#well a little less than two decades lol

[extra-v1rgin]

This fic is,,, weird. But I enjoyed writing it. I still feel slightly embarrassed posting it however lol

Root idea inspired by phantasmiafxndom

Cw for mentions of child abuse *cough cough* Shinjuro

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Demons, in their current form, were not just disgusting to Kyojuro but also pathetic in a way that made his heart burn with anger. Decades ago it had been perfectly fine to kill them. The creatures were a scar upon humanity and extermination was agreed upon by nearly everyone.

Now people treated them like a nuisance at worst, some even tended to coddle them. Protests grew daily, demanding the demons be treated more humanely. Humanely? For creatures that used to eat humans, still did in some cases. It was a fate kinder than they deserved.

Despite Kyojuro’s distaste most people didn’t share his feelings on the matter. Perhaps the most upsetting was the fact that Senjuro had complete adoration for demons. He tried his best to tolerate his brothers ideas, but couldn’t often hide his disturbance.

It only got worse when a few of Senjuro’s schoolmates got demons of their own. They had become a new fad, and the ultimate status symbol. Why have a dog or cat when instead you could find a demon who you could dress up with hair to brush.

Even his own brother cooed over the creatures. One or two of his classmates (alongside a few of Kyojuro’s own students) sported such popular pets and enjoyed showing them off. During lunch students would gather around pictures to oo and ah over whatever unique features the particular example had.

And while Rengoku worked a humble job as a teacher, their father still had plenty of money to spare even after retirement, something his younger brother was well aware of. It was no surprise when Senjuro too started to beg for a pet. The man was less secretive of his distaste inside his own home. He wasn’t harsh or cruel with the boy, simply firm. Senjuro had asked for pets before. This obsession would fade much like rest.

—-

Six months later Kyojuro gave in. Senjuro had earned some sort of reward. The elder brother didn’t like to leave the home often, not for elongated periods of time. Shinjuro mostly kept to himself now but it wasn’t impossible for their father to lash out. These incidents were few and far between. The only connection between them was that they occurred when Kyojuro wasn’t in the home.

But he had a job to do. Volunteering for an overnight field trip had perhaps been a mistake on his own part. In the past Senjuro had been able to find appropriate accommodations for the night or two his brother was gone. This time it was simply a combination of all the wrong things coming together.

He shouldn’t have believed his younger brother’s insistences that everything would be ok. Uzui or Sanemi would loathe watching the children but he could’ve forced one of the other men to take his place. That didn’t change the fact that he was the one who left on the trip. Everything on his end went rather smoothly. The children were rowdy, but didn’t cause any major problems. After constantly checking in and several reassurances from Senjuro he pushed his worries to the back of his mind.

They rushed forward again when Kyojuro arrived home. Even upon his return his brother greeted him with a smile and warm hug. It would’ve been a nice welcome under most circumstances. Senjuro wore a high collar, creeping above his neck. It wasn’t entirely inappropriate for the weather but wasn’t part of his typical ensemble.

Rengoku went to pull at the turtleneck. Though the boy nervously tried to avoid the attempts it wasn’t as if he could run away.

“It’s fine aniue,” he mumbled. Kyojuro saw a purple spot forming. It wasn’t too large, not the largest Senjuro or himself had ever recieved, but still there nonetheless. Softly he brushed the area with his thumb. His younger brother let out a little puff of air despite his attempts to hold in any reaction.

Finally allowed to pull away he backs up. Already his eyes are clouding with tears. Kyojuro waits for a moment, gently reaching his hand out so it barely hovers above the boy’s shoulder. When Senjuro leans into the touch he’s quickly smothered in an overbearing hug. He doesn’t quite sob, but tears soak into the elder brother’s shirt.

Even though Senjuro is mature (which sometimes makes Rengoku guilty in a way, because he shouldn’t have to be so mature) he’s still fourteen. Beyond that he’ll always be the younger of the two. Kyojuro had gotten used to sharing a bed and taking care of a sick brother and buying birthday gifts the moment their mother died, when Senjuro had barely started school. It feels natural to pick him up and settle on one of the softer couches. He’s small enough to still be able to curl up in Rengoku’s lap.

The two are happy to sit there for awhile. Senjuro was never much of a talker so the man doesn’t push him for now. Tears roll down his cheeks, which Rengoku swears still carry a bit of baby fat.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left. I’ll be more careful next time. You didn’t-“

“It’s not your fault aniue. F-father just- he got mad because I dropped a plate and it’s fine. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” More water wells up in the corner of his eyes. After sucking in a shuddering breath he tries again. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

“Ok.” Kyojuro’s eyes soften. “You did a good job though.” He shouldn’t have had to, but Senjuro’s been forced to grow quickly. “We’ll do something for you though. Whaddya want? We can get dessert or go to that fancy ramen place or whatever else.”

Senjuro sniffles again. “You’ll be mad at me.”

“Of course I won’t, you can choose anything.”

“Ok.”

—-

A demon was not was Kyojuro had in mind. He had lightly protested at first but after Senjuro relented with a horribly sad look the man ended up being the one to insist. He bit back the opposing words on his tongue and tried to be supportive.

It was obvious the boy had been thinking about this for quite some time. He already had a list of several local rescues and even pulled an older futon into one of the many spare rooms they had.

Rengoku had trouble keeping a solid smile on his face, but even when it slipped his brother didn’t notice.

So they (well mostly Senjuro, who finally insists on going one day after school) arrive at a vaguely creepy facility, white walls with rows of cages on either side. The cashier is a young woman who drags her voice out too much, weirdly high in an attempt to appear more friendly. Her lax appearance was strange with the rest of the sterile environment.

Senjuro was free to pick one of his own out. Kyojuro found all of them equally repulsive, and had no preference for which one ended up in their home. The only thing he wanted was for his brother to change his mind and let them leave empty handed. He felt bad for thinking such bitter thoughts considering what had propelled their visit. Everytime he tried to improve his attitude Rengoku would catch sight of meat sitting in feeding bowls or little signs declaring the temperament of a specific pet.

Senjuro was firm in his choices however and they ended up with something vaguely human, though that wasn’t very remarkable. It (They, Senjuro kept on insisting, like it was an actual being) had greyish skin and sunken eyes. With a few random spikes and other inhuman qualities it was pretty typical in terms of demons. It wasn’t the most repulsive one there, plenty had more appalling traits like multiple eyes or huge fists perfect for clawing people.

The chatty saleswoman cooed as she opened up the cage and beckoned you forward. “Good choice! This one’s quiet, but the most well-behaved cutie you’ve ever seen.” As you drag yourself out of the cage and rise to your full height Rengoku grimaces. You don’t look particularly threatening, smaller than him with blank eyes and greasy hair. ‘Cute’ is not the word that comes to mind.

Hesitantly taking the new leash clipped to your collar Senjuro tugs you forward. You move along with the motions, following quick enough that the lead never draws taut. One of your feet drags slightly each time you take a step.

“Hi.” The boy is so quiet as he whispers it. He seems a little shy, reverent maybe? Holding eye contact for only a moment or two he looks away and back towards his brother. “I want this one aniue.” The shyness holds as he

at Kyojuro.

The man bites his tongue for a minute and tries to think of an appropriate response. “And you’re sure?” He tries to keep the judgement out of his voice.

It’s detected anyways. Senjuro’s brow furrows slightly. His brother is never truly angry, but annoyed seems like a just reaction. “Yes! I promise.” The words rush out quickly in a way that leaves no room for argument.

“Awesome! And just so you know each adoption comes with some basic care items, a bit of meat, feeding bowls, um I think there’s a booklet included.” The saleswoman bounces around the counter and roots in the drawers underneath. “Is this your first one? Honestly I thought about adopting in the past but after spending all my time here I’ve gotten my fill of demons.”

Senjuro nods along politely to each sentence. Rengoku merely stares out the window and waits until she asks for a card. When she finally finishes her spiel he slaps the card down. Demons can be low-maintenance (in actuality that means negligent owners who can’t quite get in trouble with how resilient demons are) but when properly taken care of they can be rather expensive. The cost of meat alone, synthetic human or the animal kind, can scare many away. Money here isn’t the problem.

Kyojuro has to carry all the accessories back to the car. His brother opted to chose about a dozen different types of collars and bowls and whatever else in his excitement. Trailing behind slightly he still holds your leash in hand. Every few steps he’ll nervously look back as if to make sure you’re still following. You don’t react to any of these glances, don’t react to anything at all other than stopping when he does and moving forward when prompted.

Once you’re brought to the car Kyojuro directs you towards the back, where several plastic covers have been put over the seats. Senjuro has to lean over to buckle you, jolting each time his skin brushes against yours. Pulling away he hovers for a moment before his brother directs him towards the front seat.

—-

Their house is nice. You’re led to a mostly bare room which is dubbed as yours. The older Rengoku dumps the toys in the corner and is quick to leave afterwards. You can still smell him sharply though, lingering just beyond the doorway.

The younger one parades you around the room to show off the space. Currently there is a futon in the corner with a shelf pressed against the opposite wall. Senjuro promises to get you more to furnish the space but it makes no difference to you.

“I’ll see if there’s a salon or something like that. They can bathe you and help with your nails.”

They’re claws, pointed and sharp but also splintering from lack of care. With no other way to respond you give a dull nod.

“I didn’t really think about clothes, but I do have an oversized shirt for you. It’s more like a dress really.” While explaining he plucks the piece from the bottom of your new belongings. “Aniue might have some old clothes that fit you, just until I go shopping.”

At that your mouth drops into a sharper frown. His brother smells like anger and hatred and something too harsh for your nose. It’s not as if you’re not used to being disliked. Demons generally don’t get along with one another and being put in a shelter usually meant whatever previous owner you had wasn’t great. His distaste though was sharp on your tongue as the smell wafted through the air. It wasn’t like casual neglect or dehumanization— there wasn’t even subtle joy taken in the sight of your current state, he didn’t want you there at all.

Put off by the thought of the man you turn away and crawl underneath your futon. It’s warm against your chilled skin. Peeking your head out from the thick sheets you watch as he spreads the rest of the accessories around the space. The whole time he talks softly, not to you specifically, but fills the space with sound. He’s quiet and doesn’t say things pointlessly which keeps your annoyance from rising.

By the time he finishes you’re already half asleep. You’ve spent the last few months sitting in a cage most of the day, even just moving from one home to another has worn you out. Nerves alone keep your eyes open, at least while he’s in the room. The moment he leaves however your willpower thins.

—-

Days pass slowly. Senjuro feed’s you before he heads to school, at which point you’re mostly left alone. Kyojuro occasionally passes the room, but never pauses. A few times when it’s absolutely silent you’ll poke your head out of your room. You don’t ever end up passing the threshold of it though. Nobody’s invited you outside of the space and you don’t fancy getting punished for such a small journey.

Mostly you nap or pace around your room. There’s not much in terms of entertainment but it’s not a horrible existence. Senjuro is only gone for a few hours. When he gets home the boy will do homework in your room. It becomes so much of a habit that an extra desk gets shoved into the space. While he works you rest at his feet or watch him through your blankets.

Your routine rarely shifts, which is nice in its own way. Change is more often bad than good, but the humans seem to have their own ideas about what you need.

This afternoon when Senjuro enters his brother follows. When you sense Rengoku approaching however you try to scramble backwards. Senjuro’s arms stick out in front of him as he tries to calm you. You’re not very happy but you soften slightly anyways.

Now that you’re paying attention his words make real sense. “I want you and aniue to get along. He’s not mean so you can’t be either.” His brother stands in the doorway, looking threatening still.

“Please aniue, you have to be nice.” Senjuro looks up at the man. “Can’t you just pet them once? I don’t like it when you ignore each other.”

Rengoku approaches you carefully. In an attempt to please his brother the man wasn’t quite as brash as usual. But his feelings were still clear on his face, and the smell of his anger flows through the air. You’re tempted to back up even more, hiding flat beneath the chair.

In turn his expression only grows more displeased.

After a few minutes of him standing angrily in the middle of the room Senjuro observes the threatening aura easily and was quick to intervene. “Aniue! You have to be more gentle.” He runs to your side. Though the boy wasn’t particularly strong you allowed him to pull you into his lap. His soft hands run over your hair in soothing motions. “See, you have to be nice if you want them to trust you.” While he continued to cradle you an eye opened to peek at the elder brother. He looked even more upset than before, which brought a sly smile to your face.

With your sharp nose you could smell how hard Kyojuro had bit his tongue. The faintest smell of blood drifted in the air while saliva pooled in your mouth. Turning your smug face away you attempted to burrow further into the carpet and soft fabric. You roll around in the gentle feeling of his hands and the sweet smell of his clothes. He must’ve been cooking earlier, something sweet like sugar or baking mix is smeared over the front of his clothes.

Though you’ve hidden your face Kyojuro’s presence is still clear. When he settles beside you all your muscles pull tight. His hands graze over you twice while you lie as still as possible.

“Alright, is that good?” The man is already standing up.

Senjuro doesn’t seem satisfied at all, with your performance alongside his brother’s, but nods anyways. It seems the mood has gone sour, the way he leaves soon after. He tries not to make it feel like a punishment but a bit of guilt gnaws at your bones.

—-

The next day Senjuro is back to his usual routine although the air still feels a bit too quiet. Worry keeps you alert to his movements. A few times he opens his mouth without speaking. On the third or fourth try he finally manages to get a few words out.

“I’m having aniue take you to get all washed up and everything tomorrow. You have to be good otherwise he won’t want to do this for me again.” His sternness is in full force, and surprisingly authentic. Blinking up at him you give a curt nod, waiting for the petting to resume.

It does soon enough and you’re happy to settle back down.

—-

The spa- salon or whatever they call themselves is surprisingly pleasant. You’re shy at first. There’s lots of people there, other demons too. Some are carefully restrained, muzzles and harnesses and even one fashioned in a straight jacket.

You wish Senjuro had taken you. The boy would’ve coaxed you inside gently and explained everything along the way. Rengoku drags you towards the receptionist and clips your collar to one of the tethers there. As soon as you’re checked in and given a pickup time he leaves you there. You’re not shaking— that would be cowardly —but there’s a nerve running through your body.

The woman who takes you is nice. She has pretty pink hair with a friendly face, but ultimately is unfamiliar in a way that makes you resistant. When you don’t move with her she trues to guide you with a hand. It’s so warm again your skin. Senjuro’s touches are always light and the woman isn’t rough but it’s rougher than he is.

The hiss isn’t purposeful, not even threatening. It works to describe your discomfort. She tries soothing voices to guide you towards one of the chairs, but you stay rooted to the spot.

“Five steps ok? Why don’t you move with me and we can sit down.” When she nudges your legs you finally take one step. The woman guides you slowly until you settle down on one of the recliners. You’re still stiff, but in a position where they can start to take care of you.

Lots of different people do lots of different things. A man trims your talons and applies a thick shiny coat over them. He offers color but you staunchly shake your head.

Another person trims your hair. She carefully moves it away from your face and takes off a minimal amount. You can’t really see much of a difference, too distracted by all the little ends that have scattered across your face. The woman dusts them off with a fluffy brush that makes you sneeze. Everyone nearby coos after and you feel like more of a lapdog than a demon.

Someone else leads you over to a private bathroom, where you’re promptly scrubbed down. They use lots of bubbles and scented oils that edge on being too much for your senses. The after-effect is nice though, a calm lavender scent that’s much more pleasant than dirt and raw meat (even if the latter was tastier). You’re thrown into an oversized sweatshirt with matching pants, soft fleece lining the inside.

It all goes rather quickly. There’s dozens of new scents and people that cloud your brain. It’s hard to absorb the reality of everything until you’re allowed to actually rest. A side room lets you find a quiet place to curl up and rest.

Even though you’ve done just the barest amount of stumbling around there’s a weight to your bones that drags you down. You can’t remember if you were always like this or if it’s a side effect of being caged for so long. Either way you feel like a poor imitation of what a demon should be. A poodle compared to a wolf.

Part of you doesn’t really care. It’s not like you’ll ever be expected to kill or even hunt. This is the result from years of domestication.

You leave all the wondering for another day. Your mind is just a tired as your body and it’s no surprise when your eyes slip closed.

—-

Kyojuro drags you back into the car after a harsh awakening. You’re still half asleep but stumble out once he has a hand on your leash.

Slumping over in the back seat you drift back in and out of sleep. Everytime the man hits the breaks you jerk forward and wake back up.

But by the time you get home you’ve been knocked out fully. Your head dips downwards only to lose ok up an indeterminate amount of time later.

For a few minutes you wait awkwardly in the car. It’s hard to tell how much time has passed, but in reality it probably hasn’t been too long. Senjuro would’ve come out to wake you if he was home.

You decide nobody else would be inclined to fetch you. Crawling out of the backseat you dart towards the door leading inside.

Unsure of where exactly your room is you’re forced to rely on scent. You’ve never been outside of your room in length, and can’t recall the layout of most of the home.

Currently your strategy is to point your head in one direction and sniff. It seems to be doing a relatively good job of leading you in the right direction, or at least the smell isn’t getting any weaker.

Though much of the house is rather boring, plain walls with nice furniture that doesn’t really tell you anything, you do take note of whatever is a little interesting. There’s fresh flowers in one of the vases along the hallway. They must’ve been cut just a day or two ago. As you pass the kitchen you notice four seats at the dinner table, with room for more if needed. You haven’t heard any guests in the weeks you’ve been here, so it’s an odd sight.

Kyojuro seems to be absent at the moment, making your movements much more relaxed. You don’t drag your feet or wander aimlessly but you’re happy to poke your head in certain places were it doesn’t belong.

One room in particular captures your attention. Most of the home smells the same, with the brother’s scents flowing and ebbing depending on the space. In a darker hallway however there’s the sharp scent of alcohol. Underneath it you can sense another human within, a damp smell like overripe fruit. At first it makes you pause (the only sound is heavy breathing inside the room) and then scurry away from it.

You find your room soon after, happy to dive into your sheets. Pulling off the oversized clothes you’re happier to take in more familiar fragrances.

—-

When Senjuro gets home he showers you with compliments. Fingers sweep through your soft locks.

However he seems determined at ruining your peace. “Wasn’t Aniue great for taking you?” He tries to hide his pointed tone.

You give a non-committal shrug.

The boy huffs but doesn’t leave you like he did last time.

“They were booked too far ahead on Saturdays but next time I’ll plan for that so we can go together.”

Letting out a pleased trill you flop onto the ground.

The boy moves backwards. “Let’s get some food yea?” He waits for you to follow.

Never having been invited out of your room (Kyojuro taking you out earlier was less of an invite and more of a demand) you move hesitantly. Within the home there’s no leash attached to your collar. It’s nice most of the time but you could use it as proper direction for where he wants you to go. Every few steps you end up stopping because you’re so hesitant. You’re just grateful that Senjuro doesn’t mind how slow you make the journey.

The open air of the kitchen makes you nervous. There’s so many places to look that it makes you dizzy.

Senjuro opens the refrigerator. At the bottom there’s stacks of meat, all different kinds. Technically it makes sense. It’s not as if someone is purchasing your food everyday. The steaks and patties you get eat night have to appear from somewhere.

With it all in front of you however saliva fills your mouth.

“You can pick out your dinner this time. I thought that could be fun!” He pulls your arm towards the icy cooler.

Moving slowly you just point to the top of the pile. You’d eat the whole thing if you could, but given the choice to pick one there’s not much difference to you.

Senjuro looks a bit disappointed so you instead take more action. Moving the packages around pointlessly you choose another from somewhere in the middle. The letters outlining it explain nothing to you, but there’s juice and blood flowing around the free spaces. Mostly you’re just excited to run back to your room and sink your teeth into the fat and sinew. It leaves saliva pooling in your mouth.

With slightly shaky hands you hand it over to Senjuro. Even though you know it’ll end up back in your hold your instincts scream at you to keep it. The tips of your fingernails burn as you try to keep your claws in control.

With dilated eyes focused on the meat you don’t notice the smell of alcohol wafting into the room. The younger boy does, and he tries to take your hand and guide you away. As you’re unworried you drag your feet along the way. Ignoring his urgings you’re caught off guard when a hand hooks into the back of your shirt.

Turning around you think it’s Kyojuro who’s grabbed you. They look almost identical but a bit of extra height and some light stubble indicate him as someone else. You may be dumb but you’re not stupid and it’s easy to guess that this is the pairs father. You hadn’t considered the full image of their family, only caring to note those you interacted with.

His anger is different than Kyojuro’s. Is less pointed, engulfing the whole room rather than poking your skin alone. It smells rotten.

“Who brought this damned thing into my house?” Shinjuro’s question doesn’t require an answer, it’s already obvious. You try to turn tail and race into your room once he releases you, but you’ve been turned around and there’s no clear line to the exit. Senjuro reaches out to his father, trying to calm him.

“Aniue said it was ok so I just thought-“

“Kyojuro’s not your father is he?”

“N-no but-“

“Stop letting him act like he runs the fucking household. If he wants to be in charge he can get his own place.” Along with his cruel words his hands twist into fists. As an arm raises Senjuro shakes in anticipation.

You dart forward, nearly knocking the boy over. A strong fist collides with your forehead. You’ve been hit before, but you can’t remember a time a human had been able to hurt you this much.

Knocked off balance you’re happy enough to crouch to the ground. As the room comes back into focus another hand comes towards you. Lifted up harshly you’re face to face with the man. You’re hissing and spitting as you resist Shinjuro’s grip. Lying down and drinking had brought down the man’s physique, but shadows of muscle still remained. He clutches your hair in one hand. The minute you raise your claws he captures your wrists in the other. You try to gnash your teeth and aim yourself at his skin, but you can’t get near him. The best you could do now was lash out with your legs.

Twisting like a serpent you tried to loosen his grip. Senjuro was crying as he pulled on your clothing, trying his best to free you in his own way.

You’re only dropped when a door at the front of the house softly opens and shuts. The noise is barely perceptible to human ears, but Shinjuro still senses it. The moment he pushes you to the ground the man is quick to disappear back into his room.

Senjuro dashes to your side. At the moment you curl into yourself. The bruises around your wrists are already fading but your muscles are stiff when you move.

The boy clutches onto your body like you might be dying. Currently you’re not inclined to brush away his tears though you wish they’d stop.

“What happened here?” For once Kyojuro’s voice isn’t obnoxiously chipper or filled with disgust. There’s a genuine tone that you’ve never heard before. You still don’t bother to glance his way, trying to find comfort on the hard ground.

“F-father he um, he was being mean again and when he tried to grab me they got into a fight.” His voice is still thick with emotion as he crouches over you.

“Oh.” Kyojuro’s surprised. It’s silent for a quick second. “Well are you ok?”

“Aniue! I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” His arms grab your torso and try to lift you. With shaky arms you attempt to help him. There’s no reason you should be in such a weak state, perhaps after being pampered for a bit you’ve lost touch with what it’s like to be beast.

When the eldest is quick to scoop you up you’re at least well enough to let a quiet growl leap out from the back of your throat. You don’t move however. It’d be awful to get dumped on floor again and Kyojuro’s body is very warm against your side.

That doesn’t change the fact that the minute he sets you down into your room you run for your sheets. Hiding beneath them you try to peek without being caught. The worry is worthless because Rengoku has already disappeared and Senjuro is in his place.

He hand feeds you chunks of fancy meat, you think it’s cow, and pets your hair while you try not to fall asleep. The boy is whispering all kinds of praises that melt into one another but the culmination of all of them buzzes under your skin. Senjuro is often quick to praise but you’ve never felt as if it’s been truly earned.

—-

The next day Kyojuro approaches your room (willingly) again. Senjuro is already is his typical spot while you hide in the corner.

You’re surprised, but not enough to move. Glancing up with tired eyes you watch him go towards his brother.

“How come you took them out of the room?”

“I- Aniue! I said I was sorry.”

“I know, I’m not mad or anything ok? You just gotta tell me what’s going on.”

You stick your head out of your bed to listen. Kyojuro gives you a curious glance before looking away.

“Um, Muichiro-kun said it’s good to involve demons with their feedings. It cultivates bonding. He said he saw it in an article online.”

The elder brother sighs deeply. “It shouldn’t have to be this way but I need you to ask me before you do things like this ok? I’m just looking out for you.”

“I’m sorry aniue.”

“Don’t be. I don’t- you shouldn’t have to be sorry. I’ll have a talk with father.”

“It won’t do anything,” he mumbles under his breath. Perhaps Senjuro is feeling especially bitter today.

Kyojuro frowns but can’t muster a response. His eyes sweep over the room before the man turns around to leave.

—-

It’s another day where Senjuro is gone but the eldest is still home. You can’t keep track of the days or form any sort of schedule, you just know this happens on occasion.

You creep out of your room early in the morning. Though you can rely on scent to lead you it’s not as good as simply knowing the space. Every few turns you convince yourself you’re passing something relatively familiar.

After minutes of wandering you pass the room that contains Rengoku. The door is open so you step inside, then back out, and then back in. You’re not sure how to grab his attention.

Turning around you leave, only to re-enter. This time you let your foot collide with the door. The small tapping noise grabs his attention. You try to resist the instinct to hide. For now you just slouch more and hold your arms to your chest.

“What do you want?” Kyojuro speaks normally for once. You could imagine him asking anyone the question.

Peeling back your lips you try to get your vocal chords to form the proper noises. Instead of words you push out a low grumble that leads into a whine. You try the action several times to imitate something he could understand.

Moving closer you attempt the noise once more. His face holds a confusing mix of emotions, still a bit of disgust hidden within the layers.

Bowing your head and rolling your shoulders you hope that body language could bridge the gap in his understanding.

“Are you saying sorry?” At the question you look up and nod eagerly. Your face can’t form a proper friendly smile, but the result is hopefully close enough. It’s silly but a sense of accomplishment washes over you.

The man smiles back (his is warm and honest, painted with a touch of surprise). “Oh, well, thank you I suppose.”

A beat of silence. You wouldn’t be able to respond with anything other than more primal calls.

“And you do a good job of taking care of Senjuro. I’m glad someone is here for him when I’m gone.”

Ignoring the underlying bitterness (jealousy? blame?) you nod once more. As your head bows a sneaky hand rises to pet it. Kyojuro only taps your hair once or twice beneath turning and returning to his work.

Pleased you make sure there’s nothing remaining before running back to your room.

#kny #demon slayer #rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #senjuro #rengoku senjuro #demon!reader #demon pet au #pet au #pet demon au #Shinjiro rengoku

[shadebloopnik]

Some really messy sketches on a small little AU with Carmilla as a Fallen Angel Warrior.

Different from the Exorcists who slaughter Sinners, and more dedicated to the actual protection of Heaven against the darker forces. The designs haven't been thought out much, but I like drawing the horns, so I thought it'd be a cool warrior hairdo, like how Exorcists wore demonic masks (I was really bored in class okay-)

Her daughters, Odette and Clara are there too. They looked pretty different even as twins, which were a bit of an oddity at the time. They were often made to dress alike, and act alike. Most viewed them as a package deal rather than taking time to understand their individuality.

Its why they're dressed so freely in hell, relishing in how different they can be whilst still having a great bond.

Her daughters are ultimately what causes her to fall. Drawing the half horn half hair down style looked a lot cooler in my head, but it was fun regardless.

Some secret regarding her daughters get found out, Heaven making her choose to either cast her daughters down or join them. Carmilla didn't hesitate.

More info on the AU/fic in the cut belowww:

I dunno if im ever gonna expand on it, but I loved the idea of making it Zestmilla. Maybe Carmilla met the old Overlord in one of her trips in hell, maybe fighting in a battle there? Or helping establish order? Anyway, she was alone when she met Zestial, and the two were quiet the enemies when they met. They fought, though didn't aim to kill, resulting in a close fight with Carmilla as victor. She wasn't an Exorcist warrior, and saw no need to immediately end this Overlord. She wasn't sent there to do mindless murder, and would like to avoid useless battles if she could. Besides, he was polite enough, and though she didn't trust him, he didn't grate on her nerves either. Zestial was quite taken with her, suspicious and quite murderous towards an angel, but liked her well enough for her wit and level headedness. Her grace and skill in battle was also admirable.

They bump into each other many more times, over the course of Carmilla's visits to hell, and with each meeting, they turn a bit more cordial, even striking an unlikely friendship, that blossoms into much more. It takes them about a hundred or so years(bc i LOVE relationships that REAAAALLLY take the time to develop and build on that trust and love) before they become romantically involved. They seem like the couple who would take it slow, being cautious and not rushing anything less it would harm the other.

And though Carmilla's trips to hell were halted, their love was not for naught as she gave birth to Clara and Odette. Her one regret was not being able to give Zestial the great news, he would've been an amazing father.

She manages to hide their identities for a good while. The two had rather angelic features, wings and all, and humanoid forms unlike their father's. The only thing that pointed to their demonic heritage were their eyes, whose sclera was the same shade of red as her iris. It was easily hidden with simple spells though. The two girls bore quite the resemblance towards her, even with some oddities, and were left fairly alone, being able to remain undetected for decades.

(I just left this post to sketch this out real quick lol, just to get the coloring in mind, not set on the design but I dont mind it.)

The peace couldn't last. After a while with Odette and Clara still being considered young as angels, their secret gets out. Maybe the spells wore off, or by a slip of the tongue, but for some reason or another it gets found out that they're half demons. They were attacked, and the daughters were stripped of their wings and sentenced to be cast down to Hell, left at the mercy of the next Extermination. Carmilla was given a chance to redeem herself and stand back, and let her "mistakes" be washed clean.

Carmilla fought back, her wingless daughters clutching to her own feathers for protection. She scooped them up, flying away to hell, less they get any more damaged. Try as she might, however, they didn't manage to escape unscathed. She plummeted into Hell; feeling the curses and painful burn of magic at her back, nipping at her form.

It was as if Heaven and Hell itself tore her apart with her descent, both pulling with reckless abandon, shaping her into what they wanted.

She couldn't even afford to lose consciousness; she had her daughters to protect after all. Both girls were weak and bleeding, their backs aching from where their wings used to be. Carmilla glanced at her own feathers, and felt her heart break. It looked just as painful as it felt. Her once sleek and razor sharp looking feathers were nearly singed beyond repair. She retracted them, less she attract more enemies with them in display.

She struggled to get up, carrying her daughters with her despite the weakness in her legs. She didn't even have her spear with her, weaponless except for the ballet slippers she'd forged herself with angelic steel. Her hair was down and unruly, all three of them covered in burns and cuts and bruises and bleeding wounds. The attack came out of nowhere. Her daughters weren't even given a chance to defend themselves.

Weaponless. It can't happen again.

She manages to drag her daughters with her, only one place she could think of approaching. Its been decades since she's been to Hell, she hopes the territories didn't change too much. She was hesitant in going to Zestial for help. After all, its been years, and she'd left without being able to say goodbye. He'd be justified in hating her, and she wouldn't hold it against him. At the least, they could hide somewhere in his territory. His lands were one of the best choices, the demons residing under his rule were fairly disciplined. In a place as dangerous as Hell, an environment that was fairly familiar to her gave some bit of comfort. Even if he didn't accept them, even if he was unaware of their existence, Carmilla was satisfied with simply a place to rest.

She needed not worry though. As soon as Zestial heard the slightest news about strangers in his territory, he rushed to meet them himself. He noticed the large crash just some hours before night fell, and couldn't help the spark of hope. He was greeted by the sight of a few dead bodies, 1 or 2 who thought they could get lucky taking advantage of a weakened opponent. He arrived just in time to see a third fall, bloodied heels clicking on the ground below. The figure stood tall, though was clearly tired and heaving deep breaths. He barely noticed the two smaller figures in the distance, his gaze focused solely upon the lone woman, whose silver hair was still so beautiful even with all the dirt and blood matting it. He stepped closer, the sound of it causing the woman to turn and-

It didn't matter how dark it was. It didn't matter how her sclera was now the same shade of red as her iris were, as if it were inverted. He'd recognize her anywhere.

Without caring that he'd get stabbed himself, he rushed to pull her in a tight embrace, feeling her freeze beneath his arms. He buried his face in her hair, nuzzling it even with the blood and dirt, afraid as though she'd disappear if he ever let go.

He felt her large hands wrap around him and for the first time since his existence in Hell, he felt as if he could cry. This was real. This wasn't a figment of his imagination, nor a result of insanity. She was here. After all these years she came back to him. He couldn't be happier.

He immediately takes her and the two girls back to his residence, letting them clean up and helping patch their wounds. When he found out the two were his daughters, he felt as if- yea no, he was crying, this wasn't just a feeling, he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as he hugged the two as firmly as he could without aggravating their wounds. He felt so angry for them, enraged that heaven could deal out such punishments for something the girls couldn't control.

He took them all in, preparing rooms for everyone. He prepared one for Carmilla too, not wanting to push his luck. It has been years after all, and he didn't want to force himself onto her should she decide she didn't reciprocate anymore. In the end, they all slept in the same room. Carmilla wanted to be with Zestial, feeling safer with someone else in the room to stand guard, and her daughters crawled back to her, far too afraid to sleep in such a new place alone after everything that happened.

So they all snuggled in the same large bed, Zestial keeping a respectful distance from the young girls as to not frighten them, all the while letting his webbed cloak wrap around Carmilla in comfort.

Carmilla fell asleep last, her thoughts running wild. It was all so much, but right now, here with her daughters in her arms and under Zestial's embrace, she felt at peace for the first time in a long while.

Glancing at the mirror across the room, she hummed at the changes in her eyes. The only thing she could think of was how was that she finally matched her daughters. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, she'd think, drifting off into sleep.

#FallenLord AU #this MAAAAAYYYY have gotten away from me #i was only supposed to write the small AU idea with the sketches I doodled in class. but i couldn't stop typing- #this may work on into a fic????? not so sure #bloopnik writing #bloopnik rambles #zestmilla #hazbin hotel zestial #zestial hazbin hotel #zestial x carmilla #zestial #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla #angel carmilla au #angel carmilla #clara carmine #odette carmine #bloopnik art #fic #fanfic #fanfictions #hellaverse #hazbin hotel #hazbin fanart #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel art #artwork #sketch #redesigns

[hillbillyoracle]

So you want to print and distribute a free zine...

I wanted to throw together a short tutorial on how I print zines using this excellent COVID safety zine by @newlevant as an example.

Printing

First make sure you are clicking on the printable file. When you open it, it should look slightly jumbled. I always look for seeing the front cover and the back cover on the same page.

Then click "print" (usually a printer icon) and open "more settings".

The key things people tend to get wrong when they try printing zines is they forget to make sure that it is double sided and flips on the short edge. If you tried printing one and it came out looking wonky, make sure to check this.

Also, it will make your life infinitely easier if you use the collate option should you have it available to you.

Fit to printable area is a helpful setting to have on if you're printing zines who use a different paper standard than you. This zine didn't for me but I leave this on out of habit.

When you've got this all set up - print as many copies as you want to assemble.

Assembling

When you get them out of the printer they'll look like this. Just a big old stack. I highly recommend parsing out each individual copy before you try assembling any. I have made that mistake before.

This is how I stack mine.

I like to leave the cover side up as it makes for a clearer division as I'm assembling.

As you're flipping through these to parse and stack them, check them over for any issues with printing. I ran out of printer toner on the first three so I'm glad I checked.

Imperfections are fine but you're looking for anything that makes critical information unreadable.

To assemble a copy, get them lined up by tapping them on the table along a short and a long edge.

Both hands is a lot easier but I was trying to take a picture lol

Then fold them hamburger style and smooth down the spine as best you can. If you have a bone folder or similar use that.

Again, let go of perfection. We are looking for good enough here. Minor errors here should not make info unreadable so don't sweat the small stuff.

I recommend doing all your folding in one go to prevent errors. Or at least it really helps me.

Now it's time to staple. You will see my fancy stapler in the background - you do not require it and I would not recommend it. Unhinging a normal stapler is way easier to use in my opinion and this one gets jammed fairly easy. Use what you've got.

If you don't have staples, but you do have sewing supplies - check out this tutorial for a way to bind it with thread.

If you have no staples and no thread, you don't have to staple every zine. Smaller ones (~5 pages or less) do fine with no staple. They can be a little tougher for some people to use and don't hold up as well being taken in and out of places so I would consider that when thinking of where to leave them. They're still well worth printing and putting out.

This zine is small enough that one staple in the center should be enough to keep it together.

I opted to staple in two places - one about an inch in from either edge - mostly out of habit. It does add a little stability and will make them a little better for putting in Little Free Libraries and other places where they'll be removed and placed back.

Here is my partner looking over the zines to make sure my stapling didn't cut off any important information in each copy. It's a little tedious but it's pretty important. A quick flip through can mean the difference between someone getting the info you want them to have or not.

And here's the finished product

I made 15. I'm pretty privileged and have been making zines for over a decade now so it's almost like knitting or crochet for me. Feel free to make fewer copies or just one for yourself. It still counts.

I will stick some in each car and my bag. I have some medical appointments coming up so I will for sure be leaving some of these in the waiting room.

I'm also going to keep an eye out for Little Free Libraries and other place where people are looking for something to read. I might also toss some on the tables of a coffee shop I pop into sometimes (masked, take out only) and the library to pick up books (also masked).

I tend not to give them to specific people, even people I know, because people are way more open to information they've picked up themself than something it feels like someone is pressuring them to read. But if people bring it up in conversation, I'll be sure to offer a copy to anyone who is interested.

Hope this is helpful!

Go out there and print!

#zine #COVID #long COVID #self publishing #activism

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Here's a little angst snippet from the Captain John Price x medic!reader fic that I want to write. Unpolished and bad tbh but this isn't meant to be a finished thing lol

Warnings: established relationship, angst

"I'm not going to have this conversation with right now." You stated firmly as you looked away from him.

"Why?" Price demanded and you let out a huff of air as you stared up at the dusk sky.

"You know why! We talk in circles about this all the time; we both love each other and we both want to open about it but neither of us are willing to quit our jobs!"

Price gripped the wooden railing of the bridge and shook his head with disbelief. He knew you were right, of course he knew, but no matter how many times you both argue he could never get over the circumstances of your forbidden relationship. It always struck a cord, especially when the two of you were together on leave and being in Las Almas didn't help.

He knew deep down that there was no other option but to keep it a secret but he didn't want to let go of the hope that maybe there was a chance.

He didn't want to believe that neither of you could truly ever be together.

"The boys won't care." Price offered but you shook your head. "They already think there's something between us."

"Only because we've slipped up multiple times around them." You pointed out and clenched his jaw.

Price huffed with frustration and he crossed his arms. You were right again and he knew that it was a problem you both had started slip up after nearly a decade of sneaking around. It was starting to weigh on both of you that this was going to be your life together.

There was no happily ever after.

You both were happy together but it also hurt you both to continue to do this number for as long as you both have. And yet, neither of you could let go of the other; how could he love someone else when you existed in the same life as him?

Price let his arms drop beside him and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Silence cut between you both as you listened to the nightlife of Las Almas, the promise of a get away from work ruined because neither of you could truly enjoy your time together if the team was present as well.

"I wish we could be public about our relationship." Your voice was wavering slightly as you looked at the fading sunset before you glanced at him with tears in your eyes that made the breath hitch in his throat. You took a deep breath but he could see that you were holding on a thread and it took everything in him to not pull you into his chest. "And it hurts to have to keep it a secret."

"I know, love." He said in a defeated and soft voice as he himself felt his throat start to tighten.

You rarely said it, even when it was just the two of you, but he could see it in you. It was in the way your eyes dimmed when you couldn't touch him, the way that you seemed to shrink into yourself when someone tried to flirt with him and you were forced to stay quiet. He saw the way you faltered when you had to tell others that, no you weren't seeing anyone when he was standing next to you.

It hurt him just as much to not hold you or to not tell others that he was spoken for. Every time he had to pull away from you, away from your warmth he couldn't get rid of the heaviness in his chest especially when the moments you two could be together were few and far between recently.

His missed you terribly and yet he couldn't have you. Not in the way that either of you wanted.

The only way the two of you could be together was if either of you retired, which was years away and less likely to happen. Both of you were more likely to die on the battlefield than that.

If only it was different...

If only, if only...

If only he could break this one rule for you. He would break every rule just to be with you.

Price felt his heart ache, and he bit down on his lips as he felt the familiar sting of tears in his eyes. He took a shaky breath as he stared out at the last remnants of the sunset, forcing himself to keep his hand away from yours.

Before he could stop himself he spoke.

"I'd marry you if I could."

Of course he would. He had thought over and over again how many times he should buy a ring and pop the question. He knew exactly where he'd do it, how he'd do it and what you would want. He had thought about getting to see you walk down the aisle to finally have something to show that he was yours and you were his.

If Price was being truthful, he would've married you years ago. He would've married you yesterday or even tomorrow.

He looked at you and gripped the railing so tight his knuckles went white.

You stared at him not with shock or surprise like how someone normally would react to being proposed to, if that's what you could even call it, but instead you looked at him as if your grieved the thought.

Because marriage had been taken away from you the moment you had decided to fall in love with him.

A few tears rolled down your cheeks and you wiped them away. You looked away from him, unable to bear the pain on your face as you nodded. You didn't speak, you couldn't but Price didn't need you to say anything to know that you wanted to marry him too.

Price couldn't hold himself back anymore as he placed a hand against your cheek and wiped a few of the tears that fell. He didn't care if someone saw him comforting you, especially when you leaned into his hand as if it was your saving grace.

He stared at you with blurry eyes and blinked back his tears as he tried his hardest to take yours away.

"I love you."

More tears fell and you tried your hardest to speak but you couldn't Your entire body shook and it was impossible to stop the sob that escaped your lips. As much as you wanted to say it back you couldn't, so instead you rushed back towards the bar.

Price let you go and didn't follow.

He wasn't hurt because you left him, he knew you too well to know think that it meant anything other than you needing space, but he couldn't help run his hand over his eyes to get rid of the tears stuck there. He took a few deep breaths and stared at the buildings around him, unable to get rid of the pain in his chest.

Captain John Price wasn't a man who cried and yet he couldn't help but let a few tears fall.

#captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #john price x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you #price x reader #price x you #captain john price #john price #price mw2 #mw2 price

[azures-bazar]

What a Party 

A happy (and long) one shot ! .... based on real events lol

I needed to write some happy stuff, especially considering the overall mess happening in France right now (you know, riots, overall strikes, arrogant politicians voicing their hate on common folk...) :')

I tried my best to make it short, but there were too many things to be said ! There's a part filled with some "I love you" quotes. Please excuse my mistakes, you already know about my very peculiar writing schedule... and my weird English, lol

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutralReader 

Word count : 3.5k

Short summary : Let’s be honest : you’re drunk. And Arthur, being a little less drunk than you during Sean’s return party, really hopes he can tell you how much he loves you tonight. 

A/Note : Arthur’s tent has got some flaps !

Tags : chapter 2, soft, alcohol, you’re drunk, Arthur’s drunk, Sean’s return party, Arthur loves you, the ground is moving, soft, nausea, cigarette, drunk behaviour, Hosea being a dad, ring dang doo

"Got a hole in the middle, and it's split in two !"

You kept singing along with the rest of the gang, holding your whiskey bottle in your right hand and a cigarette in the other. You could not recall how many bottles you already had the opportunity to gulp down, being dragged by Sean into a drinking contest. You knew about your upcoming fate, so did he. You were supposed to be on guard duty by sunrise, which was going to be complicated considering the amount of alcohol your body had to evacuate overnight. 

"And that's what ya call the ring dang doo !"

You could easily recall that the gang was not often in such a great mood. You had been a member of the Van Der Linde gang for about a decade, having been around since your mid-teens after Dutch and Hosea had found you struggling with the law following a fight you had with another kid, who happened to be a sheriff’s son. Hosea had used his scamming skills to pretend you were his child and that he had been looking around the area after you ran away following a minor dispute. The sheriff believed that story well enough, and this event marked your official induction into the gang. 

In ten years, you had seen the gang’s ups and downs. You had witnessed Arthur grieving his son, Bessie Matthews’ passing, the arrival and death of new members, the birth of the very first gang’s child, John’s departure and return a little less than a year later… and you took part to the Blackwater incident. Arthur had begged Dutch not to let you participate to it, wanting to take your place instead, believing things were not going to go according to his plan. Indeed, Morgan was right, and you left Blackwater with numerous wounds on your arms and a rather tiny hole on your calf after being shot multiple times. 

You and Arthur were close, very close. Ever since a few months, to say the least. Anyone could easily tell he had a soft spot for you prior the Blackwater ferry heist, even you could notice how different he was when you were around. Arthur was good at hiding his feelings behind a rather stern and grumpy face, often looking away whenever your eyes would meet his, turning shades darker each time he would be greeted with a smile. Neither you nor him had ever made a first move towards the other, which was frustrating to the eyes of the girls who openly voiced their discontent. 

"These two are made for each other and won’t even talk !" Karen often sighed 

"Isn’t that romantic ? Two souls, so in love… yet unable to communicate !" Mary-Beth would smile

"It ain’t romantic, it’s stupid."

And despite not openly voicing your feelings, Arthur was very good at making you feel adored. Your tent was right next to his, he would often bring you some coffee in the morning, share a meal with you, discuss about arts, landscapes and plants before moving forward. Such a brawny and menacing-looking man talking about the beauty of some flowers never ceased to surprise you ! As Hosea would often say : Arthur was not as dumb as he looked, hiding a high intelligence, often being taken for an idiot by many people. His low self-esteem was the main reason why he never openly showed how smart he was, and how much he cared about you. He was too shy and not confident enough to move forwards, but could easily talk about everything he liked with you without having the feeling of being looked down as a random intimidating outlaw with no brains.

He had awkwardly brought you a bouquet one day after collecting a few flowers nearby, hiding it behind his back while his face was as red as a tomato, stuttering a few words you could barely understand due to his heavy Southern accent and low voice. After he gave you that bouquet, Arthur proceeded retrieving to his tent and hide his red face behind his hands while you kept his gift in a vase near your cot, humming the scent of these flowers for days while the girls had clapped his move. 

"One big step forward !" Tilly had exclaimed 

That night, everything was possible, every door was opened for you to make a first move towards Arthur. You were drunk, laughing, dancing, displaying a rather eccentric side to the rest of the gang which had undoubtedly caught Morgan’s eye as he had stopped drinking his beer while sitting at the table with Bill and John to look at you. He watched Uncle wrap his arm around your shoulders as you sang with him louder and louder, believing you would loose your voice at some point. But you kept singing, not even bothering about what was going on around you, enjoying the moment as you somewhat believed it would not last long enough. 

Hosea had tried dissuading you from drinking so much, using his fatherly tone to refrain you�� but you did not care about his warnings. You were aware of the consequences of your sudden desire to drink this much, knowing about your upcoming state early in the morning when you would have to patrol around the hideout with your riffle while enduring a rather heavy headache and an endless nausea. It was not your first time being drunk and certainly not be the last. Sean was back ! How many drinking contests you were about to have together ! Hosea was already excepting the worst to happen to you, knowing that being drunk was quick to make you unleash your child-self, and nobody wanted to have two children doing a drinking contest. 

"Easy, Y/N !" he sighed, looking at you gulping down your whiskey. "Leave some for the rest of us !"

"Don't worry, old man !" you smiled.

Dutch had switched his gramophone on, you spotted him dancing with Molly while Arthur danced with Mary-Beth, chuckling a little, glancing at you whenever he had the chance. He could easily tell that making you stand up would not be an excellent idea, watching you gulp down another beer after cheering with Karen who sang on Sean’s lap. Arthur’s vision was getting a little blurry with time, he also had drank too much. A little less than you did, but enough for him to have some serious issues walking straight from a tent to another. Mary-Beth left him to get a drink with Tilly, Arthur approached you and smiled. 

"Ain’t that a nice nighty night !" he exclaimed, placing his large hands on your shoulders 

"Damn, Morgan’s already drunk !" Uncle exclaimed 

"Nah, I ain’t drunk !"

"Yes you are !" 

"I ain’t drunk, you old fool !" 

Your vision was so blurry, you would loose balance even while sitting down ! Your hand instinctively reached his, causing Karen to clap her hands and Pearson to smile. Neither you nor Arthur would have done something like this being sober ! 

"Alright, maybe a lil’ tipsy." Arthur laughed

"Good lord..." Hosea sighed, leaving his seat

On occasions, you would only touch each other when you were stitching up your wounds. One day, your hand had accidentally brushed Arthur’s, which caused him to awkwardly smile and stay petrified for a minute before hiding in his tent. He had wrote a three pages long journal entry, expressing how sweet the tip of your fingers felt on his skin, how unexpected it was, and how much he would have wanted to catch your hand at that time, but was too shy to try it. A third of Arthur’s journal was filled with entries about you… and you would probably never get to read them as he always kept his sketchbook to close. 

"Well, ain’t that a great move !" Karen exclaimed 

"We’re literally doing nothin’." Arthur grumbled while unconsciously massaging your shoulders as you let out a loud moan escape your lips

"No, you really ain’t !" John shouted from the poker table

"We ain’t doing nothin’ !" you answered. "We ain’t !… Keep goin’, Arthur…" 

"Sure thing, Y/N."

The sound of Javier’s guitar mixed with Dutch’s gramophone and the gang singing old ballads created a very peculiar symphony you enjoyed, singing to yourself while looking up and down, still holding onto Arthur’s hand. You could hear him sing above your head, mumbling a few words whenever the lyrics were unknown to him. You laughed so often, nearly crying at Sean’s jokes, unable to keep breathing at times. This moment was a fine one, especially knowing that Arthur was standing behind you. 

At some point, Morgan helped you up to make you walk a little around camp, feeling the need to take you away from the others. Despite being drunk himself, Arthur still appeared to be self-conscious and was aware of the surroundings, knowing that not everyone was going to celebrate Sean’s return, that some of you were on guard duty and others, like little Jack and Abigail, for instance, were already asleep. While you were singing and, unfortunately, ended up throwing up a few feet away from Kieran’s sleeping spot, Arthur would be looking around, gently patting your back. The worst was probably the fact that you regretted nothing. 

"You’re alright there ?" he chuckled 

"Nah, I ain’t alright !" 

"You’ll be alright, then !" 

You sighed at Arthur’s sarcastic answer. It took you a few seconds to calm yourself down and stand up again, Arthur firmly held you by the shoulders in order to keep you on your feet. Your balance was weak, and Morgan’s one was certainly not any better as you would zigzag while making your way back to camp after straying away. Your common drunkenness did not make you notice that Dutch was supervising the two of you from his tent and had dragged Hosea into this rather peculiar activity. They kept judging Arthur’s overall behaviour, finding it a little too childish, especially knowing who Arthur was and what his tasks usually were. Collecting debts, robbing shops and banks, sometimes beating people up… the list was longer than that, indeed.

"Remind me how old Arthur is, Hosea…" Dutch muttered, smoking his cigar 

"Thirty-six." Hosea sighed. "Our boy’s thirty-six." 

They watched you making your way back to the poker table to join John and Bill who were probably as drunk as you were. You could not sit down, clinging onto Arthur’s shirt as he calmly tried pushing you to one of the barrels for you to rest your legs a little. Morgan’s vision was a little less blurry than yours, and your wellbeing had to be put before his. He was aware of how drunk the two of you were and was not going to miss the opportunity to openly show his love to you ! 

"Nah, can’t sit down !" you said, looking at the ground who was literally moving like a river. "The ground’s movin’ !" 

"The ground’s movin’ ?" Arthur chuckled, suddenly looking down. "Holly shit, John, Bill !" 

"What ?" John wheezed, tilting his head

"You ain’t gonna believe it, but the ground’s movin’ !" 

"Movin’ ?" Bill’s eyes widened. "You sure ?"

While looking down, Bill fell from his seat and bursted out laughing, unable to get up anymore. Hosea grumbled as Arthur grabbed you by the waist in order to lead you to the domino table for you to get some quiet… but your destination was quite unsure. The two of you kept tripping, you laughed loudly enough. Wild animals were probably running away from your location at the moment. As you passed by Jack and Abigail’s tent, Arthur grabbed your arm and rubbed it, chuckling like a mischievous child, placing his finger before his smiling mouth. 

"Shhhhhhh !" 

"Aye ! Shhhhhhh !" you responded, mimicking him 

Arthur grabbed your hand as you tiptoed towards the back of Pearson’s wagon, grabbing a beer and drinking it together before leading you to the domino table on which you decided to sit, kicking your legs back and forth. Arthur moved a little forward, placing his hands on your thighs. Despite your blurry vision, you could easily tell Arthur was giving you his absolutely adorable puppy look, along with a charming smile. He was certainly about to ask you something… or was going to faint due to his overall state of drunkenness.  His face said it all. 

"Hey, Y/N." he sheepishly said

"Yeah ?" 

"Can… can I steal a kiss...?" 

"Been waiting for that for so long ! Sure you c…-" 

You had no time to finish your sentence, Arthur bent and dropped a sweet but quick kiss on your lips, stepping back a little. He had done it ! He had finally moved forward and kissed you ! What an exploit for such a shy and not confident man ! Arthur felt butterflies flying in his belly, he was turning shades darker just by looking at you. You were so amazing, so gorgeous, so sweet ! He wanted to cup your adorable face in his hands and cover it with kisses, but his rational side was still in control and forbid him making another step forward. 

"Wait." you whimpered, somewhat unhappy about such a short kiss

You did not allow him to step further away, forcing him to bend one more time by holding him by the collar. You were seeing him twice, unable to understand where you had to look in order to return his kiss. Your heart was melting, and in no way could you just stay here doing nothing ! You had waited for so long for Arthur to make such a huge step forward and, despite the condition you both were in, drunk but somewhat conscious about your actions, you were not able to let go of him. You did, however, notice that Sean and Karen were standing somewhere near you. 

"I love you…" Arthur desperately mumbled, feeling a sudden freedom invade him. "I love you ! I love you !"

"So do I, Arthur…! I love you too ! So much, so bloody much !" 

"I love you ! I love you ! And I’ll repeat it ’til the end ‘cause tomorrow I’ll be shy again ! I love you !" 

"Oh my god, this is happening !" Tilly cheered. "Mary-Beth ! Mary-Beth ! They’re saying they love each other !" 

"No way !" Mary-Beth answered, clapping her hands 

At this moment, what was surrounding the two of you did not matter anymore. You had completely forgotten about the fact that you were being watched and closed your eyes. Arthur moved forwards, leading you to an incredibly passionate kiss you wanted to be endless. You were perfectly conscious about what you were doing, and were proud. Happy, and proud. You could feel Arthur’s hands move behind your back, your legs spread wide for his body to touch yours. Even Sean had stopped courting Karen for a moment to witness such a peculiar event ! You and Arthur were kissing each other !

Your bodies fused into one being, one entity. So warm, so beautiful, so sweet… something good could come out of the two of you, something amazing. Mary-Beth was right, the two of you were soulmates. You deserved each other. Your kiss was so intense, so exciting that you almost forgot about all these people watching you. Things escalated quickly as Arthur pushed you on the table to lean above you, causing Hosea to run towards your direction and separate the two of you before Arthur or yourself would start stripping down due to the overall excitement this single kiss had triggered. 

"Easy there, fellers !" Hosea said, helping you standing up. "Do I need to remind you where you are ?" 

"No." Arthur shook his head, holding himself onto the table. "Sorry, ‘Sea." 

"You two should get some sleep. It’s getting late and Y/N’s on guard duty in the morning." 

"Can I sleep with Arthur then ?" you asked with a rather childish tone 

"What ?"

Arthur turned his head to you with a large smile while Hosea remained a little surprised at your sudden request. Being drunk made you loose your actual adult filter, words escaped your mouth without you being able to control them. Indeed, you never needed anyone’s approval, especially not for something as casual as sleeping in someone’s tent ! You had done this a numerous amount of times with John without even asking Dutch, but felt the need to inform Hosea about your current desire not to finish this night alone. 

"Sorry, Y/N." Hosea chuckled, gently patting your shoulder. "Why do you ask ? You’re a grown adult, you don’t need my approval for that." 

"Let’s take it as a yes, then." Arthur smiled. "I’ll go get the bed ready !"

"It ain’t wise. Really ain’t." 

Noticing the three of you talking, Dutch came closer to you to cut out a potential argument. Hosea was shaking his head, not wanting the two of you to sleep in the same tent because of the overall noise you would potentially cause. Hosea had always been quite protective towards you, being genuinely attached to your overall personality and sweet behaviour which often led him to feel the need to watch over you, especially when things were not going well… or when you were drunk. 

"Dutch !" Arthur said with the exact same childish tone you used. "Can Y/N sleep in my tent ? Hosea says it ain’t wise." 

"Why the hell are you asking that ?" Dutch laughed, not hiding his surprise. "Of course they can !"

"Dutch, I don’t think that’s reasonable…" Hosea sighed, covering his face with his palm. "Y/N’s on guard duty in the morning. They’re drunk and might end up throwing up on each other all night long." 

"Let those kids be, Old Girl." 

Hosea rolled eyes and sighed. Leaving two drunk fools sleep in the same tent that night was probably not wise, but what could he say ? Arthur held your hand and led you to his tent, carefully closing its flaps after placing a few empty buckets underneath his bed in case of an emergency. Arthur took off your boots and suspenders, proceeding to do the same before laying down with you. there was no much space for the two of you to properly fit in, so Arthur held you close to him while you buried your head into the crook of his neck. His breath was calming, especially considering the fact that Karen and Sean were actually having fun in John’s tent at the moment. What a party ! 

Surprisingly enough, your night was rather quiet. You woke up with a heavy headache, calmly looking down at Arthur who was sleeping like a log. However, as soon as sensed you were no longer in bed with him, he whined and stretched a little, opening his eyes to look at you. His eyelids were heavy enough for him to grumble as he could see you struggle putting on boots on, blinded by the only ray of sunlight which passed between the tent’s flaps. Arthur rolled over a little on his cot and reached out to your hand, leading you to blush and sit near him. 

"‘Bout yesterday…" you sheepishly mumbled. "I… well I…" 

"I love you, Y/N… I didn’t forget anythin’… I didn’t… and I still love you…" 

"I love you too. Now, get back to sleep."

You were so thankful to be able to remember what had happened last night ! Arthur smiled a little, your free hand caressed his cheek. You dropped a soft kiss on his forehead as soon as you noticed he was drifting back into sleep. You wanted to join him, burry yourself into his embrace, roll into his blanket and remain with him all day long ! You analysed Arthur’s chiseled cheekbones, his sleepy smile, his little scars, his beard. You envied his eyelashes, so long and furnished. His beautiful green orbs were moving underneath his eyelids, he was already dreaming ! 

"Y/N !" Javier shouted from the outside. "We’re on guard duty, come on !"

You sighed, dropping another kiss on Arthur’s forehead while replacing the blanket above his shoulders, looking at him nuzzling his head against his pillow while whining a little. How sweet he was, how angelic he looked ! You left his tent and headed to the entrance of Horseshoe Overlook, rubbing your head a numerous amount of times, struggling not to fall asleep for hours until Sean came to replace you, instructing you to drink some whiskey to calm your heavy migraine. You and Arthur often met while taking care of camp chores, smiling at each other despite your overall pain. Both of you had strong headaches almost incapacitating you, but you kept moving. What a night you had ! When the sun went down, instead of heading inside your tent, Arthur dragged you to his one again… and you could not say no. 

It had taken him a few drinks to finally move forwards and tell you how much he loved you. He was not going to let go, and neither would you. What a party you had ! Your feelings were blooming, burning you from in inside, despite your increasing exhaustion. You nuzzled against Arthur’s chest after the sun went down, recalling the events of the other night with a large smile. These numerous drinks had helped you moving forward, you would not be resting into his embrace otherwise. 

Oh, what a party it was, indeed.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #gender neutral reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #azurestales #my gifs #drunk arthur morgan #hosea matthews #john marston #sean macguire #drunk tales are the best I'm sorry #based on my own experience lmao #arthur morgan gifs

[ichorai]

stitched ; sam wilson.

pairing ; sam wilson x super soldier!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; “I just worry about you—I know you can handle yourself, seeing as you’re all enhanced and whatnot, but… well, super soldiers can still bleed out, too.”

words ; 1.1k

themes ; fluff, very mild angst

warnings / includes ; a bit suggestive by the end, mild cursing, blood/injury/stitches, reader is nearly as old as bucky lol, bucky makes an appearance, sam is just a big old worrywart :(

main masterlist.

“Ow—Sam, that fuckin’ hurts—ow!”

Your boyfriend tore his eyes away from the deep gash in your forearm arm that he was stitching up to give you a mildly stern look. “It won’t hurt if you stop squirming around. In fact, this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t gone on that mission, like Steve warned you not to. You’ve got too much history with these folks—it’s dangerous for both you and everyone else on the team. Sit still for a sec and let me do my job, okay?”

Huffing, you slumped back into the sofa, using your free hand to frustratedly pull at your face, still bloody and caked with grime from the mission. You grimaced. A steaming hot shower sounded more than appealing right about now—along with a nice, long nap right after. Sam went back to sewing you up, grip a little tighter than necessary on your wrist.

“Why are you being so dramatic?” you asked him, shifting so that your free hand would rest against his bicep, patting him gently. “It was just a shard of glass—”

He didn’t spare you a glance, snorting as he shook his head. “A shard of glass from when a super soldier threw you through a skyscraper’s window, sure. You could’ve died.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t—I’m a super soldier too, Sam. And Bucky caught me, remember?” you gently replied. Carefully, you moved your hand upwards to cradle his face, thumb smoothing over his stubbled jaw. Sam paused in his suturing to look at you, his dark eyes wavering for a moment upon seeing your soft smile. “I’m fine, see? This’ll be completely healed over in two days’ time, just watch.”

The man in front of you squared his jaw and went on to finish the last of the stitches, neatly tying it off and placing the needle and thread away to the side. 

“It could’ve been a lot worse,” Sam said, slightly less stiff. His hand came up to lay over yours on his face, pulling your fingers forward to plant a soft kiss against your knuckles, before holding them close to his chest. “I just worry about you—I know you can handle yourself, seeing as you’re all enhanced and whatnot, but… well, super soldiers can still bleed out, too.” 

Chest tightening, you leaned closer to him, pressing a chaste kiss right beside his nose, and rested your forehead over his, noses bumping against one another. He smelled of earthy smoke and that citrus bodywash of yours he always stole, and something else just entirely him. You inhaled deeply, ignoring the burning pain within the side of your ribcage as you did so. “I know,” you whispered. After a brief moment of silence, you told him, “Thank you—for the stitches and the mother henning. Though, I could do with a little bit less of the latter.”

Wary of your freshly-sown injury, he tugged you closer, winding his arms around you in a sweet embrace. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled into your hair, littering feathery kisses along your temple. Even quieter, he tacked on, “I love you. Even though you’re, like, a million years old.”

“I’m only a hundred and five,” you gasped, abruptly pulling away to smack at his chest. “That’s younger than Bucky!” 

“Oh, yeah, because Bucky is so young and spritely,” your boyfriend scoffed in response. 

“Right, and we’re the one who chose to be cryogenically put to sleep and trained to be a killing machine throughout the decades,” you sarcastically bit out, though your tone lacked any real bite to it. 

Suddenly, said super soldier strode through the open doorway, crossing his arms as a playful, light smile curled at the corner of his lips. “My ears are burning,” he said, sending you a knowing look as you sheepishly pulled away from Sam. “You guys talkin’ about me?”

“Just about which nursing home we should throw you into,” you snarked, which earned you a guffaw of laughter and a proud high-five from Sam. 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky made his way over, throwing himself onto the couch beside you. “Tell me, what ever happened to respect your elders?” He turned his attention to your wound, features visibly softening. “You okay? Took quite a hit out there.”

“Just fine, Buck,” you reassured him, nudging him with a grateful grin. “I would be a gross sludge of mushy roadkill if it wasn’t for you.”

Sam made a disgruntled noise at your choice of words, but the two of you ignored him.

Your old friend smiled at you, then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. “You guys down to watch a movie or somethin’? Steve told me that Star Wars was pretty good. Ever watched that, Y/N?”

“Nope,” you quipped, blanching at the memory of your growing list of movies to catch up on. “Sorry, Bucky, I’m completely joed. I gotta hit the showers—get all this crusty blood off of me. I’m down to watch it with you tomorrow, though.” 

Nodding in understanding, Bucky shooed you away when you planted a sloppy kiss to his cheek and cuffed him in the shoulder, sauntering away with a laugh. He wiped your kiss away with the back of his hand, before settling further into the couch and flicking through the channels.

“Alright, man,” said Sam after a moment, dusting his pants off and patting Bucky’s knee. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a rendezvous with a certain super soldier in the shower.”

Absent-mindedly, Bucky waved him away as well, mumbling a goodbye under his breath.

It was only as Sam was heading over to the bathroom, his shirt already in the process of being tugged off, did Bucky register what he was saying.

“Ew! Did you really have to tell me that? You guys are gross!” groaned Bucky, pulling a face at the thought. The rest of his complaints fell beneath his breathy grumbles, too quiet for Sam to pick up on. 

Sam could only snort in amusement at that, before swinging the bathroom door open to see you brushing your teeth by the sink, bits of minty foam gathered by the corners of your lips. He enthusiastically greeted you with an affectionate kiss to your cheek, accompanied by a pair of hands suggestively wandering down to your hips. 

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fluff #marvel fanfic #sam wilson drabbles #sam wilson imagines #sam wilson scenarios #the falcon x reader #sam wilson x you #the falcon x you #marvel x reader #marvel drabbles #sam wilson smut #captain america x reader #sam wilson angst

[glassprism]

Hi! You may have answered this before, and if you have, I'm sorry for asking a question you have already asked.

Do you know the age range for Christine actresses? Like how old the oldest actress was when they played here. I know the youngest has been 18 and I know Kaley Ann Voorhees (I remember her specifically since she was the Christine when I saw it on Broadway) was one of those. (I'm excluding Emmy Rossum from this since I'm talking strictly stage show).

I'm curious because she's always been a dream role, but I think I might be reaching the age of being too old {25}. Even if I am, though, I'll be content with doing it in the privacy of my own home. Lol.

So first, I just kind of want to say that I'm really worried for the state of the industry if you and others start thinking that 25 is "too old" to play Christine. (This is what happens when you keep casting younger and younger, CamMack and co.!)

Now, as for your actual question: I think we should separate it into two related but still somewhat different categories: who are the youngest and oldest Christines ever (basically the minimum and maximum age ranges, good as little factoids of knowledge) and what is the general age range (probably more useful for someone actually looking to get the role).

To start with the first, a couple of corrections! The youngest Christines have actually been around 16-17 years old, and no, I'm not including Emmy Rossum in this: actresses like Katie Hall and Amy Nuttall were 16 when cast as understudies and 17 when they performed the role, while Kaja Mianowana, Paulina Janczak, and Marta Hadžimanov were 17 when cast as principals (though typically sharing the role with a somewhat older actress). Additionally, actresses like Olivia Safe, Sarah Bakker, Julie Goodwin, and Amy Hudson Holder, were 18 to 19 years old when cast as understudies or alternates. Kaley Ann Voorhees was actually 20 years old, not 18, when she was first cast in Phantom, making her comparatively older than some of the others on this list, though she was still the youngest actress to play Christine on Broadway.

Now as for the oldest, those would probably be Barbara Fonyo who was 50 when she ended her run, as well as Lisa Vroman, who was 47, and Jill Washington, who was 46, when they ended theirs.

However, the general age range of Christines, I'd say, is probably mid 20s to 30s, and you'll typically see that in casting calls where, if they specify an age range, will say something like "20-29" and what-not. I have said that it seems productions are casting younger, and honestly it seems like every new Christine is only in her 20s, but there have been several actresses cast in the show in their 30s even in the last decade or so: Valerie Link in Hamburg (34), Ali Ewoldt on Broadway (34), and Meghan Picerno in the World Tour and Broadway (maybe 34/35).

But ultimately, your actual age will matter less than what age you can play as (e.g. some people can play teenagers and young adults into their 30s and 40s) and, more importantly, your skills when it comes to singing, acting, and (to some extent) dancing. That should ultimately be the focus when trying to become Christine, not your age!

#GP gets asks #anonymous

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

hmm. conversely, most ADHD car?

(A dab o' context for y'all, this ask came hot off the heels of my most autistic car post, hence the "conversely".)

Well, when I read this, I had nothing. But then I thought about it a little, and suddenly, I continued to have nothing.

But you already know that, dear asker, because you're in the blog's Discord server which I turned to for suggestions. And in fact, you chipped in yourself with not one but two picks, first of which the fifth generation Ford Mustang!

So, pray tell, what brings my elementary school self's favorite car ever ever into this list?

uhh from like a cultural view its an unfocused and hyperactive car with a reputation of not going the way people want (see: crowd meme)

Oh, come on, are we really still not over that stereotype whereby late model Mustangs are owned by people both too eager to show off not to leave a car meet flooring it and too inept to actually keep it under control when they do?

Well, I guess to get over it it'll need to stop being true.

But also, being so much of an exhibitionist as to cause physical pain is not about ADHD at all!

Anyone I invite at my house gets bored to tears with a tour of my every possession...

...but not because I have ADHD!

Actually, you know what? That may really be it now that I think about it. Well, anyway, your submission is funny enough to earn a pass even if we don't see eye to eye on this anyway.

How about your second, though?

alternatively: late '90s to early 2000s tuner Civic, for the same reasons

While he included this picture, he advised to use a worse example, so I took the liberty to present you a historical picture.

I say historical because this picture was the definition of rice, the textbook example. If Wikipedia had a page for "rice (automotive)" it would feature this picture, probably second behind that blue early 90s Civic which in hindsight we were all wrong about and was actually sick.

Did you know this was made by a teenager out of metal? I'm digressing.

Friend of the blog (well, pillar of the blog at this point) @demoness-one agrees and suggests:

Honestly riced out clapped out honda civics did come to mind also But i feel like the car that most represents adhd is probably one that isn't finished lol Abstract concept of a car

But she wasn't the only one to vote for her own cars, as friend of the blog and Saturn SL1 owner @chevyventure posted a simple but effective contribution:

zero executive function between those eyes

Not as simple as friend of the blog @brick-enthusiast's, however, who just posted a Suzuki Cappuccino without comment.

In respect of that approach I will not comment either.

However, it's time to make my pick too, as in the process of writing this post I finally understood the assignment, and thus came up with something.

What's ADHD? As this blog demonstrates, sometimes it's being hyperfocused on something exciting, much to the detriment of things that actually matter in daily life. Sometimes it's said focus earning amazing results that seem disproportionate to one's means. Sometimes it's taking comfort in the routine, in deeply ingrained habits and tradition that still have to constantly be actively enforced as conscious choice. Sometimes it's being darty, shooting from point to point with speed other minds can't even keep up with. Sometimes it's having too much energy to contain. Sometimes it's... being loud? Oh really! I thought I was just being Italian!

And if you've read my 100th post, you'll know a car that fits that description to a T. (And if you haven't, click on here before reading on because you really want to.)

Indeed, what could be a better pick than a car that's stayed the same for nigh on seven decades in its devoted preservation of its ability to dart around like nothing else on the road, a car so perfromance-focused the comfort spec is the one that gets windows, a car not one bit less deafening than legally required? What could be a better pick than the Caterham Seven 620R, the literal world record holder for spinning around in circles?

And also just look at it.

If you're wondering about the number plate, it was made to celebrate its Lego version - yes indeed!

And if you can believe it, people still gifted me clothes for Christmas.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

#ford mustang #honda civic #suzuki cappuccino #caterham seven #demoness-one #chevyventure #jettacar #brick-enthusiast #lgbt cars #once again I will use the tag for something that cannot remotely be called a sexuality just because it kind of fits the theme of the series

[iwitch-plus]

Online grimoire/journal, page No. 1 (probably more than that but its been years. Let's call it page one).

Getting to know my tarot deck/reintroducing myself to the community.

(In this post I write briefly about not feeling like I'm in tune with my practice, or myself at all, and then I get into my interview with my "new" tarot deck. If you just want to see the interview, keep scrolling until you see "The Interview". I think a more journal-style grimoire is the direction my posts might go. I don't see a lot of people talking about their shortcomings in this community, or maybe I just don't follow the right people who do. I used to be super active in this community, 1k followers who actually kind of cared and interacted with me on tumblr and discord. I did online readings, made posts about spells I've done, things like that. Well this isn't going to be like that. This is for me. If you feel as though you're lacking/want to get back into your practice, I feel the same. You can come with me on this journey and follow, or you can just read this and go about your day, or you can scroll right past it without giving it a thought, anything you choose to do is ok! I might share personal things on this blog. Not super personal, they will all be related to witchcraft, but instead of giving other's advice I'm going to be writing down my practices, tarot card readings, and everything else as a reference for myself. If that type of journey interests you, I implore you to give a follow and come along. Maybe if I know people are interested in that style of blog, it might motivate me to do it more lol. Thanks.)

I don't really read tarot...In fact I don't even think I can call myself a practicing witch. I've been on and off for just a little under a decade. Sounds like a long time when I say it like that, and I know so many things but I'm also still beginning my journey. CONSTANTLY beginning the same journey over and over again, it feels like.

Anyways, I got a new tarot deck probably two or three years ago...I actually got 3 new decks at the same time, and I've really only sort of used one. I've felt bad about it for a while. They just sit there collecting dust. For some reason, I was feeling drawn to this deck in particular and decided to go ahead and try my hand at getting to know the deck. Needless to say, it was a very insightful "interview" if you can even call it that. I wrote small passages in my notebook, but I wanted to type here to get my thoughts out. This might be long, you don't have to read it, I'm sort of more doing it for me...as a journal entry type thing I guess, but also as a reference to my interview with the deck so I have a more detailed version of it than just what's in my notebook. I just didn't want to use up more notebook that I needed to.

Before The Interview

Deck: The Antique Anatomy Tarot Deck

Why I bought it: I was intrigued by the name and the art style. It's beige which I like, and I love bones and antique type things so I figured hey why not.

Why I was drawn to it today: Recently I've been thinking about things I can do to help better myself. Growth wise. It's more about me and less about coming back into my practice. I have a couple decks that I thought about but none of them seemed right. Until, DUH! Antique Anatomy. It's literally focusing on the self, and not just the outer self but LITERALLY the inner self as well. That seemed helpful.

I started by cleansing it with incense smoke. I didn't do anything in particular, just held it over an incense stick that was already burning and talked to it a little.

Then, I looked at the cards. Actually looked at them. Took mental note of the colors being used, what bones were on which card, what the labels on the elixir cards said, what flowers were used in the art (if I was able to identify them by eye), how many of each flower/certain things were on the cards. I looked at EVERYTHING.

And Now, The Good Stuff. (there are 6 questions, in each one I'll include the card pulled, the zodiac sign/element related to it, numbers such as the number of the card or how many of a specific thing were on the card, and colors used on the card. I'll include key words that relate to all of those things, and then lastly I'll include my interpretation for each one.)

The Interview

Please Introduce Yourself.

Death: Scorpio - 3 - 4 - 6 - Red - Black

Key words: Stability, fairness, solution, growth, regeneration, passion, love, power, pain, necessary, emotional.

My interpretation: When I flipped the card, I literally said "how did I know it was going to be death?". I was thinking it to myself as a joke, but then I flipped it and BOOM. Death. That's alright, though. Also I find it interesting the deck showed me a Scorpio card as an introduction. I'm a Virgo, and I love/hate Scorpios. They have taught me so much, some have damaged me, some have loved me endlessly, and currently I'm in a relationship with a Scorpio. Very prevalent sign in my life. I think by introducing itself with this card, it's telling me that it is an emotional and powerful deck. It sees itself as necessary, powerful, un-biased, but at the same time also very passionate, loving, and may even acknowledge that it might sometimes tell me things I don't want to hear. It also seems to be good at helping people explore their shadow, which is interesting because that's actually something I've been doing recently, witchcraft aside.

2. What are your strengths?

7 of Rods: Fire - 5 - 7 - Yellow - Orange

Key words: Evaluation, patience, conflict, perspective, determined, optimistic, growth, success, does not give up in the face of adversity, experienced warrior.

My interpretation: By showing me the 7 of rods in response to what the deck's strengths are, I think it's telling me that it's main strengths are focused around personal growth, which I guess makes sense. It's telling me that no matter how hard it gets, or how often or little I use it, it has the patience and determination to still help me through whatever I may need guidance on. That's very kind, thank you deck. It's also telling me that it knows and has seen a lot, which I don't doubt at all. By just sitting on my shelves, it has seen me through heartache, love, sickness, new jobs, new homes, depression, happiness, tears I've cried and why I've cried them, it has seen every part of me. It has perspective that maybe I don't, and it's optimistic that we can work together to better myself.

3. What are your limitations?

Strength: Leo - 6 - 8 - Red

Key words: Control, artistic expression, ego, anger, passion, values, understanding, calm demeanor, quiet resolve, understanding.

My interpretation: Okay this one was really interesting and sort of seems like the deck pulled a "my biggest weakness is that I'm too passionate about my work!" on me, but let's see if I can make some sense out of it. By showing me Strength in response to what the deck's limitations are, I believe it's trying to tell me that it does find itself a little big-headed or mainstream in a sense. Just looking at the key word "artistic expression" makes me think it's telling me to try to look further than just the colors and numbers on the cards, because maybe what the artist is trying to express isn't precisely going to align with what I need to hear, but the deck can't express that? Some other limitations it may be trying to express is that it's not going to be quiet about things. Besides maybe sometimes having to dig past the art for guidance, it's not going to sugarcoat or hold my hand. As much as it will support and have patience for me, that doesn't mean it's going to baby me. I appreciate that.

4. What can I learn from you?

Page of Coins: Earth - 6 - Blue - Purple

Key words: Fairness, values, orderly, determined, calm, peace, grief, sadness, prophecy, dreams, high power, studious, diligent, introvert, misses out on lighthearted aspects of life, buckle down, study, money, creativity.

My interpretation: I think by showing me the page of coins in response to what I can learn from the deck, it's telling me that I can learn how to be more in tune with myself, emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually. It's telling me that I can learn to dig into myself (and perhaps my shadow?) to find out more about myself. It's telling me it can show me how to interpret my dreams better, it can help me stay more focused, and potentially even help me connect with a something higher than myself again. All of this seems essential for my own personal growth, and if I can learn that from this deck then I would love to work more with it.

5. What is the best way to work with you?

2 of Coins: Earth - 2 - Yellow - Purple

Key words: Balance, duality, opposing forces, orderly, determined, optimism, growth, prophecy, dreams, higher power, harmony, over-indulgence, stagnant, creative solutions.

My interpretation: By showing me the 2 of coins in response to the best way to work with the deck, I think it's telling me a couple ways, both deck and user focused. One thing it's telling me is that it might work better with a higher power also helping? I don't exactly have one I guess...I love Aphrodite and have had altars for her in the past, and still consider her my patron Goddess but it's been so long. I'd have to rekindle that relationship and I don't know if I'm ready for that right now. It also seems to be telling me that it can work better by helping interpret my dreams, too? I've never considered using a tarot deck as a dream interpreter, but I do get prophetic dreams in a sense and I take my dreams very seriously, so maybe that's something to consider. I think it's also telling me that the best way to work with it is to stop over indulging myself in things that aren't good for my mental or physical health, which makes sense. How can one effectively get guidance when they aren't in the right state of mind or physical well-being? All in all, I think that the most important thing it's trying to tell me is that no matter what I may or may not do, we can work well together if I stay optimistic and determined to grow. If I ever stop having the motivation to better myself, then it doesn't think it can do much for me.

6. What is the outcome of our relationship?

Knight of Elixirs: Water - 4 - Purple

Key words: Stability, foundation, nurturing, caring, mystery, prophecy, dreams, high power, luxury, expansion, growth, loving, appreciate beautiful things, affectionate disposition, finding ideal partner.

My interpretation: By showing me this card in response to the outcome of our relationship, I think it's telling me that I'll be able to have a little bit more routine and stability in my everyday life. I think it's also telling me I'll be able to connect with my subconscious mind more, as well as my softer emotions such as nurturing, caring, and loving. It can help me appreciate smaller things in life instead of always looking at the bigger picture. By "finding the ideal partner" I think the deck means that it can help me find things in everyday life that will help with my personal growth. Ideal things to interact with and love besides literally the people and animals I love.

Very insightful. If you got through this whole thing, thanks for reading. I'm going to post a bit more frequently and hopefully that will actually help me gain the motivation to do this stuff more than just once every 6 months. I think it's essential for my personal growth, and for some reason I'm really obsessed with that right now but I lack the time and motivation. I don't actually lack time, but things are hard when you wake up late and you feel like every day is sleep, work, maybe eat, sleep, repeat. Here's to hoping this is the beginning of a new chapter for me.

#witchcraft #witch #witchblr #tarot #tarot cards #wicca #green witch #kitchen witch #electic witch #witchy #witches #baby witch #beginner witch #tarot spreads #tarot reading #divination #tarot deck #witch community #witches of tumblr #witchlife #spoonie witches #aphrodite #hellenic #pagan witch #pagan #paganism #witchcraft 101 #tarot community #growth #personal growth

[pinkomcranger]

Previous anon, thank you so much for your voice about Saga and her space in the fandom. Your reply was amazing. I honestly can't even add to it, you said so much and hit it right on the head in every regard. I think you made a valid point too, there are fans who don't create but want to see her represented in the fandom space too. I didn't think of it like that. I'll focus on that and for the future share Saga and Andercase content not just because of that but love em so much too. I say this as someone who loves all the chararcters and multiple ships outside of her but I treasure her and the ship so much so makes little sense not to show that. My stuff isn't quality but still can share lol I should back up my words and show it with content. Also, thank you for inviting me to talk in your inbox about anything with Saga/Andercase. I'll be sure to when ideas strike and hope it can encourage others too! Would love to see the fan base show her love like every other chararcter gets. Not completely unrelated but would love if people cared about Mr. Door too. There was a ship fic with him and Alan but it's lost now and like Saga he's often on the back burner despite how interesting he is too (insanely interesting tbh). Besides, I'm sure the actors and would be just as appreciative as thr others have been to already loved chararcters.

You're very welcome! I still have many thoughts regarding Saga and her place in fandom, I might create a part 2 at some point. When I finally entered this fandom, I fully thought there would be so much dedicated to Saga, because here we had such a beautifully written and portrayed character, that it felt like a no-brainer. To see that wasn't true, to see her glossed over for characters like Casey and Zane bothered me on every level.

It's one of the reasons I came out of my near-decade hiatus, if I didn't see what I wanted, and I could create at least a little, then I was going to do that. I was extremely hesitant, mostly because I was late to the game (hah, Saga would like that pun), I didn't dip my toes in until last December. I wanted the fandom to see that Saga was still appreciated, she was still seen, it wasn't just Casey/Alan/Zane.

To see you're willing to throw your hat back in the ring pleases me beyond words, but I'll try to find them regardless. First and foremost, please don't think whatever you create is less than when that couldn't be further from the truth. I know a lot of us content creators tend to hold ourselves up to others, if we don't get as many likes/reblogs/kudos/comments as other's ships or favored characters, that MUST mean we're not good enough, right? It's hard to believe, and something I still struggle with, but it's not true.

There's various reasons why it seems our content might seem to be skipped over. Maybe the idea doesn't hit right for some people, maybe they can't connect, maybe they don't relate, or maybe it's just not their fav character/ship. That's certainly their right as fans.

Secondly, at the end of the day, sometimes you just have to create what you want to see. It can be annoying, to wonder why you have to create something that should be so obvious to everyone else. But that's the thing about fandom, sometimes you just have to show you're here to stay.

I guarantee you there will be others who love your content, even if you don't think it's that great. I had to be reminded of that myself, by two great friends and basically pioneers of writing for Saga and Andercase (@wondrouswendy and @hearts-are-connected ). I know they're some of the great ones, and they'll always cheer me on, and I know they'll extend the same courtesy to you.

Man, Warlin Door is a whole different topic for me! He's EXTREMELY interesting, well-written, and portrayed. To see him ignored even more than Saga sucks, another character I thought would get love. I would love for the actors to see that they're seen and heard as much as Ilkka and Sam are. They deserve nothing less.

I very much look forward to seeing your content! You have a very eager fan here.

#alan wake 2 #saga anderson #warlin door #mr. door #my thoughts #writing #ask #cheering on other content creators #strong black characters #the insecurity can be very strong #the best thing we can do is keep rooting for each other #Saga is loved and seen

[antianakin]

Question for your Caretaker Luke AU, since you've said that you think Anakin would need a Jedi Master, rather than someone like Luke, to help him actually face and leave the Dark Side...

How much would change or how do you think things would go if Obi-Wan was the Jedi Master there to help Luke manage Anakin instead of Quinlan? (We're going with the "he survives ANH" version of this, since you also said you hate Force Ghosts in that post)

Do you think Obi-Wan would be better suited for it, since he does have more of a past connection to him, or do you think that Anakin would just double down on his "I'm Not Facing Jack Shit, Leave Me Alone, Screw You" nonsense, just because it's Obi-Wan?

And how do you think this would affect the new Jedi Order? Do you think Obi-Wan would even want to deal with Anakin at all, after everything, or would he instead prefer to help rebuild the Order and trust that Luke can handle the responsibility on his own?

I think that if Obi-Wan is around that it turns the Caretaker Luke AU into a Caretaker Obi-Wan AU lol. Because Luke is young, he's the hope for the future, Obi-Wan is NEVER going to let Luke just waste away years of his life sitting in isolation watching over Anakin when Obi-Wan can do the job just as well and free up Luke to help Leia rebuild the Republic and the Jedi. Luke would VISIT obviously, but he would not end up Anakin's primary warden/caretaker in this case. Obi-Wan is also going to see Anakin as his responsibility, not necessarily even primarily due to their relationship, but because for all intents and purposes, Anakin is still a Sith and that's still Obi-Wan's responsibility as a Jedi to handle. And this particular Sith is one that Obi-Wan has history with and knows he can handle and contain. The two of them are, in many ways, bound by fate. And, of course, some part of Obi-Wan will always love Anakin, and want to help him if he can. He gave up on the possibility of ever truly reaching Anakin or saving him, but now, the possibility is THERE, for the first time in decades. I don't think he'd ever throw that away or walk away from it, no matter how painful the journey might be.

I actually think Obi-Wan would probably be one of the best people to get through to Anakin, to resume the role of a teacher to him and guide him away from darkness. Specifically because yes, he DOES have that history with Anakin that means he knows exactly what buttons of Anakin's to push and, unlike people like Ahsoka or Padme, Obi-Wan is not attached to Anakin. He is capable of walking away if he has to and being firm about Anakin's choices, but for as long as Anakin has even the slightest hint of willingness to try to do better, Obi-Wan will be there.

Obi-Wan's also come to a lot of peace by ANH, he's not super ruffled by shit anymore, up to and including weird old former Sith with stupid grudges against him. I think he could face Anakin with relative equanimity despite all of the pain and difficulty it's going to cause. Anakin's going to WANT to get a rise out of him and so the worst and best thing Obi-Wan can do in response is to literally just not react (which does not mean he won't have a snarky comeback, just that he won't get ANGRY back). The more Anakin rages and throws temper tantrums at Obi-Wan without driving Obi-Wan to leave or rage back, the more it probably just... starts to drain out of him a little. What's the point in raging if Obi-Wan doesn't rage back?

I think the dynamic between Obi-Wan and Anakin would be very different than with Quinlan and Anakin, obviously. Quinlan would need to work through all of his own shit about Anakin's betrayal at the same time as he's helping Anakin, while Obi-Wan's already done all of that and let it go years earlier. Quinlan's going to probably be a LOT less nice about how he handles the situation than Obi-Wan would. Obi-Wan's going to be very firm about it and not let Anakin get to him, but Obi-Wan also loves him and isn't going to lash out at Anakin. I think Quinlan is going to have zero compunctions about reminding Anakin of just how much pain he's caused sometimes, he's not necessarily going to hand out praise when Anakin does something right. He doesn't love Anakin. He learns to have compassion for Anakin, but he does not love him personally in the way that Luke and Obi-Wan do. What love he may have had for Anakin as a friend died when Anakin betrayed them all and it's not coming back.

So yeah, I think Obi-Wan surviving ANH would provide a much cleaner and softer version of this AU actually. Granted I also think there'd be a lot of OTHER changes to canon if Obi-Wan survived that might cause some ripples, but if we're assuming all goes mostly the same as it does in canon aside from Anakin's death, then Obi-Wan being around afterward is probably the best thing that could possibly happen to him.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #caretaker luke au

[woundlingus]

Okay, Unfinished Business 13x20 THEE Gabriel master thesis of episodes for his characterisation tells me one very important fact about him, and that’s that he is an unreliable narrator.

This is perhaps not even his fault, years and years of suffering the worst kind of abuse it’s hard to think clearly about much at all, let alone the intricacies of what happened to put you where you are and trying to understand other perspectives. It’s hard when you’ve spent a near decade (or undisclosed amount of time being shifted between Earth and Hell) with only the worst kind of torture at the forefront of your mind.

Or maybe, he does know. He is the trickster in every way that matters regardless of if he’s the original Loki or not. I’d find it pretty hard to believe that the trickster who haunts Sam Winchester’s nightmares would be unaware of the irony of his situation and the symbolism of his own torture, I imagine that makes the punishment all the more humiliating and bitter. Gabriel is also a show boat. A peacock. He’s always paraded himself around as tough and unknowable, he’s also a known liar and both of those traits work together to create a very convincing story in whatever episodes story it is he wants to tell. But he is a liar.

What sounds better? Gabriel ran away to hide under the skirt of his pagan friends?

Or, Gabriel was living a luxurious life where he was pampered and beloved;

(That’s right, the pornstars obviously)

That these so called friends wined and dined him, fed him his fill, and then when he was at his most vulnerable after they’d made well sure he felt comfortable enough to let his guard down- THEN, and only then, did they strike out against him. He could have never seen it coming. The ultimate betrayal.

Gabriel can’t keep his story straight the whole episode. He opens with a bold faced lie (can you spot the resemblance to any other lies so far?)

He knows this looks bad. He’s already so fragile, and he knows the Winchesters want him for his grace so I can’t imagine him knocking on their door for help was a decision he came to easily. So these two men who are bigger than him, stronger than him, and have a bone to pick with him, bring him into their motel room while he’s bleeding his guts out and can barely stand. He peacocks. I’m fine, “you should see the other guy”, wink wink. God forbid they know he’s weak, god forbid they think he’s any more pathetic than they already do.

He’s guarding his very fragile ego right now, frankly, it’s the only thing he has left.

I don’t doubt for a moment that Loki’s POV is any less clouded by his own personal prejudices and ego, they’re very much the same after all. Loki was in that cave, Gabriel did rescue him.

These are facts. That doesn’t change that Loki freed Gabriel from a cave of his own and saved him from his family as well.

They are equals in this fact. But neither willing to admit to it. Loki I understand, he’s given very little time to plead his case and so he gets right to the point. I saved Gabriel’s life, he killed my father.

Gabriel however, has plenty of time to explain himself and wastes it spinning a story in which he can both simultaneously look cool and still find himself to be the ultimate victim in. He wastes time keeping the Winchesters in the dark and it could have cost them their lives when they ran in after Gabriel without the whole story. Lucky for them, no one here cares about the Winchesters lol Loki is as occupied with Gabriel and he is with Loki. But they could’ve been hurt!

I’m not saying Gabriel doesn’t deserve catharsis, that he shouldn’t get to kill Loki and his children. I don’t need to, Gabriel does-

Maybe that was the tricksters best trick so far, that Gabriel managed to warp his own memories and perception of what happened to fuel his own survival, and now that he’s out and the world is real again he can’t make himself let go of what he had to tell himself. That Loki was unnecessarily cruel. That Loki snapped out of nowhere. That his closest confidant sold him out for money of all things. He can’t let himself remember it was more complex than that, he tells himself he needs this, because if he doesn’t he’ll have to admit that under all this peacocking and lying he is that weak and broken and scared. If Gabriel has to sit down with the reality that he’s never going to be that cool and sexy guy who gets everyone he wants and couldn’t care less, he’d probably want to kill himself (which is what really starts to get him down in the following episodes because guess what, killing Loki didn’t fix anything he’s still broken, :( always will be)

I think he believes if he can lie hard enough, this fabrication could be real. It can be real to him at least, so he doesn’t have to face the humiliation of either admitting to his own stupid naïveté and he didn’t see the obvious coming, or that he knowing and wilfully begged Loki for a place by his side and got throw down hard for his cowardice. But it’s not like there’s anyone left to contest his story now.

#this is so ramble-y I’m so sorry 😭 this probably doesn’t make a lick of sense but it’s plaguing me #gabriel spn #supernatural #spn #supernatural s13 #supernatural 13x20

[bluebudgie]

So... what's up with these two?

(I love recycling old pictures.png)

You may or may not have seen me draw these rats repeatedly and you may or may not care what's up with them.

Well, in case you do... buckle up, we'll be here for a while.

Just in case: very vague ableism mention. I'm cutting down on pretty much all details, but just so you know the general topic comes up at some point. Don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.

Unrelated disclaimer: words are difficult.

It's probably smart to start with a general character introduction so you get an idea of who you're dealing with.

So, Petthri.

(Shared most of this stuff about him before, now it's gathered in one place at least.)

The outgoing guy, grew up in a supportive family, always been the popular kid among peers, and later a pretty popular professor with his students (less so with some other colleagues, but hey). Very passionate about animal bioacoustics. Very hands-on when it comes to research and teaching. Infodumps a lot.

He's got his heart in the right place, but he's obviously not flawless. Has his thoughts constantly drifting in twelve different directions at once, can definitely not read the room, and has absolutely said and done things that hurt others just because he didn't think (and probably never realized). Likely to nervously laugh his way through most dangerous situations, but does manage to pull himself together and get things done if things turn really bad.

He got – at some point (precise date TBA, sometime around PoF events) – kidnapped by the Inquest because they wanted some of his research but didn't manage to sort through his mess. So they just took the entire man to the CoE and decided to keep him. Niche knowledge could always be useful after all. They were even kind enough to gift him an additional facial scar during the welcome interrogation! (The other one was a field trip accident). True hospitality.

Not sure if it's incredible optimism or naivety, but he's generally been doing alright during this whole prisoner situation. He's not locked up, they let him work on things he actually cares about (albeit not for the right cause), and overall he's had enough hope to believe he'll get out of there one day. Make the best out of the present, it'll be fine somehow.

I'm sure if you were to dig deep enough he'd find out he's actually less alright than he thinks he is. Oh well.

Let's talk about the other guy. Lahpp.

Me. I created you. (I've said barely anything about this man on here so far bc while I could fill the 20k essay with him alone, writing about him intimidates me lol. Also in case you're ever asking yourself this, no I did not realize his name sounds like 'lab' until weeks after I created him. Unfortunate coincidence. So, anyway...)

Obedient Inquest scientist, questions but doesn't oppose orders, has been doing the same work for the better part of the last two decades. Day in, day out, getting up early and staying up late. Somewhere in the middle of the pyramid scheme, he's definitely got a bunch of heads above him but he's nowhere near the bottom end of the chain. Got his own little lab space. Enjoys music theory in the little free time he allocates. Assertive, lets people know when not to bother him, but very polite nonetheless. Has mastered the art of superficial small talk. The guy who holds open doors and pulls your chair back for you with an acted but convincing smile. Truly employee of the month material.

He's never known anything but this perfectly ordered working drone life so he's fairly content with his current position.

....

Yeeaah you guessed there's more below the surface.

So this man's life started with being the subject of a failed genetic dragon magic experiment, first one in a handful of infants that actually lived, but ultimately he got nothing out of it but a fair share of various health conditions and disabilities. The initial project was dropped after a few years of surveillance with no results, and instead he got handed over to one of the medical departments so they could "at least make use of him" and test some cutting-edge medical tech. No wasting ressources, am I right? (:

Fastforward some years, a miserable childhood full of abuse and ableism (and by extension just as much of it internalized) essentially left him with the obsession of wanting to fit in with everyone else, wanting to be like everyone else, never having anyone find out anything about his conditions and his past. Worked his ass off in college so it wouldn't be apparent he struggled when others didn't. Created a work environment for himself that he knew would be accommodating to him while not raising any possible questions.

He's been doing fine for some time now; while he definitely hasn't gotten rid of his insecurities he has somewhat accepted that he just... is who he is. Some days are worse and some days are better. His brain has done a very thorough job suppressing pretty much all his early childhood memories. He has also convinced himself that being a perfectly exploitable asset to the corporation that abused him for years is definitely the right way to stick it to the system. They said he'd never be useful for anything and die an early death? Ha, showed 'em! (I am saying this with a lot of sarcasm. He is genuine.)

He's definitely a product of the environment he grew up in, which is a shame because if he hadn't been indoctrinated by the Inquest since birth he would have probably turned out a pretty decent person. He doesn't have the absolute worst inner moral compass. Alas, as it is he has contributed to [some fucked up things] and has [some fucked up views]. And he's not about to change that.

So... at what point do the stories of these two actually connect?

Petthri and Lahpp first met within a larger group of mostly scientists from mixed divisions that were sent on a trip to Rata Primus.

I won't go into the full details of The Rata Primus Odyssey now because that is a whole different story arc involving a total of six of my characters, but the relevant information is that they arrived in the wrong place at the wrong time (A Bug In The System says hello!), and got trapped in the main complex together (alongside Phlish and my charr engineer Leto) when Awakened shit hit the fan.

In short, the following escape mission lasted way too long, and made for an incredibly exhausting 0/10 experience for everyone involved. Cooperation between our two relevant asura actually went surprisingly smooth for the most part, at least way better than with the rest of the small group.

(Bringing that old edit back. Two criminals actually getting shit done in the back while the others are about to snap each other's head off.)

I did once offhandedly mention that Lahpp held Petthri at gunpoint exactly one time – that was here. He was not going to risk getting onto HQ's watch list for letting a prisoner slip away while he's even remotely involved.

Ultimately exhaustion and having no access to important medication for a prolonged amount of time got the better end of Lahpp, and while the other two would have probably just left the "dead weight" behind, Petthri made sure he made it out with them. Not a great time for the little Inquest criminal, both physically and mentally given his inclination for secrecy regarding certain topics.

A few days after they returned to the CoE Petthri checked up on Lahpp to make sure he's recovering, but afterwards... radio silence from both sides for the next few years.

–

Fastforward, it's now Cantha time!

If Lahpp had a piece of gold for everytime HQ sent him away on a "business trip" that'll end up nearly killing him, and likewise Petthri had one for everytime he'd be witness to that, they'd both have... two pieces of gold, which isn't much, but it's still weird it happened twice.

Once again as part of a larger group, our criminals find themselves in New Kaineng City. And because I am a mere human being that is not above resorting to overused tropes, they do of course end up having to share the same room for the time of their stay. I never claimed to be a mastermind storywriter.

At least this time the trip starts out fairly unspectacular, with mostly guided group tours through the city and its labs. Lahpp is not feeling too great (understatement) during all of this for reasons he can't quite grasp, but he's got a really bad gut feeling. Petthri actually notices he's lingering a lot and falling behind, so he suggests they split off from the rest of the group and go back to their room early. Get some rest, the journey to Cantha was long after all.

The next days are pretty calm, the Inquest is snooping around while our two heroes actually have some time to talk and get to know each other a little more. Petthri finally gets to tell someone his whole 'and this is how I was kidnapped!' story. Petthri's questions are getting a little too personal for Lahpp's taste, but overall they get along alright. It's almost like two people that have been way too lonely for several years are actually finding a bit of comfort for a moment. (Side note: Petthri warms up to people very quickly, and he might be (without realizing it) getting a little too comfortable with the idea of having found someone "redeemable".)

Now wouldn't it be great if a nearby reactor blew up and an elder dragon escaped?

The event itself isn't really affecting them (yet) but I do think Lahpp must be questioning the Eternal Alchemy at this point. Thaumanova. Multiple near-meltdowns in the Crucible. Rata Primus. Now this. Seriously, at some point it's just ridiculous.

With each new information surfacing, the "bad gut feeling" is slowly but surely turning into mild but continuous panic. Something is off and it clearly has something to do with dragons. Now, Lahpp never really cared about the whole elder dragon business. Whatever sort of magic experiment he was used for, it's the outcome that affected his life, not the source of it. Still, the thoughts are starting to occupy his mind more than he'd like to admit. Petthri is entirely unaware of any of this.

Oh wait – what's this? A new unknown form of raw magic rapidly spreading and threatening to destroy Tyria? Obviously this is something to be investigated, so the larger group coordinates an excursion to Dragon's End. And obviously they end up getting into the battle for the jade sea.

I guess at this point you see where my art is coming from.

Petthri and Lahpp never get to fight Soo-Won herself (no canon meta participation alas), but they are busy enough fending off Void creatures on ground level anyway. It's unclear (to me) if or how much the Void actually affects Lahpp on a physical level, but regardless he is not having the best time being confronted with something that is so unknown to him and yet so closely connected to his very being.

Some resurfacing traumatic memories combined with a not-so-pretty panic attack (and the physical stress of fighting) later, it's poor Petthri's task to once again take a blacked out criminal to safety. Meanwhile he's got absolutely no idea what is going on, but he's definitely going to demand some explanations.

For some days after this Petthri's playing bedside vigil in a New Kaineng medical facility. The two have a lot of time to talk. Personal topics. Uncomfortable topics. Lahpp does tell Petthri to go back to Rata Sum, he's beyond caring at this point. Quite frankly he thinks HQ won't care either. Petthri refuses to leave just like that. Asks Lahpp to come with him, he'll be better off away from the Inquest. Obviously Lahpp is not having any of it, he's very well aware the Inquest is as corrupt as it gets, but so is Rata Sum. That's just how the world functions. The Inquest has the meds and tech he needs to survive. He's not leaving. And he certainly doesn't need anyone acting self-sacrificial out of pity. It's degrading.

He tells Petthri to sleep on it and make up his mind the next day.

–

Aaand that is pretty much where the somewhat coherently planned part of my current rat-timeline ends. A glimpse into vague concepts for the future:

Enter a third character to the roster! It's Luqqah, Inquest medic-turned-biochemist. She happened to be in Cantha for a while now, doing her own research. She gets involved treating the injured after the whole Void mess. Naturally she ends up finding Petthri and Lahpp. Lucky for the latter, because she obviously has better knowledge dealing with asura than any of the human medics. And... in fact... she has pretty detailed knowledge about what's up with Lahpp specifically. Dealt with his medical papers in the past. Oh, also... they're exes. Don't worry, parted on good terms. Haven't seen each other since shortly after the Thaumanova meltdown. What a reunion.

So... yeah. It's gonna be trio time from now on. I don't know yet for how long the three of them stay in Cantha, or if they're going to get involved with the whole Gyala Delve storyline (or whatever comes out of it). Lahpp's not doing great, he'll need a while recovering. If he ever fully recovers. Petthri has a few of his own inner demons to fight. Time will tell.

As a conclusion... Petthri's saviour complex sets him on a good path towards a corruption arc while Lahpp's as close to a redemption arc as he'll get. They're both questioning their life and views a lot. Spoiler from the Omniscient Narrator: Both of them will be back in the Crucible. But with more thoughts to think than before. And more time to spend together.

And that's what's currently up with the rats.

#godspeed to all of you. #if you actually made it to the end: you have my eternal gratitude these rats mean a lot to me and this ultimate infodump was difficult #there is so much more to each of them separately and to some of the things i'm mentioning kinda briefly. some things i didnt mention at all #but this should cover at least a good chunk of what is relevant to both of them together #i wish i could just transfer all my thoughts to you telepathically but alas assorted words and images will have to do #budgie plays gw2

[silvercap]

!!!! THIS. YOUR TAGS! i mean chreon is lovely i am in no way trying to diminish chreon or anything but like it's diFFERENT

chreon is two tired people who have been beaten down by life offering each other support and understanding from the shared LONG life of struggling forward. they've been in this for equally long now, they know how soul destroying it can be to keep fighting and keep fighting although a new threat alwaysalwaysalways pops up anyway. they'd understand each other on a deep level. but they've both got their scars. i think they'd both be the 'hard to love' one tbh. in different ways, bc of their different personalities, but i digress.

nivannedy has a different dynamic because Piers (albeit having suffered a LOT) just hasn't had that two decades of being worn down and he's got a fresh sort of drive, fire, and determination. and he'd blow through Leon's walls like a wrecking ball. because he loves him. like it's breathing. like it's what he's meant to do. and they'd both be better for it. i think Piers is more in touch with emotions than the two old emotionally constipated men :'D

excuse me i'm sick and just woke up and incoherent :'D that's my excuse for this rambling lol.

No, you're so right!! I agree, Piers has a freshness that neither Leon or Chris can quite match, and I've talked about it before that Piers is the only one of them who actually chose his life for himself. Chris obviously had agency in designing the BSAA, but it was out of a sense of obligation to be the hero and stop Wesker and prevent RC from ever happening again. Leon is, well, Leon, and nothing he's ever done has been voluntary, but Piers? He wanted to join the BSAA and the fight against bioterrorism without having been traumatized by it first, and he went into it knowing the risks. That + his youth makes him much less susceptible to the weariness Chris and Leon seem to experience so often, and he's not the same sort of tragic hero character!

Obviously, I, personally, love Chreon a lot, but there's definitely a lot of similarities between the two of them that make it a little bit dysfunctional and there's plenty of room for angst. And, like you said, they're in it for mutual support and they understand each other too well sometimes! Nivannedy just works, no strings attached :'). I completely agree that Piers has the advantage of emotional intelligence 😭 he's just soo much better at it.

Ghhhhhhhgh there's just something about THEM that makes me go a little insane. All of my au's are Nivannedy and they're slowly starting to invade my brain a little bit ahaha. Thanks for rambling!! Love hearing your take on them :)

#nivannedy #resident evil

[bitty-bits]

The First and the Last of the Year

And possibly last ever... on Tumblr at least.

Where did I go?

Nowhere in particular... if you've seen my socials all year, that is. This blog/newsletter however, took an extended vacation, not just from a lack of interest (and personal real life stuff getting in the way) but also from a technical standpoint - I really wanted the email newsletter aspect of this to work, but I still couldn't. I was considering using TinyLetter ...until they announced that was shutting down. If I had a nickel for every time a newsletter service shut down out of nowhere I'd have two... you know the rest. And with Tumblr getting worse as the year went by, maintaining this wasn't exactly motivating enough.

That said, it was a less than ideal year for my productivity, inconsistent pace, money issues, the lowest amount of notable dreams to write down on my dream journal to date... you get the idea.

So I can only hope for things to be better. For me to be less lazy... and work not only on stuff I make, but on myself. And I do have a bit of optimism, since a lot has, so let's see a couple of stuff, although everything else you should expect to see in a "rebooted" version of this blog...

Also, Free Palestine!

What I've Been Playing / Watching

So while I haven't fully completed a LOT of things this year, this will be going back to the beginning of the year, essentially, so strap yourselves. (Some of it I'll be grabbing from my media thread that I've made on Twitter as well)

Lucky Star (Finished)

I have posted about Lucky Star in another issue, but I was still in the middle of watching it. Now that I've actually finished watching it (in February) I can say more about it: When it comes to this anime, it was either pretty ahead of its time, or we just have Regressed as a species since then. Maybe the latter.

And sorry folkz, Lucky Star is pro-ship/pro-fic culture and there’s nothing you can do about it. I watched the entire series including the OVA, and while I’m definitely still not sure I’m exactly the "target demographic" what I saw was still very enjoyable. it really just is whatever the fuck and I'm all for it.

At first my kin™ was Konata pretty quickly because of course. That was until Minami showed up and like, she’s basically the weeb version of Ongo Jelly Jamm™!!! I actually can say I got attached to and care about most of the characters, even if just a little.

Like I said in a previous issue, in 2015 I had watched part of an episode of it english dubbed and it didn’t click with me at all. Turns out the dub just sucks as I should’ve expected lol (And I really wasn’t used to segmented "several short stories in one" type anime and stuff to be fair - that and I was dumber too of course so I couldnt properly appreciate the ART........)

My rating is Timotei/10 - and Nichijou is next!

Pizza Tower

Easily the biggest loss for gaming this year was this game not winning "Best Debut Indie" at the Game Awards. Oh well.

I was already highly anticipating this game - having first heard of it when it had a demo at SAGE 2019 I’m glad the game turned out great and is getting the recognition it deserves. I pretty much finished the game in early March. P/10

The Owl House (Finished)

Well... it’s over... for better or worse. I do think they managed to deliver a satisfactory ending all things considered. This was definitely a great cartoon to kick off the new decade.

And of course, fuck Disney as always.

This show got me to break out of, I guess an habit, you could say, or a superstition, or whatever the hell it is, when it came to media with too much ""occultism"" in them. You know the drill. I guess it opened up the little my mind had left that was still a bit closed. Even if it’s mostly involuntary.

But this isn’t even new. As a child I’d actually have an "imaginary friend" that i made (that kinda just Existed, didn’t really "interact" much with them whatsoever cuz i was Dumb™) that their backstory was literally that they were a demon in hell "gone rogue" so they were "not an evil one". Again, I was a kid. I never thought too much about the implications of me thinking about stuff like that already at that age. But it is interesting to think about now.

Anyways, been gay, did witchcraft. ⛥/5

Invader ZIM (Series + Enter The Florpus)

Well I did it. I finally watched the funny hot topic show™ (Finished in late May)

What can I even say about it that hasn’t been already said by everyone else? ...well maybe I have one thing: for some reason I didn’t find That One Episode that people always bring up the MOST disturbing one. I thought the one with a literal character flatlining and Zim being ":)" about it got to me a bit more.

Anyways yeah it’s Cool I liked the characters especially Gaz, and GIR obviously Why Wouldn’t He Be Here. The show can be stupid and end episodes in Whatever The Fuck ways that leave you like "That's it? That's the episode???" but I think that’s one of the unique aspects of it that I Enjoy - also the movie is cool. ☮️>🐔+🍚/10

The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)

So I watched it first when we only had shitty cinema bootleg recordings (that aren’t even that shitty anymore at this point in terms of quality, the Shit comes in the form of godawful intrusive illegal casino ads™ placed.) even though a bit later the raw movie would sometimes be uploaded in full to YouTube with no consequence for days. And at this point I’ve rewatched it plenty of times in proper HD (though only once in English cuz I’ll be honest, the Brazilian dub really is phenomenal really and blows the original "star talent cast" out of the water in my opinion, where it falls short is the voice for Luigi, as I know the dude’s voice too well and he’s just doing his normal voice with an accent, not to mention he’s the brazilian Sonic voice already!!!)

I think Charlie Day is the superior Loogy here but I’d still say the dub is better, not only for the fact there are "real voice actors" cuz you know, that’s Their Job, but also like, Charles Martinet is still in there cuz in case you didn't know, he voiced that jumpman dude’s only line in pretty much every language possible which is absurd/admirable.

It’s a fun movie if not mostly for looking at Mario Things happening that you know and recognize, because otherwise the story is pretty ridiculously basic, though even for "Mario game story" standards it’s definitely refreshing to see Luigi as the one to be rescued... though that Also sucks because Luigi deserved more screentime. The main Toad too. Oh well. Also disappointed that the "wise Toad" in the movie isn’t Toadsworth… or maybe he is but hasn’t aged yet and maybe in a sequel we’ll see him get older and then main Toad becomes Captain Toad. Who knows 🍄/10

Honorable Mentions - Stuff I've Watched That I've Yet To Write My Thoughts About, I Don't Have The Time Now

Spy × Family (Season 1) - Not the type of anime I'd see myself watching, but I was forced roped into it by one of my partners and found it to be VERY enjoyable.

Sparkle On, Raven: The Life of Drillgirl - Charming, shitpost-y, but genuine and fun

The Amazing Digital Circus - A very promising series with unexpected popularity, and equally unexpected high quality Brazilian dub with recognizable talent.

Murder Drones (Season 1 - 6/8) - A series I've been cautiously optimistic about since its pilot - it has endearing, enjoyable characters and settings, but flawed writing and pacing - more on that at a future date.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off - An amazing take on a series that I'm not so familiar with (haven't seen the movie or read the comics, only really knew that the franchise "exists") and judging from what I've heard from others, it probably is the best take on the main storyline. Especially when it comes to the representation of who turned out to be my fave - Roxie. Watching the live action now is... probably gonna be very weird. Not sure if I want to.

Kunshikter (Күншіктер) - A new, yet very obscure cartoon from Kazakhstan. It's cute. It's for children but at this point I don't think y'all care. It's still ongoing and there are not many episodes so far. I recommend giving it a watch. Now!

Future YouTube Updates

As some of you saw in a xeet tweet from early October I was planning to do something significant on my main YouTube channel which has been stagnant for a while now, only for that to, surprise, not happen. I do have a set goal now: In very early January, a video to explain exactly what happened and what was the video I wanted to make, and... why it's hard for me to get a video like that out in the first place. The short answer (that doesn't actually account for Everything) is autism. The long answer is... stay tuned for it, lol

Song of the Issue

Although this section was supposed to be for sharing music that isn't mine, I thought I'd share snippets of music stuff I've been making since the beginning of 2023 until now, that you can look forward to!

Conclusion

I dunno. All I can say is... happy new year! It's been a tradition to make a stupid amateurish collage at the end of the year with the highlights, but this year there's been... less of them, that I took note of at least. But that won't stop me I think. Once I have that done, I may edit this to include it.

No comment on anything related to Twitter (which I'll never call "X") and the billionaire that happened this year as you all probably already know by now, and by the way you can now follow me on the social butterfly of bluesky. See you next year!

#newsletter #personal #Youtube

[genevievemd]

Your Midnights

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Word Count: 1996 Rating: G Category: fluff, Ethan POV Trope(s):

Summary: Two New Years, four years apart. 

Warnings: none

A/N: No, I will never stop naming fics after Taylor Swift lyrics. I am who I am, besties lol Enjoy the fluff. 

Also another entry for @choicesficwriterscreations​ Holiday Event!

December 31, 2018

Dr. Ethan Ramsey hated most, if not all, holidays. The pomp and circumstance, the commercialism, the fakes niceties, none of it appealed to him. 

And New Years Eve was no different. In fact, it may be the one he has the greatest disdain for. Simply for the existence of New Years resolutions. 

They were completely pointless, most forgotten by February and if not, came with disappointment when the year ends and expectations were not met. 

He’d given up the silly tradition decades ago and hasn’t even celebrated the holiday since his med school days. Now, Ethan does what he has for every other holiday…

He works. 

And this year, with his mentor and dearest friend fighting for his life in a hidden corner of the hospital, Ethan had even less desire to party and celebrate. 

Though, it seems the interns are still planning to. Their laughter and cheers echoing down the halls, as if they were at a bar and not the most prestigious hospital on the East Coast. He rolls his eyes, quickening his pace towards Naveen’s room. He had no desire to be around the group of cackling hyenas any longer than necessary. 

Soon enough, he makes his way to the construction zone. Pushing back the plastic curtains and avoiding the forgotten power tools and piles of supplies. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the piece and quiet. 

Until a delightful little laugh dances down the hall. 

He’d recognize it anywhere, the sound now imprinted in his mind. 

His stomach swoops involuntarily every time he hears it, even more so when he’s the cause of it and that fact alone make Ethan want to flee to the most remote place on Earth. 

But, run towards the woman who owns that laugh at the very same time. 

He straightens his white coat and takes a deep breath before opening the door to Naveen’s room. He makes it no more than a foot inside when he stops, staring blankly at his mentor and intern. 

“What in God’s name is on your head, Rookie?” 

The petite blonde turns to face him, her smile so bright its almost blinding.

“My New Year’s Eve hat, duh.” Genevieve laughs, taking a second to adjust the pointed monstrosity. “Don’t tell me you’re a scrooge about New Year’s, too?” 

“Scrooge is Christmas, Dr. McClure. Which has, thankfully, come and gone.” Ethan rolls his eyes, then closes the door. Walking over to Naveen’s bedside. “Please tell me you’re not interrupting Dr. Banerji’s rest.” 

“Of course she’s not! I was up when she came to check on me.” Naveen smiles at the intern and it was clear that her presence had cheered the old man up. 

And effect Genevieve seems to have on most people. 

“We’re making resolutions and discussing our plans for the new year.” Gen offers Ethan a hat from the stack on the bedside table, to which he declines. 

He still has zero desire to partake in the festivities, no matter how adorable she looks in the party hat. 

“You need to loosen up, Dr. Ramsey.” 

“I do not.” 

“You do.” She laughs again, and his insides melt like they had in the hall only minutes ago. 

He feels like a fool; getting butterflies like some prepubescent teen, having a crush on an intern in his charge. And there was nothing he could do to quell the fire that was slowly growing for her. He needed her help with Naveen, he oversaw majority of her cases, and despite his best efforts, she was becoming his friend, as well. 

He enjoyed her company and hated the idea of losing it. So, he was determined to keep his crush at just that, a meaningless little crush. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Even if his wayward heart had other ideas. 

“Well, will I make it to the new year?” Naveen quips, breaking Ethan out of his thoughts. 

He looks down at his watch, and shakes his head. “With three minutes to twelve, I’d think so.” 

“Good. Now, you two should get out of here and go ring in the new year properly.” Naveen nestles down in his hospital bed, pulling up the blankets. “This old man is going to attempt to get some sleep.” 

“As you should.” Ethan smiles down at his friend, patting his shoulder gently then walking to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, Naveen.” 

“Goodnight, Dr. Banerji.” Gen squeezes the older man’s hand. “Happy New Year.” 

“The same to you, my dear.” 

They share another smile before she joins Ethan at the door. The pair taking one more look at their sickening friend then leaving. 

“Any plans for tonight?” Gen breaks the silence as they walk down the hall, looking up at him. 

Even in the dim lighting, he can see how green her eyes are. Like two emeralds sparkling in a dark cave. Enchanting. 

“Home. To a glass of scotch.” 

“That’s so boring.” She shakes her pretty head at him, though she smiles playfully. 

“On the contrary, Dr. McClure, its–” He stops when he sees her about to trip on a pile of tiles, quickly reaching out to grab her arms. “Watch your step.” 

He pulls her away, and inevitably into his space. The air around them suddenly gone when their eyes meet, faces inches apart. 

Time stops and the world fades away, neither doing any more than breathing. It’s like something out of one of the myriad of romantic comedies Harper used to make him watch. Something so fantastical it couldn’t possibly be possible or real. But, clearly, it was. 

“I…” She’s the first to speak, a fractured word between breaths. “Thank you.” 

The small embers have now turned into a raging fire and its consuming every inch of him the longer they stand so close. 

He was truly playing with fire now, and, for the first time in a long time, Ethan found he didn’t care. 

“You’re welcome.” He offers her a small smile, forcing his eyes to stay connected with hers and not travel down to her lips . 

The moment is interrupted by cheers coming from beyond the plastic door to the secluded wing. Finally pulling them both out of the fog.

Ethan steps away, clearing his throat and fixing his coat. “It would appear that it’s midnight.” 

“Yeah.” She’s quiet, her voice barely above a whisper and her eyes still focused on his face. 

“We should go.” 

“We should.” Gen nods, then takes a breath. 

She steps back into his space, quickly but with determination. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she ever so gently kisses his cheek. It barely lasts a second, but the action still has him frozen. 

It was a bold move by an intern, and he was impressed by her gall. But, she wasn’t just an intern. Something they both clearly knew. 

“Happy New Year, Dr. Ramsey.” Gen smiles and without looking back, she leaves him there. 

His cheek still tingling from her kiss, and his heart beating rapidly. Thundering against his ribcage. 

Struck with on singular thought, he wanted more. 

Four Years Later; January 1, 2023

The sunlight slowly begins to creep in from between the closed curtains. The soft rays dancing across the floor and the king sized bed. But he’s been awake long before the sun began to rise. Even on a mini vacation to Dagger Mountain, and after a night of festivities, his body is unable to sleep in past his usual wake up time. 

Though, he doesn’t mind, instead using the time to catch up on emails and, of course, stare longingly and lovingly at the woman sleeping peacefully beside him. Amazed at where life has taken them. 

Four years ago, he’d woken up on New Year’s Day, alone, thinking about the unexpected kiss he’d received the night before from an intern who he had an unwanted crush on. How he wanted her to do it again. How he wanted it to be a real kiss, and not just a quick peck on the cheek. 

How damaging and dangerous his ever growing feelings where. And now…

Now he’s woken up on New Year’s Day, happier than he’s ever been with that very same intern. Only now Genevieve isn’t just an intern, she’s his wife and his equal in every way. 

So much had happened in those four years, but the one constant through it all was their love for each other. Even when Ethan didn’t know it, or tried to deny it. It was always there, behind every action he took with her, and every ounce of patience she had with him. Like an eternal flame that could never and would never be extinguished. 

He turns on his side to face her, gingerly brushing the hair from her face. She was so beautiful, even with last nights mascara smudged under her eyes. It took his breath away. Has his heart skipping a beat. 

She stirs, shuffling closer and reaching out to ensure he’s still there beside her– like she does every morning. 

Ethan grabs her hand with a smile, kissing it gently. “Good morning, sweetheart.” 

“Morning.” Her reply is nothing more than a sleep drenched murmur. Eyes still closed as she burrows into his chest. “More sleeping.” 

“Unfortunately for me, I’m wide awake.” He leans down, kissing her head. “But you’re more than welcome to go back to sleep, we don’t need to check out until noon.” 

“No, just cuddling is good.” Gen drapes an arm around his waist, her fingers lightly scratching his back. “Did you sleep good?” 

“I always do with you next to me, my love.” 

“You’re very romantic this morning, Chief Ramsey.” She leans back, face scrunched with suspicion as she looks up at him. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing. I was merely thinking of you and us before you woke up. That’s all.”

“What about?” 

Ethan sits up against the headboard, pulling her to sit with him. His arm wrapped securely around her shoulder as she settles. “Our first New Year’s Eve together.” 

“First, like our first as a couple or first as in my intern year.” 

“The latter.” 

“Oh, when I kissed your cheek like a crazy person.” 

“Yes.” 

“I still can’t believe I did that.” She laughs, “Like, I have no idea what came over me that night. I just knew it was midnight and I wanted you to be my New Year’s kiss.” 

“Hm.” Ethan nods.

He wasn’t blind back then, he could see she had feelings for him, as well. He had assumed it was just a crush like him, brought on by the amount of time they’d spent together. As he said would happen months prior during the fMRI. Of course he was wrong, it wasn’t just a fleeting crush, and their first real kiss three weeks later in Miami was the proof. 

Not to mention all the things that happened after that.

She was always meant to be the love of his life. 

“You know what I just realized.” Gen sits up to face him, her hand moving to rest over his heart. “You’ve been my New Year’s kiss every year since.” 

“Have I really?” He covers her hand with his own, thumb running across her soft skin. 

“Yeah. We were secretly dating unofficially the following year, and then dating for real the year after that, engaged last year and now this year we’re married.”  

“And what about next year?” 

He already knows what comes next, what will be for the rest of his life. But he’ll never tire of hearing her say it. 

“Who knows, maybe we’ll have a baby, but,” She changes positions again, this time moving sit in his lap. One leg on either side and her arms wrapped around his neck. “We’ll still be husband and wife, and be each other’s midnights forever.” 

“Sounds amazing, G.” He smiles, then pulls her into him. 

Sharing their first kiss of the year, one with the promise of a million more to come.

A/N: I might do one more NYE themed fic but we’ll see. Either way, Happy New Year peanuts! 

(tagging separately)

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan x gen #cfwc holidays 2022