
- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.
- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.
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amyispxnk · 2 months
Text
My Kind of Woman
Chapter 1: Special.
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Series Masterlist
Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.
Chapter summary - You and Joel finally sit down together after a year of stolen glances.
A/N: OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE WRITTEN A FIC I MISSED IT SM. Let’s all collectively pray that I actually finish this series, btw. It kind of just came to me earlier today and I barely have anything planned but.. you know me by now.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: alcohol, light language, (kind of) fluff, nothing much really in this chapter
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“Come on man. We’ve been here for almost two years and you still haven’t made any friends. I see how you look at her- just say something! It is actual torture having to watch you dance around people like this.” Ellie groans dramatically, trying to kick some sense into the man who sits across from her. Joel just grunts, continuing to eat his stew as she looks blankly at him. “She’s nice enough.” She adds after a moment, trying to get him to say something.
After more silence, she speaks again with an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I’ll just go talk to her then, tell her that my old man has a big, fat crush on her. Maybe then you two can-” her smirk falters when Joel interrupts her.
“Don’t you dare go doin’ that,” he grumbles “Y’ gon’ make me look stupid-”
“So you talk to her then! Stop moping around all the time.” Ellie concludes, before standing up and saying goodbye, going to clear her tray and giving him a look before leaving the mess hall.
Joel watches her go before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. First, Tommy was on his ass about making some friends - “You’re scarin’ people, y’know. Givin’ everyone death stares when you walk around, being so.. withdrawn all the time. It’d do ya some good,” he’d told Joel one evening at the Tipsy Bison - and now Ellie was too. And, knowing Ellie, that kid wouldn’t be as patient, probably already concocting some sort of plan to force you and Joel together.
As he leans his head back and mulls over his options, he looks out the window. Of course you’re out there, playing with the kids of Jackson. You’re one of the most popular people in Jackson, always being friendly and knowing just about everyone.
..Except him, of course. You’ve had some small chats with him, but you never really see him. He sees you though, having been.. observing you for the past year, keeping his distance - being respectful, in his eyes, being a wuss, in Ellie’s - and he knows enough about you to know that he probably has no chance with you.
You’re funny, sweet, fucking stunning, and he’s seen multiple guys try to approach you at the bar. Younger, more attractive guys. Mainly, you help teach kids things like art and music at the Jackson school, and you also do patrols a few times a week. On some nights you also sing at the Tipsy Bison when there are events and dances. The band will play, often with you as the lead singer. He always makes sure he’s there when you are.
The first time he saw you was on one of his very first nights in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy had dragged him along, Ellie going too, with promise of a fun night.
He came mainly to keep an eye on Ellie and to get some alcohol in his system, not expecting anything ‘fun’ to happen. Boy, was he wrong.
It had been around half an hour of him nursing his whiskey in the corner of the room when you came onto stage, million-dollar smile on your face as you spoke into the microphone.
“Good evening, Jackson!” You began, already getting a loud cheer from the crowd of people there that night. “It’s great to be singin’ for you again, you know I missed ya! Now, tonight, we got a few songs lined up, but this first one is a special request from Mister Tommy Miller over there!” You had said, pointing over to Tommy who was sitting with Joel, the younger brother grinning widely at you.
The band started and you began to sing one of Joel’s favourite songs from before the outbreak - somehow, it sounded even better in your voice. Joel glared at Tommy when he realised what he had done, and Tommy just shrugged before looking back at you. He couldn’t stay mad at him though, because by the end of it he was entranced by the sweet melody of your voice and how gorgeous you looked singing your heart out under the lights.
You were beaming at the audience after finishing as they showered you with applause, though it took Joel a second to actually start clapping and stop staring at you.
He tried denying it, but, as cheesy as it sounds, it was love at first sight for him.
It scared him, definitely. It had barely been a year since he lost Tess, and although he wouldn’t go as far as saying they were in love, it was the closest thing he’d had to it in decades. To think he even liked you from just hearing you sing one song.. that fucking terrified him.
Which is why he kept his distance for so long. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he realised he actually liked you. He hadn’t had any sort of connection other than Ellie and Tommy in so long, and they were his family. You, though.. you were so different.
He sighed deeply before opening his eyes again, finishing his meal as he watched you smile and laugh in the snow through the window.
A week later, Tommy manages to convince Joel to come to the Tipsy Bison again, promising ‘no funny business’ to go on. Joel isn’t sure he’d really mind.
Time goes by quietly, a simple Monday afternoon not having much going on for them, but then you turn up. He sees you as soon as you walk through the doors, an unfamiliar tiredness in your eyes. It looks like you’ve been on a long patrol.
You look around before noticing Tommy and Joel, walking over with a small smile.
Joel stares daggers at Tommy. “You said no funny business,” he grits, a strange panic flooding his system. Did he brush his hair this morning? Do his clothes look tidy? Did he have anything in his teeth?
“Ain’t no funny business here, brother.” Tommy grins at him, not giving him a chance to reply as you get to their table.
“Hi Tommy!” You smile, hugging him before turning to Joel. “And Joel! It’s so great to see you!”
Joel blinks at you. Fuck, you’re talking to him. He needs to say something back.
“Yeah, you too.” He mumbles, clearing his throat awkwardly.
If you pick up on his discomfort, you don’t mention it, looking around before continuing.
“Are y’all stayin’?” You ask, now leaning forward a little with your palms on the table.
“As far as I’m concerned.” Tommy replies, to which you nod. “Y’ wouldn’t mind if I sit with ya, then?” You ask.
“Not at all, darlin’.” He says, and you slide into the booth with them, starting up a conversation about what you did today, mentioning that draining patrol you just got back from.
“I’m tellin’ ya - morning patrols are like hell on earth, Tommy. ‘S not fair to be makin’ us go out at 6 am.” You groan, to which he smiles. “Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix.” Tommy replies, which makes you perk up.
“You have coffee? Since when?” You gasp, wide-eyed at him.
“New trade opened, and since Joel here is such an addict, we got our hands on some.” He gestures to Joel, and you look over at him, a smile creeping onto your face.
“I see.. being Tommy’s brother has its perks then? Got you hoarding all the coffee for yourself?” You tease, to which Joel chuckles quietly at, sitting up a little taller.
“Not hoardin’. Nobody else has asked for any.” He tells you, looking into your eyes and trying not to get lost in them for too long.
“And if I wanted some?” You say, tilting your head sideways slightly as it rests on your palm.
“Y’ always welcome to come get some, sweetheart.” He isn’t sure what possessed him to use the pet name with you, but he’s very thankful for it as a soft crimson paints your cheeks and you bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. “Well, thank you.” You reply, before a man comes over to get you your drink. “Whiskey, neat please.” You tell him and he goes off to get it. Joel is pleasantly surprised by your choice. He never really thought about what you might order from the bar, but the fact that you shared the same drink of choice made you even more attractive in his eyes.
2 hours later, Tommy had gone off to handle an issue with the council and you and Joel had been talking and drinking and laughing. It’s around 3 now and he barely realises in time for his afternoon patrol, finishing off his whiskey before telling you, noticing the slight sadness that appears on your face at him having to go.
“Oh! Alright then. I’ll see you around. Have a good patrol, Joel.” You smile at him, and he offers you a small smile back.
“See ya ‘round.” He says before leaving and going back to the stables.
Later that evening, Ellie somehow figures out what went down earlier at the bar (Joel’s already planning on giving Tommy a talking to tomorrow) and makes fun of him endlessly for it, saying that he was apparently so shy when he was talking with you.
“I’d have never thought that someone could make the big, bad Joel all nervous and flustered, but she just continues to prove me wrong. She’s definitely special, huh.” Ellie grins, before bidding Joel goodnight and leaving him with his thoughts.
He hated to admit it, but Ellie was right in saying that. You were special.
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Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞
Next Chapter
173 notes · View notes
baldval · 1 month
Text
ART DECO PART 2!₊˚⊹♡
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characters: valentino x gn!reader
wc: 1.7k
warnings: cursing, canon!valentino (he doesn't mind vox's bad actions towards other people), insanely angsty.
series masterlist!
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You're half awake and disorientated. Valentino got up to find out who was at the door 10 minutes ago, and frankly, you're getting worried.
Against your better judgement, you throw on his shirt from the night before and make your way out of the bedroom.
You enter the living room to be met face to face with Vox.
Shit.
You briefly wonder if you can play it off, fabricate a story, tell him it's not what it looks like!
Apart from, it's exactly what it looks like.
Someone from Vox's assistance team saw you and Val enter his room together after the meeting. And now you're here, in his living room, wearing nothing but his shirt. And your shoes are by the front door. And there's a wine glass abandoned on the counter.
There's no getting out of this one.
Valentino wants to scream, yell at you to go back to his room. He wants to pick you up and throw you out of sight, praying Vox hasn't noticed all the tell tale signs. But it's too late. He has.
"Okay. Uh - what the fuck is going on?"
Vox asks the question while looking between the two of you like some sort of cartoon character doing a double take. It doesn't require a genius to figure it out, but he needs to hear one of you say it out loud.
"Listen, Vox-"
"Vox, don't get mad-"
You both speak at the same time, verbally tripping over each other. You've never actually discussed what you'd do or say if you got found out. You both just always naively assumed it wouldn't happen.
You sit down on the edge of the couch, and look at your boss earnestly.
You had earned his respect with all the years you'd been working for him, creating and animating shows for the Vees.
However, you knew it could all disappear.
It would be a lie to say you didn't see it coming, what was true is that you weren't ready for it.
"Vox, I'm not going to sit here and lie to you. It isn't fair. But you can't get mad when I tell you the truth."
"I'll be the judge of that," he mutters sassily.
"Will you come and sit with me, please? The standing is making me nervous. I feel like I'm on trial."
"You might be. I haven't decided yet."
You can't tell if he's joking. He's certainly not smiling.
Vox moves to sit down next you. Val follows, perching himself on the opposite end to give you space. Close enough if you need him, far enough that it won't upset your boss more.
"Start talking," he commands, still confused.
"It's... well I - we - me and Valentino, we're -"
"Together," Val finishes for you. Vox glares at him, and he decides he'll keep his mouth shut for a while.
"Yeah, we're together," you continue. "We have been for over a year. It isn't just sex, or anything. I'm like- in love with him."
It's weird to finally bear this truth after keeping it a secret for so long. It feels wrong, but also refreshing - like a bitter lemon on a hot day.
Vox is scarily silent.
"You're... kidding, right?" he asks, finally breaking through the quiet.
Your silence is enough answer for you as he looks at you incredulously.
"You're so fuckin' naive." He turns over to Valentino. "How can you sit here and act like this doesn't change anything?"
Val tries to speak, but he continues.
"You lied to me, first off. Both of you. For God knows how long-"
"Vox-"
"Let me fucking finish."
You shrink back into the couch, hoping it would swallow you.
"You both lied to me. You broke my trust... and uh, that fucking hurts, actually. And then there's the business side of things. They work for me, they work for the Vees. And, I don't know if you remember, but you are a Vee. That's a conflict of interest."
Val scoffs at him, but then realises he's deadly serious.
"... A conflict of interest?"
"It's against company policy. How am I going to trust you? How is anyone? Information might get leaked. What if I tell you something, and then you tell them?" He points over to you. "And then they tell whoever friends they have, and they post about it on social media, and all of a sudden nothing is private anymore. I. Can't. Trust. You."
Tears are welling up in your eyes quicker than you can control. You're trying to take deep breaths, begging yourself not to cry in front of Vox.
"You do get this is my life right? I get to choose whoever I date," Val whispers.
"Yeah? Well, it's my life. And they're MY worker. And I get to choose whatever I'll do to them."
A choked sob escapes you, and the floodgates open. Fresh, hot tears sprint down your cheeks, landing in your lap.
Vox doesn't care about your suffering, he just wants to punish Valentino through you.
Val can't stand to sit and watch any longer.
"Okay, Vox, that's enough. This isn't fair."
"What's not fair is that two of people I trust the most both lying to my face for a year. That's what isn't fucking fair."
With that, Vox stands up and strides towards the front door, slamming it behind him as he leaves. The minute he's gone, Valentino is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"It's okay, darling," he murmurs, stroking your hair. "He'll come around. We'll be okay. If we stick together, we'll be okay."
His reassurances are only making you cry harder, sobs escaping you uncontrollably. You eventually exhaust yourself, falling into a restless sleep in Val's arms on the couch.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You wake up in bed. You've temporarily forgotten the events of the morning, before it all comes crashing back down around you suddenly. Distantly, you can hear Valentino in the kitchen, talking on the phone. You look around the room, and know what you have to do.
You leave the bedroom with a bag in hand, throwing it onto the ground as you grab your shoes. Val clocks you, and hangs up the phone.
"Can I call you back? Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."
He runs over to where you're slipping your heels on, precariously balanced against the side of the couch.
"Honey, where are you going?" he questions, panic washing over him at your frantic state. "Wait, have you packed a bag?"
He's trying to catch your eyes, but you keep looking away, desperate to avoid his unrelenting gaze.
"I'm going home."
A pause.
"... This is your home."
You knew he'd say that. It hurts just the same.
"No, Valentino, this is your home. My apartment is across town."
"You haven't been there in months. All your stuff is here. Baby, talk to me. What's going on? Did Vox get in your head?"
"He has a point!" you shout, trying to pick up your bag. Val gets there first and grabs it, flinging it behind him, out of your reach.
"About what? He's just in shock, baby! He's confused and he feels betrayed. You don't owe him fuckin' anything. Not after everything that he has put you through."
"But I love my job, Val. I can't lose everything I've worked so hard to achieve!"
"You love that piece of shit job? Yesterday you literally had to get up at 6 am just to get here and get yelled at for an hour and a half. Look- I love Vox but he's not a good boss. Hell! I don't even care about that, I just can't stand to see him abuse you and treat you like you're close to nothing. You're better off without him and you know it. You're just too attatched to what you have."
Subconsciously, you know he's right. You're trying to convince yourself he isn't.
"You don't get it though."
"Except I do. Do you think I don't know about Vox's methods? I understand that it's what he needs to do to get the job done, but... I just can't stand him treating you like that."
"You heard what he said! He won't trust you anymore. No one will. Besides, I know it's shitty, but my job is important to me. I can't be forgotten. Known only as an old failed artist."
"Trust me, honey, you're the least likely to be named a failure."
"That's not the point! You're not listening to me. I come from the bottom, I've had to fight for respect every fucking day of my life. I'm finally where I deserve to be. I can't throw it all away for... for love!"
Valentino flinches like you've punched him in the gut. He takes a step back and leans against the kitchen island, trying to keep his balance.
"What happened to 'you and me against the world', huh?" he murmurs.
"I think I got too wrapped up in this - in us. I was stupid to think it could work. We both were."
"I wasn't," he replies defiantly. "I knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew it would be really fucking difficult and I loved you anyway."
"I'm not sorry for loving you," you whisper. "I'm sorry for a lot of things, but never for loving you."
"If you meant that, you wouldn't be giving up."
You turn your head around, unable to look at him any longer.
"This isn't giving up. This is... quitting while we're ahead. If we keep going, we'll just end up having a huge, horrible, public breakup," you stop, and take a deep breath. "I think we were always doomed to fail."
Valentino thinks about the diamond ring that sits in a box in the top drawer of his nightstand. Doomed to fail.
You finally look up at him, and all the air leaves your lungs. You've never seen him look so defeated, so vulnerable. You're the cause of this. And you hate yourself for it.
You pad across the kitchen and pick up your bag from where he threw it, before stopping in front of him.
"I don't regret you, Valentino. I never will."
With that, you stride out of the front door, closing it gently behind you. Val is left, cold and empty, in a room that no longer feels like home.
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pilfappreciator · 5 months
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ATTENTION TROLLS FANDOM!!
This is very important. Mostly to me but maybe you guys have been wondering this too idk but anyways:
How does troll reproduction work exactly?
Cuz I'm genuinely curious. I dont think anyone on the series production team has said anything and so far I've seen absolutely no one touch on this subject but as someone who's always had an interest in the habits of creatures (both fictional or otherwise), I kinda sorta maybe NEED to know this otherwise I'll never be able to sleep peacefully again
Full disclaimer that I'm specifically talking about the whole egg situation, I am NOT ASKING HOW THEY GET IT ON IF I WANTED THAT ANSWER I'D GO TO DEVIANT ART OR TWITTER OR WHATEVER LAWLESS PLATFORM GOD STEERS CLEAR OF. This discussion shall remain STRICTLY educational, thank you very much
But anywho. Let's dive in
So trolls come from eggs. This is basic knowledge. First instance of this phenomenon (as far as I know, I've only seen the movies) is from World Tour.
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Egg pops out of Guy Diamond's hair, egg hatches and BOOM, (literal) baby. Now I understand that this whole sequence was probably just a gag and a way for DreamWorks to implement another (merchandisable) addition to the cast HOWEVER this sequence also raises a few questions
First off, as far as I know Guy Diamond has no partner (again: I haven't watched any of the spinoff shows). Either that or maybe the other troll was a sorta one-night-stand/no-longer-in-his-life kinda situation? Which is great either way cuz its shown he obviously cares for his son and we at Tumblr appreciate a loving single father no matter the circumstances, but if my former theory is correct than that would imply that trolls are capable of reproducing asexually. Like onions.
Now if that hypothesis is, as they call it, "cap" then that would mean that some sorta hanky panky has to go down before an egg comes into question. And if that's the case, does this mean that male trolls are traditionally the ones who carry the eggs?
But that can't be right, can it? Afterall, World Tour gave us yet ANOTHER egg scene later on in the movie
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In Cooper's flashback, we clearly see Queen Essence being the one carrying the eggs meanwhile King Quincy is eggless. Now, as far as i see it, this could be explained either one of four ways:
1) Quincy was the one who actually produced the eggs and Essence is merely holding them for her husband (since her hair seems more fitting to be a makeshift nest compared to Quincy's)
2) Female trolls are the ones who produce the eggs. Guy Diamond is just a trans icon
3) Troll reproduction differs from genre to genre
4) There is a... *sighs* a/b/o type of dynamic among troll kind where certain trolls are capable of giving birth/siring children depending on a secondary gender
In regards to theory #3, this could also explain why Guy Diamond seems to reproduce and hatch an egg in such a short amount of time (like 5 seconds I'm pretty sure) as opposed to Queen Essence/King Quincy who's eggs presumably went a while longer before actually hatching.
Actually, speaking off eggs, are trolls the only species in their world that reproduce that way?
Because now that Band Together has officially been released, we now know for certain that it's possible for different species to crossbreed. Biggest example? Resident DILF Bruce and his giant muppet wife
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(Credit to @captainunderkrupp )
When I saw these two... I swear...
And these two already have a shit ton of kids okay so like... either Brandi was the one giving birth or trollsona Daveed Digs was over here pumpin out eggs, which I mean-
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DO YOU SEE HOW BIG THESE THINGS ARE COMPARED TO BRANCH AND POPPY?? Believe me I am PRAYING that Bruce gave himself some serious maternity/paternity leave because my guy is honestly a trooper
But yeah any thoughts? :))
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uselesslexbian · 12 days
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the tortured poets department sentence starters.
i was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me.
i love you, it's ruining my life.
my husband is cheating. i wanna kill him.
thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.
who's gonna hold you like me?
who's gonna know you, if not me?
sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.
everyone we know understands why it's meant to be. 'cause we're crazy.
who else is gonna know me?
i should've known it was a matter of time.
we could've played for keeps this time.
once i fix me, he's gonna miss me.
he told me i'm better off, but i'm not.
fuck it if i can't have him.
i might just die, it would make no difference.
fuck it if i can't have us.
'cause fuck it, i was in love.
i stopped trying to make him laugh.
how much sad did you think i had in me?
you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it.
just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode?
you swore you love me, but where were the clues?
i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.
i forget if this was ever fun.
no, i'm not coming to my sense.
i know he's crazy, but he's the one i want.
i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.
i'll tell you something about my good name - it's mine alone to disgrace.
you ain't gotta pray for me.
no, you can't come to the wedding.
it's gonna be alright, i did my time.
i will never lose my baby again.
ain't no way i'm gonna screw up now that i know what's at stake.
they said i was a cheat. i guess it must be true.
yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.
tell me i'm dispicable, say it's unforgivable.
am i allowed to cry?
i keep recalling things we never did.
someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts.
if it's make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?
they're gonna crucify me anyway.
what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?
you don't get to tell me about "sad."
if you wanted me dead, you should've just said.
who's afraid of little old me?
at all costs, keep your good name.
you don't get to tell me you feel bad.
so tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?
say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?
i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?
i'm fearsome, and i'm wretched, and i'm wrong.
you caged me, and then you called me crazy.
i am what i am 'cause you trained me.
i can fix him. no really, i can.
come close, i'll show you heaven.
trust me, i can handle me a dangerous man.
you said i'm the love of your life.
well, you took me to hell, too.
what we thought was for all time was momentary.
are they second-hand embarrassed that i can't get out of bed 'cause something counterfeit's dead?
you're the loss of my life.
i can handle my shit.
he said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short.
i can do it with a broken heart.
i'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague.
i cry a lot, but i am so productive. it's an art.
you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.
i'm sure i can pass this test.
they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did.
'cause i'm miserable! and nobody even knows!
was any of it true?
who the fuck was that guy?
they just ghosted you. now you know what it feels like.
i don't even want you back.
you didn't measure up in any measure of a man.
were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?
'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden.
i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside.
i'll forget you, but i'll never forgive.
i haven't come around in so long, but i'm making a comeback to where i belong.
this town is fake, but you're the real thing.
the crown is stained, but you're the real queen.
you're the new god we're worshipping.
it's hell on earth to be heavenly.
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bogleech · 11 months
Note
Ok but I have seen you talk about this so many times, even referencing it in your old cartoons, so I gotta ask - when and how did you fall in love with neopets, like that?
Wait, is it that obscure now? I didn't know a single person from its inception to roughly 2010 who didn't have a neopets account. It was the single biggest gaming-esque name on the internet for years. Celebrities casually mentioned playing it, it got mainstream marketing tie-ins, it had plush toys people waited in line to buy up and a TCG made by the same company as Magic the Gathering. It's not that I especially "fell in love with neopets" like it's a niche thing but that there was a time it was almost outselling Pokemon, so it's just another huge cultural phenomenon that was a big part of everyone's lives during my teens to twenties, and hits my special interest in creature design since it has THOUSANDS (beyond the pets alone) ranging in quality from extremely creative to just plain heinous. I personally only got invested in it when they introduced the mutant pets, though, because it started out having almost like a "rule" against making any pets that were "ugly." They'd joke about it as a prank for instance, and originally only featured the mutants as part of a storyline they never intended players to actually adopt. They even had a fake alternate version of the site with fake "adoptions coming soon" and somehow didn't anticipate the userbase genuinely wanting the slime creatures.
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The Chia and Aisha were my favorites but mainly the chia because that kind of "scuzzy" creature was already my own design aesthetic, polar opposite of the site's established style and reminded me of if Jeff Goldblum got fused with a tardigrade instead of a fly:
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Is that just me? I feel like the tardigrade similarity jumps right out but I think it was an accident and they were possibly actually thinking of the rotting giant from Nausicaa:
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The fact that they intended its design to be unlovably ugly and were surprised anyone wanted it only made it more sympathetic. Eventually they made mutants available and I got fully invested into playing, at the time having to spend hours a day on their little flash games until I could afford a mutant after months of labor. But then a couple of years later they just abruptly decided they really didn't feel like having its design around anymore and "updated" it, which back then was automatic for all pets owned by all players with no going back:
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It had unfortunately been fairly common that they'd just completely, totally redo a pet like this with no warning and no user poll to make sure it's what anyone wanted. You just had to pray they never did it to your favorites.
All the other mutants in that earlier image would also get completely changed or never released at all. They still kept some of the other "gross" mutants and would make even grosser, so that wasn't even part of the reasoning. Just the random whims of mad gods I guess. I think what killed the game for a lot of people was actually when they did this to basically everyone at once, standardizing almost all the pet artwork so they could wear clothes in their new dressup system. It wasn't as drastic as replacing a sludge guy with some kind of hairy leaf guy but it did eliminate hundreds of technically unique designs from the site, and I found someone else's examples they put together so I thankfully don't have to do it myself:
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If anyone's not familiar enough with neopets or didn't figure that out from the last paragraph, the ones on the right are just recolors of the same exact art as all members of their species with added accessories (now wearable items) Players used to work hard to get pets they wanted based on their unique poses and personality, but you could only keep the original art for a small number of these. The customization feature kind of attracted a different new fandom, from what people say, but it never approached a fraction the site's peak, which is probably how the brand wound up getting sold to some NFT bros who aren't even involved in the site itself and supposedly never even spoken to its remaining staff outside some business emails? This is unrelated to the brief period it was bought by scientologists and the siterunners had to fight back against their propaganda leaking into it. I really didn't expect to turn this response into a mini article, I should really just make a thing on bogleech.com about it sometime. Some of my tumblr mutuals to this day are people I met through the neopets fandom and probably have equally lengthy memories/complaints.
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bowandbrush · 2 months
Note
I?? YOU'RE CHRISTIAN TOO?????
AhHHHHhhh brOOoooo it's so hard to find genuine Christians anymore 😭😭 especially online. I've been too scared to say that I am one cause likeeee everyone always thinks that It's cringe or they don't agree with the same things as me so they might wanna argueee
No, but I got so excited when I found out that one of my favorite artists (Chiscribbs) was Christian too.
You can answer this ask privately if you want. I'm still not sure if I want people on my blog to know I'm Christian. It's been really bothering me though cause I'm not really supposed to be hiding the fact that I am just to fit in, but I already made mutuals with a lot of people who share opposing beliefs and I really don't want to stirr up conflict with anyone cause then it's not fun anymore. I feel like I should come clean about it, but at the same time, I don't want people to get mad at me or to think that I think I'm better than them or smth. I srsly regret making mutuals with those people now though. I'm trying to be more cautious with who I become mutuals with-
Anyways, sorry for likee dumping all this in your ask box. I just have a lot of respect for people who are openly Christian cause it just seems so scary to me lol
YOOOO! This is literally so cool finding so many awesome rise artists who are Christian too! And you don’t have to share on your blog if you’re Christian, but don’t be afraid to share yourself and Christ to others!
God says that yes, all Christians will receive hate one way or another, that’s just the sad truth. Like, I haven’t seen a single Christian artist out there pushing their values onto others who think differently; it’s usually the other way around, and I would know. But we can do our Best and share our art and Love to others, and ignore haters. Pray for them, actually. They don’t know it, bless them and love them as much as you can!! >:)
BLESSINGS!!! 💕💗
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seneon · 1 month
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all mine ──── reo mikage x gn! reader.
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about. two souls who are oblivious to each other's feelings. | ib all mine, plaza. fluffy but not rly fluff..? wc of 690+
notes. whenever i listen to that song, it reminds me of reo idk why. AND Y'ALL THOUGHT I FORGOT ABOUT BLUE LOCK HUH SHAME ON U
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popular mikage reo is loved amongst students, perhaps even hated. who knows. but there were only two sides, love and hate. all the girls in school wanted mikage reo and all the boys wanted to be like mikage reo. to put simply, he is the dream of everyone.
he gets everything he wants. money, success, fame, women, nagi seishirou. whatever that he desires, he gets.
so what happens when he doesn't get what he wants?
more like, what would happen if a student that wants him, ends up not wanting him anymore…?
reo mikage is oblivious to the times where you tried so hard to talk to him or be in his presence. to even get his attention through a crowd of dedicated fangirls and haterboys is just so hard. so not even one week of attempting to express your feelings, you have completely cut them off like cutting a mere thread.
sometime after you left, reo mikage started to notice you. how ironic is that? the popular mikage reo finally notices you, quite a popular student too. you were popular for your performing arts talent, often seen performing for school events or even outside of school.
the mikage attempted a chase and attract challenge for quite some time. but there was not even once where you would look his way and smile or blush or anything. now he felt like his desires weren't going to be fulfilled. he should've paid you more mind when you used to like him.
“yo mikage! you ever get the news on why l/n doesn't fawn over you like everyone else?”
he does. in fact, he wonders about it all the damn time. it was shocking that there are actually people who don't pay any mind to the mikage.
“they said l/n used to like you but gave up because you're wayyy too popular, man. they don't want you anymore.”
oh. talented y/n used to like reo mikage. that's a little disappointing. maybe a bit more disappointing. okay reo is lying to himself. he is extremely disappointed. he is disappointed at himself for how he never paid you any attention when you used to like him. if only he wasn't so oblivious then only would he make things work.
he could have you all for himself this entire time. he could have told people that talented y/n is all his. he would say “y/n is all mine” proudly.
is there a second chance for him in your heart? he is eager to know. so reo mikage is going to try to get your attention now. will he succeed or not? oh reo mikage prays. if not, he will do even the most ridiculous of stunts to get you to look at him just once. at least once.
truth is, he didn't even have to try. he was always in your heart. you'll only look his way whenever he isn't looking so you'd admire him from afar. how pathetic talented y/n is, to think that you have no chance with ace student reo mikage.
will this complex love story ever be solved?
yeah.
“will you ever look my way, y/n?! i've been trying so hard to talk to you. why won't you notice my feelings for you?!” reo mikage loses his patience and snaps at you.
in class, right where you sat completing your music sheet. and the mikage who snapped all of a sudden in the middle of a free period where the entire class paused at the outburst.
“i like you y/n, please just acknowledge my existence!”
oh dear. someone's angry.
“not like i don't acknowledge your existence. you're very much known to me. but the feelings part is not what i expected,” you said, looking at your music sheet and at reo. “i like you too.”
and that was all it took for two oblivious souls to acknowledge their feelings for each other. it isn't that hard to just... go up and talk. another day, and reo mikage gets to finally call the school's most talented performer “all mine.”
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© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.
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Personal Dionysian Ritual
This is the ritual form I use for my Sunday worship (or, in this case, first-day-of-Anthesteria worship). I think this may hit closer to Catholic or Christian formats than historic Greek pagan ritual formats, at least if the book Hellenic Polytheism - Household Worship is to be believed. But this format is just a bit easier on me in terms of supplies, time, and ability to keep it semi-covert. I don't have the ability to light fires in my current space, but when I do, I usually include a prayer to Hestia at the beginning and end.
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Dionysian Ritual (for Sundays) (Usually) (It's not set in stone)
Approach the altar or worship space. With you, there must be:
A bowl or other vessel filled with water (can be small).
Optionally, you may have:
Wine
Barley
Sea salt
Divination tools (I prefer tarot, or Sappho/Homeromanteions when I can get my hands on it).
A candle or other source of heat/light/incense (smells, basically)
Place the bowl of water either in front of your statue of Dionysos, or, if no statue is available, in a central spot in your space of worship. The wine and extra supplies may be placed anywhere else. Begin:
Orphic Hymn to Dionysos (Apostolos N. Athanassakis translation) I call upon loud-roaring and reveling Dionysos, primeval, two-natured, Thrice-born, Bacchic Lord, savage, ineffable, two-horned and two-shaped. Ivy-covered, bull-faced, warlike, howling, pure, You take raw flesh, You have triennial feasts, wrapped in foliage, decked in grape clusters. Resourceful Eubouleus, immortal God sired by Zeus when He mated with Persephone in unspeakable union, Harken to my voice, O blessed one, and with your fair-girdled nurses, Breathe on me in spirit of perfect kindness.
After the Orphic hymn, consecrate the bowl of water to make khernips. You may add salt if desired.
Dionysian Khernips Prayer (In between each verse of the Khernips Prayer, I move from just having the bowl on the altar, to holding the sides of the bowl, to holding the bowl up for the last verse.)
After the Khernips Prayer, I pray to Hagios as I actually ritually wash myself with the newly made khernips.
Hagios (For every verse of Hagios, I start with washing my face, then move to washing my hands, and finally sprinkle khernips on my feet, especially if I'm planning on dancing. This isn't actual washing, but more like lightly splashing water on the different parts of me that I wash.)
After Hagios, if there is wine, then I consecrate that, which I'll link my prayer for below. If there isn't, then I libate clean water (will be writing a prayer for that at some point soon), and move on to the next part of the ritual.
Wine Consecration to Dionysos (From the part where I say "This is the gift that..." through to "on the slopes of Mount Kithairon", I raise the wine towards my statue Dionysos as though toasting Him, which is inspired by art showing Maenads serving Dionysos wine.)
After the wine consecration, I pour out a libation of wine to Dionysos while praying my prayer to Dionysos Theoinos:
Theoinos
After the prayer to Theoinos, whatever happens next is up to you. If I'm doing any divination, I'll say a prayer to Dionysos Mantis before going ahead with it. Otherwise, I may dance, or talk about my day, or simply do prayer after prayer after prayer until I've kind of exhausted my talking point. Since most of my rituals are done at night, however, the consistent part is frequently the end, which is my second prayer to Dionysos Nyktelios:
Nyktelios II
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And there you have it! I definitely finished this a bit later than I was planning, but that's okay - I got it out, and that's all that matters! I hope everyone has a good night and a beautiful Anthesteria, and that this was helpful to some degree :)
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