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dumbbitchenergy17 · 6 months

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Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 8

Chapter Seven: Because of You

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 5.4K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, joel actually cares :0, just fucking sad shit tw: trauma from abusive mother, description of child abuse

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I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes. I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life. My heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with.

Joel and Tommy returned soon after you passed on the question. They expected some resistance or some smart comment but you accepted the meal with a noise of thanks and eyed the medicine Joel provided but took it regardless.

Ellie was quickly berated by both Miller brothers to understand what the sudden calm behavior came from and clearly, the young girl had something to do with it. “I just talked to her?” That was her response and it was the truth. A single conversation with the young girl that didn’t involve scolding or harassment about being seen as ‘normal’ in Jackson was what occurred. Ellie worked at your pace not pushing you to reveal everything and treated you like a human being, not some wild animal that the people of Jackson think you are.

Whatever you took knocked you out leaving you sleeping throughout the rest of the day only to awaken nearing sunset with a healthy meal Ellie had gotten from the mess hall by Joel’s orders but she did sneak some desserts in for you to eat. The environment and relationship that was changing from your near-death experience started to become more noticeable. You still kept to yourself, your bedroom and the stables your sanctuary from all that was outside, you hardly talked to Joel this instinct that keeps you at a distance from the man, Tommy it was more of him talking to you but you would add your two cents in and were so rigid when he would appear at the stables at random times to check in on you or to bring you something to eat.

The only person you would really ‘close’ to was Ellie. You started eating some meals with Ellie just the two of you and she would fill the silence by talking about whatever was on her mind with you speaking at times, she would hang around the stables and help with the horses when she wasn’t at school or hanging with Dina and Jesse. She took you to some places she would go with her friends and there was one interaction where you met Dina and Jesse that didn’t involve you beating someone up or trying to kill them when you first met them. It was awkward with you standing slightly behind Ellie just staring at the two teens as they tried making conversation with you either responding with grunts and nods or not even saying anything. But when Ellie would speak to you a few short sentences would come out but directed to her.

Despite being close to the younger girl and interacting with her friends you kept that boundary with the Millers and yourself. No matter how many times Tommy would invite you over for a ‘family’ dinner you refused.

“I’m not in your family.” And that’s how it would end, no amount of begging or offering of your favorite meals would convince you. Why would you have dinner with people who claimed it was for a family when you had no relation to them?

The cold was only getting more colder entering the final month of the year before spring would soon come. Making sure all the horses had extra hay for this chill in the air especially the two colts that are Dakota’s. Once they were situated you went out to do some last-minute things only to be interrupted by the appearance of Ellie petting one of the horses Shimmer.

“What are you doing here?” Your tone may have sounded cold and threatening to others but the young girl knew otherwise.

“Just wanted to see if you’re done here. I need help moving something from Tommy’s to the house.” She says rocking on her feet it looks like she just got out of school her pack still strapped to her back.

“Why can’t you get Dina or Jesse?” You question grabbing feed from some of the older horses petting Red in passing, “Because the two of them have this dinner date thing—blegh.” She says rolling her eyes and making a gagging noise.

“I thought they broke up?” You were very confused by the two’s on-and-off relationship, “Yeah they are doing this date to see if they want to get back together. Come on let’s go I need your help and everyone else is busy.”

Adding the remaining food in the large trough outside all of the older horses' section you move back inside grabbing your coat and throwing it on. “Fine.” Ellie pumps a fist up in the air with glee as you take your time signing out in the log and writing some notes on items needed. Ellie rocks on the heels of her feet,

“Come on let’s goooo.” She groans and you follow the girl out of the stables trying to take the quickest route to Rancher Street. Normally you would take backstreets walking through the few wooded areas only to walk through the main streets when completely abandoned. The awkwardness from the lingering stares from people as you follow the younger girl like a shadow keeping close by but distant enough that people seemed to move away when the two of you came near. It didn’t bother you, you weren’t looking for companionship or kindness from these people you didn’t know them and they didn’t need to know you.

The family street appears as the two of you pass by the house you reside in towards the other house containing the younger Miller brother and his wife and child. Ellie bounds up the porch steps letting herself in holding the door open for you to follow. You hear the door close behind you and the sound of voices further into the house but you can’t make it out.

“Tommy we’re here!” Ellie calls out and Tommy responds with an ‘Over here!’ and the two of you enter more into the house. You should have noticed something was off with Ellie’s almost nervous but excited energy. When the two of you turned the corner and saw the dining room you stopped in your tracks. The table was set for dinner food was already prepared Tommy held his son on his hip bouncing the slightly fussy baby, Joel sat on one side of the table already nursing a glass of whiskey, while Maria entered with what you assume was the final piece of the dinner.

“Great you guys are here come sit food is still hot.” Tommy gestures as he places his son into the chair designed for the baby before taking his seat at the head of the table. Maria moves to sit beside her child the baby separating the couple. Ellie already throws off her pack and coat taking a seat beside Tommy leaving an empty seat between Ellie and Joel. You still haven’t moved staring at the display.

“Come on kid, food’s gonna get cold,” Tommy calls out to you and your eyes slowly move from the table to the man. He carries an almost hopeful smile on his face as the others stare at you waiting for you to join in their family meal.

“What the fuck is this.” Void of emotion and sharp edge to your words. You were cornered the air was thin and a pit in your stomach made your insides churn.

“Hey, language,” Joel calls out in a warning tone, especially before the young child. Your gaze snaps away from Joel to Ellie who looks anxious about the growing tension, “You said we were just picking something up from here.” Your throat felt tight and a tingling sensation fills your fingers flexing them trying to gain feeling.

A sheepish look covers the young girl, “You wouldn’t have said yes if I asked. You never said yes before. So I thought this would be the best way to get you to come…” Her plan which everyone else seemed to be involved in had backfired horribly.

“I’m not hungry.” Your response is short already rejecting all of this: this idea, the meal, the people, everything. You didn’t want this. “You haven’t eaten since lunch and that was hours ago.” Tommy brings up having been the one to bring lunch for you just a simple sandwich not filling enough to miss dinner.

“I’m not eating that.” You shake your head sending a glare to the meal before you. Though the smell and appearance of it once made your mouth water and crave it you only felt ill looking at it.

“We can get you something I’m sure we can mix something up real quick. It would be good to all sit together and talk about how our day has been anything just a nice family dinner.” Tommy tries to convince you but it was that one word that made you want to hurl.

“I’m not part of your fucking family.” You hiss taking a step back, “I don’t want this or you or anyone.” You wanted to bolt you wanted to be back in that cabin maybe you should have pressured them more to put you out of your misery back then or maybe not fought as hard against those raiders.

“Why can’t you just accept our help or the fact we care about you?! Sure the world is fucked up but you don’t need to hate the small amount of good that is left,” Ellie stands taking a step towards and a frustrated look crosses her face. “If some shit happened to you just talk to us but don’t fucking act like your the only one suffering. You don’t want a chance to be a part of a family that cares for you again be my fucking guest.” It was like a punch in your gut and if there was any food in your system it would have left your stomach. Your gaze snaps to the three adults each of them with ranges of pity.

Fucking pity.

They saw you as someone weak.

Some broken little thing that needed fixing.

Your gaze pauses briefly with Maria’s, the understanding of how hard those words affected you. She knew the truth she knew why you were cold-hearted your life focused on yourself and everyone else was your enemy. The look of a mother who wished to comfort a child. Why hadn’t you ever received that look? What made you so different that she could never give you that look? It made you fucking sick.

A metallic taste floods your mouth from how hard you are biting your cheek. The weight on your chest felt unbearable just having them stare at you. You don’t even think you could respond unless it was to throw up. It was hot and uncomfortable in that room and it only seemed to rise in temperature. Your vision just seems to tunnel black creeping in from the side.

Fuck you can’t breathe.

You probably could have ripped the door from the hinges from how hard you swung the door open. A loud crash as the door slams against the wall but you don’t even care. Numb feet trip down the steps the coldness of the air heightens as you rush away. The people inside that house their voices fall on deaf ears. You couldn’t hear anything. Blindly letting your body guide you somewhere finding the familiar clearing that was introduced to you by Ellie. Where you sat awkwardly to the side just observing the trio of friends laugh and tell jokes. They tried to include you but you just shook your head listening in as you picked the dirt under your nails. Your chest screamed for air that it desperately needed. The blood spills freely from your mouth staining the snow a crisp crimson. You hold onto a tree with one hand hunched over gasping for air surprised you haven’t buckled over.

Why didn’t she care about you?

Why didn’t she love you? She could have at least pretended for your sake.

And why didn’t he stay? Did he care that little that he didn’t want to try?

Was she right? Just a bastard child to a bastard father.

“Kid?” Your eyes darted spotting the couple standing a few feet away from you. Maria holds her son in her arms the baby is sound asleep wrapped up. Tommy takes a step forward and you react taking a stumbling step back swiping your mouth ridding the blood that paints your lips and a bit of your chin. “You’re alright..” Tommy stops holding his hands out like he’s talking down some rabid animal.

“Tommy,” Maria calls out to her husband who glances back as the woman moves forward, “Go tell the other I got her…give us some time to talk. Girl on girl.” She says before looking over at you who watches the interaction with cautious eyes. Tommy hesitates just for a moment before taking his son and leaving the clearing until it’s just the two of you. Maria heads swiping some snow off the log that substitutes as a bench taking a sit before patting one end. You don’t move keeping your distance.

“You don’t have to might be nice just to sit and talk.” She says warmly, not an ounce of disgust or even remotely upset with your actions in her home. You shuffle forward but sit on the snowy floor a good foot or two separating you. “Ellie is sorry for what she said, though I’m sure she’d feel even worse if she knew how hard those words hit you huh.” She speaks not expecting you to respond. Finding more interest in the snow your gloved hand tracing shapes in the snow.

“Is it the fact that you don’t want to have dinner with us or you’ve never been given the opportunity to have a normal meal with people?” Maria saw the way your gaze snapped to her before darting back to the snow avoidant of the adult’s gaze.

You’re not even sure you’ve had a decent meal in your entire life. Even being here in Jackson you’ve eaten the bare minimum to survive. Why would you indulge yourself in the luxuries of a homecooked meal or even fresh food? You didn’t deserve it, a stranger in this place. No reason for them to feed you well enough until they can throw you make in that cell or perhaps turn you over to the raiders.

“It’s not fair.” You mumble and Maria looks down at you not rushing you to speak, “You live this great life, a perfect little family in this perfect town. Nothing is wrong with you.”

“Not everything is perfect. We’ve all lost something…some more than others. I hav—had a son, Kevin,” Maria falters slightly and you can hear the sudden sadness lace her voice as you look up at her, “He was only three on Outbreak Day. Tommy has lost people he’s cared for, same with Joel and Ellie. It takes time to come to peace and some just never get over it.” Maria says a sense of peace despite the fact of losing a child.

“It still hurts but the pain gets easier but it never leaves. Some days are better than others. I can only be grateful for the life I have now and knowing my little boy is in a better place.” Her voice gets all choked up and she swipes away a stray tear from he misty eyes.

“I’m sure he knows he is loved.” You say softly and she nods looking down as a few tears fall but she takes a moment to compose herself.

“I’m sure in another world both my sons would have known each other. I’m sure in another world your mother would have loved you the way you deserved to be loved.” She says and you’re not sure how to react.

You’re not sure you could ever imagine a world where she loved you. To hold you in her arms like you were fragile glass. To read to you stories about far-off lands of heroes fighting to save the day. To soothe your tears and heal your cuts and scrapes you gained for having too much fun not from getting beaten and burned by those around you. To care about your interests and the things you enjoy. To be funny and make you laugh so hard you cry. To hold your hand when you are scared and protect you from the nightmares and fears that couldn’t hurt you. To make you a homemade meal to sit at a table and talk about your day and just be together. Maybe you would have a day in that picture. He’d come home from whatever job existed before the Outbreak Day, complain about the long day but happy to come home to his daughter and wife.

“I don’t think she’d ever love me no matter what world we lived in.” You wonder what kind of person you’d be in a different life but you believe that some people truly can’t change. Maybe this apocalypse truly brought out the real side that people had hidden in a normal society. “I’d rather have her lie to me. To at least act like she wanted to read me stories, to hold me on the cold nights instead of sleeping by a barely working radiator, to have my father be in my life and not just a string of drug addicts and horrible men, to tend to my wounds from bullies instead of learning how to stitch my first cut at nine, to just sit with me and a goddamn table and talk to me! To treat me like her kid...her fucking daughter instead of some bastard child!” Your throat grew more tight and your vision more blurry. It was anger a hatred towards her. You were jealous of all of those people who had good parents. A father in their life. A mother who loved them. You got neither. You wanted that. You craved it.

“I just wanted a mom.” You gritted out a burning in your eyes until you felt something run down your cheeks. Raising your hand see wetness appear on your gloves before turning your attention to Maria who looks at you sadness covering her eyes. Harshly rubbing your eyes to rid the tears and scowl though not a very good one. “Doesn’t matter it’s stupid anyway.”

“It’s not.” Maria defends against your statement, “You deserved someone to care for you and she failed you. Not you. You deserved that life you wanted and she failed to give that to you. She failed at being a mother. You didn’t fail as a daughter.” She says and it’s quiet between the two of you. A mother who wished she could’ve given the world to her first child but was given the chance to try again and a daughter who gave all she could’ve to a woman who was meant to be a mother and given nothing in return. Maria stands up holding a hand out for you. It’s a moment before you accept her hand though it’s not the action of helping you stand but telling you something deeper.

A mother caring for a child that isn’t even hers.

The walk back to Rancher Street has a new energy and a different feeling. You can’t describe how things changed between yourself and Maria but it did. As the familiar view of the house you occupy with Joel and Ellie comes into view a guiding hand rests on your shoulder and you’re brought away to the house that is Maria and Tommy’s. “Why are we going over here?” You ask confused maybe Joel and Ellie were waiting in their house. But they would have been waiting in their home for you to return.

“Just trust me.” She says and while a part of you, the part that screamed at you to run and hide. To reject this adult’s trust, you didn’t know her, she could hurt you, you don’t know her intentions. But you still followed after her until you reached inside the house that remained empty no sound of Joel or Ellie. Coming around the corner is Tommy and their son held in his arms. “You’re back.”

“Can you go sit at the dining table for a moment?” Maria asks and you nod trailing over to the dinner table to food still set and waiting for someone to eat it. You could hear some muffled voices a whole room separating you from deciphering the words between the couple. The couple returns with the male holding Liam as he places the baby in the highchair. The child babbles at his father before Tommy pulls away heading off to the kitchen with Maria. The baby seems in their own world before he makes eye contact with you and you feel locked in its gaze. A staring contest between a teenager and an infant. Pinned under the child’s innocent gaze unable to react. You weren’t sure what to do. He seems to see something you don’t do before giggles fill the room as it laughs at you. Maria and Tommy return the couple smile softly at the sight.

Your gaze snaps to Maria and Tommy, “I don’t know why it’s laughing at me.” The worried expression only causes the child’s laughter and babbling to increase.

“Well, Liam seems to like you so I don’t think you need to worry about him giggling at you,” Maria says before serving generous portions of food onto a large plate and covering it to keep the food all warm. She gives the plate to Tommy who collects his son and the two head back out and you watch them leave. “Where are they going?” You question as Maria grabs a new plate and starts filling it with a spread of the food placing it at one seat and grabbing a new plate she looks up at you.

“What would you like?” She asks and you look at the food, then the plate, then at her a look of confusion. “What?”

“What would you like to eat? There is chicken, a mix of vegetables, and mashed potatoes with some gravy we also have some leftover cookies but those can be for dessert.” She explains pointing at the different options before you. It hit you hard in the chest what she was doing for you. “You don’t have to stay, I can serve you and you can stay here and I’ll eat somewhere else or you can sit somewhere else in the house if you feel more comfortable.” She reassures you willing to work at your level. To just sit at a table and talk.

“You can choose.” You say fidgeting with the gloves on your hands feeling hot from the layered clothes. She does a spread of the options giving you the option to try everything with portions you would never serve yourself. It was too much food that you didn’t deserve. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen this much food just for you in your life. Maria settles down going to get started on her meal when she looks at you sitting across from her staring at the meal unsure where to start or if you even could. Maria stands up grabbing her plate, “Come on.” She grabs your plate and drink follows after her as the two of you leave the dining room finding yourself in the family room. Maria places her food on the small table in front of the couch gesturing for you to follow.

“You can sit on the floor or the couch whatever you prefer.” She says before moving toward the television to set something up. You sit on the ground your plate of food resting on the table at your chest your legs crossed under the small table. “You can start eating if you’d like. Don’t wait up for me.” She says over her shoulder and the hunger you’ve been holding back has you digging into the meal. Rich flavors and the weight of the fresh warm meal a great feeling in your body. A pleasant sound fills the room as light shines from the tv. Maria sits on the couch her plate resting on her lap as she starts to eat as the film begins on the screen.

“This is one of my favorites.” She says and the film plays and you’re sucked into the story reading the title of the film with wide curious eyes.

“The Lion King? How can a lion be a king?” You say looking back at the older woman, “Just watch the movie.” She says and you return your attention to what’s on screen.

You ended up moving up onto the couch around the midpoint, the food filling you up, and when Maria said that you were allowed to have more servings you declined so full from that. You weren’t sure how you got so invested in the film, feeling a deep sadness and shock when Mufasa died. To be invested in the characters Timon and Pumba a crack of a smile listening to their jokes. By the time the credits came it wasn’t shocking from the full meal, the film, and just the exhaustion from the day's events you drifted asleep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch your arms acting as a pillow.

Maria got to work quietly cleaning taking your plates to the kitchen and started to pack up the remaining food leaving leftovers for them but having some to give to Joel and Ellie. With the leftovers in hand, she glances at you still asleep on the couch the dim glow of the TV shines on your features before she quietly exits her home to fetch her husband and child.

Joel wasn’t sure what to say or do when you returned. Given Ellie’s outburst that quietly turned to guilt once you fled his brother’s home, they went out looking for you. Looking back at their home, then the stables all the while comforting the young girl who was filled with guilt for the harsh words she had spat. When Ellie suggested a location the young introduced the older one to they ran into Tommy with Liam who reassured them that Maria had you and they were talking things out and to return to their home.

Joel wasn’t expecting Tommy and his nephew to appear at his door with what looked like the meal they were meant to eat. Still, he questioned where you were but Tommy reassured him that Maria was providing her dinner and it would be better to make it a gradual approach involving you in these things. He could understand that, you kept to yourself eating meals alone in your room or at the stables when someone would bring you something, you came and went with little to no warning. Sometimes late a night he had to really strain his already bad hearing for the front door to quietly creak open and even quieter footsteps travel around the first floor before retreating to your room. So the four of them ate the meal Maria prepared in Joel’s dining room. Ellie hoped to apologize to you but for the time being, was able to distract herself with Tommy’s son. Now that it was truly dark and a meal would be over when another knock came at the door and it was Maria with leftovers he couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated.

“She fell asleep after dinner. Tuckered out from the day.” Maria says while trading the leftovers to Ellie for her son. Joel nods his fingers holding the loops of his belt, “Well myself or Ellie will come over in the morning to collect her.” When he said that he saw the look Tommy and Maria gave each other clearly he was out of the loop with something.

“What is it?” A hint of concern in his tone. “Joel..” Tommy starts not sure the best words as Maria takes Tommy’s hand giving it a reassuring squeeze, “We’d think it might be better if the kid stays with us.”

Joel wasn’t sure how to take that news. Did you ask to stay with them given the events of today? Was it something he did before? “I’m sorry what?” The words didn’t seem to register.

“We just think it might be good for her to be in a more family-oriented environment,” Tommy says and Joel sends him a questioning look, “The hell does family-oriented mean?”

“Joel come on, she stays practically locked up in her room and if not she’s at the stables until she has no choice but to come back. Ellie talks and tries to spend time with her but seriously Joel do you know one thing about her? You both are busy anyways with Ellie in school and you with your patrols she’s left with nothing to do.” Tommy says and Joel feels like this is an attack on his skill of taking care of a child. His hand rests on the broken watch around his wrist. He raises Sarah all by himself with the help of Tommy but it is just him and his babygirl. Then there was Ellie he would say he is raising her well for an ambitious spitfire of a kid. Tommy’s words hurt him and the image he had of being a good parental figure but it shined a light. He saw Ellie as his daughter his kid to protect and care for but in the beginning, you were some brat shoved in his hands as his responsibility now but he couldn’t explain this need to watch over you. Though he did it while keeping a 15-foot pole separating you both.

“You said you couldn’t do it cause of Liam why the sudden change?” Joel wanted to find an excuse just the tiniest one so he could claim he was the better fit but he had no clue why he wished this. The old him would be rejoicing and letting them take you off his hands.

“That’s because we didn’t know her. All of us needed to learn to trust her and we do. She’ll be around at least one of us when with Liam and this might be the first step and getting her out of her shell,” Maria says “She’s been through a lot Joel and she’s only now wants to talk about it. She needs normalcy in her life. I don’t mean this in a wrong way but you and Ellie still live and act like you’re out there fighting to survive.” Now that riled up the older Miller. Sure he kept to himself spoke when only necessary to do his job then returned home to do it all over again but things were different now. Ellie and him had things that they never had out there and being here was their fresh start from everything that has happened to them.

“Tommy.” Joel looked at his brother hoping he would try to defuse the situation and maybe reconsider but he didn’t. “Did you even ask her? Do you really know her well enough to know what’s best for her?” He sounded spiteful a bite to his words.

“Stop it,” Tommy’s voice curt to his brother and his wife, “We just came here to tell you she’s going to be staying with us. Not fight over who knows her better. If she wishes to return to stay with you she’s more than welcome to.” It’s quiet between the three adults before Liam begins fusing and it’s too late for the baby to be out.

“Look you’re welcome to see her. We’re not keeping her away from you Joel but if you really think she’s better off with you. Put some goddamn effort in getting to know her instead of treating her like some stranger.” Tommy says before delivering his brother a pat on his shoulder that was meant to be comforting but only felt like a mockery. The family retreats back to their home as Joel closes the door a weight in his stomach as he stares at the woodgrain on the door.

“Joel?” Ellie’s voice makes him turn from where he stands to find Ellie standing in the living room. He was sure she heard their conversation but didn’t but in. “Is she not staying with us anymore?” Sadness laced her features and it only added more guilty weight to his gut. This wasn’t something he could give some hopeful response that things would be better but he truly didn’t know. You’re decision would be up to you and it may be his fault for not putting in an effort.

“I don’t know kiddo…I don’t know.”

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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onekindredspirit · 5 months

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This photo is the last remaining evidence that I once stood before the mystic portal of the O.K. Corral. Everything else except memory has been taken with time, and so I deposit this remnant here in salt and light and code. The O.K. Corral was a crumbling, condemned 5 bedroom Victorian villa that featured in my life when I was young. I rented it with a friend for, initially, $40 per week. That price was later negotiated down to 'rent free'. Mr. Fox, our landlord, was seen only once more, and on that occasion he tried to sell the place to us for $10,000. The current market value is around $1.5 million ... but money isn't everything. The O.K. Corral was a 'Dude Ranch' and the definition of that is "... an all-inclusive immersive vacation that includes lodgings, meals, horseback riding, fishing and hiking and more." Okay, there was no horseback riding, fishing or hiking but there were other things going on ... and more. Interestingly, the word 'dude' has changed meaning over the last 140 years. Today 'dude' means something like 'bro' but back in the 1880's, when 'Dude Ranches' first began, it was slang for an urbanite. As I write, things continue to fall into place.

I had known my friend since I was 6 years old. I don't think I liked him much back then. He was an extrovert and pushy when getting the painting resources at school. I didn't sit with him anyway because I was a 'foreigner' and I had to sit next to the only other foreigner in the class, Elizabeth Federinko, a Ukrainian girl who couldn't speak English and drew horses all day. I think it was the horse drawing that eventually drove me crazy or maybe it was something else ... possibly bad blood. Anyway, I'll call my friend 'Bukowski'. By the time we were 20 years old I quite liked the guy. Sure there were other arenas of male competition but I found myself better equipped to deal with those. The cool thing about pushy people is that they make thing happen and 'Bukowski' was no exception. For example, he could cook. We had a litany of weirdos and 'freaks' pass through the O.K. Corral. A note to the sensitive - to be called a freak back then was the highest form of compliment in our subculture. It was all a little crazy and you would be disappointed in me if I told you about life at the O.K. Corral, so I won't. Let's talk about something else. One day 'Bukowski' decided to move to another region of New Zealand, some place warmer that would better suit a boho gentleman with alcohol thinned blood. I have rarely lived alone but for a week I did until one morning I was woken at 1am by someone sitting on the end of my bed and talking to me. I wasn't clear as to what she was saying but I wasn't at all concerned as this was probably 'normal' when you don't lock your doors. Realising I was now awake she turned on the light.

I didn't know her but I knew who she was. I'd seen her riding around the city on a Norton Commando motorcycle which had impressed me because of her small size and once she had smiled at me as we passed each other on a city street. I remember that smile, it was powerful enough to stop and turn me around. It was a beautiful smile. The following morning she returned with her possessions and we shared my bed. I feel I had been looking for this person most of my life but when you dream someone into your life there's a danger that the results may be "... reductive and diminutive and I think basically misogynistic ..." as the writer Zoe Kazan once said in an interview when discussing the 'Manic Pixie Dream Girl' trope. Clementine, in the movie 'The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' warns Joel - "Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours". One thing though, I was never quite sure if she was my projection or if I was, in fact, the projection of her own desires. But I'm comfortable with that. We lived together. She taught me a lot. I gave her love in return. 'Clementine' eventually moved to Australia, a place better suited to her large personality. Years later I was sitting having an espresso at Fidel's Cafe on Cuba Street when 'Clementine' walked past the large plate-glass window. I had only a glimpse of her face but from that brief moment I sensed that she was not happy and that her health was not good. I didn't get up and rush out to catch up with her. I didn't run after her seeking some meaningful reunion. I let her go and watched as she disappeared into the crowd. Sometime in the not too distant past I had discovered that the person I had been looking for all through my youth and into later life was myself. I let 'Clementine' go. But the night I wrote this I dreamed of 'Clementine' and it was a beautiful dream.

- One Kindred Spirit

#original writing #photographers on tumblr #original photography #subculture

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findafight · 2 years

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Steve's parents were absent when he was growing up yes we know this is true and so he imprinted on Hawkeye Pierce as the only stable and reliable male role model in his life (circa 1972-1983). THIS is why he doesn't realize his bisexuality is not the standard for everyone because, in my humble queer "grew up watching MASH thinking BJ and Hawkeye are married" opinion, Hawkeye is a fruity little guy. absolute icon of a bisexual. Like obviously so many characters are Queer Icons in Mash (Klinger is Very Obvious and yes I'm in love with him and yes he was an Important Experience for baby me what about it. But also. Henry Blake I see you. Margaret Houlihan you should kiss a woman about it.) BUT Hawkeye is 1) arguably the Main Character 2) openly flirts with men/indicates he is Down To Bone if they are so inclined/implies he is Babygirl Material (??? Legitimately catches me off guard rewatching he's so obvious. Sir! This is a hospital! You have your hands inside a person's guts!) 3) was definitely in love with both Trapper and BJ (I am not taking comments about this at any time) 4) very much Cool Uncle shaped and begging to be imprinted upon by baby gays.

And while YES obviously I believe Klinger was Steve's First Celeb Crush because man's got a Type, he ain't subtle, Hawkeye was the one that ingrained that it's Totally Normal And Straight To Want To Flirt With Men into baby Steve's brain. Like of course Hawkeye was in love with BJ you just don't talk about it for some reason. He doesn't know. Gay people are because they act a certain way? Because they're only attracted to their own gender? He isn't sure and he's not thinking too hard about it. And that's his role model!! Hawkeye is the best! Sure Colonel Potter is the most Horse girl Dad Man of anyone ever, but Hawkeye is So Shaped.

So when he comes out to Robin in a totally bizarre manner ("Robin. Was. Was Mash gay?" "Steve. Babe. what are you talking about." "Like, Hawkeye and BJ? They were kinda gay right? And Hawkeye definitely said stuff that implied he liked men. I am wondering if that's a gay thing." "Steve. Usually when a man likes other men it's a gay thing." "So Mash is gay" "I have no clue. I mean. Klinger was kinda fruity, right? So... Maybe?" "Hm. Huh. Okay so like. Hawkeye liked women right?" "Yes. I do recall he was certainly interested in women" "yeah and he had that girlfriend who didn't want to marry him. But he also liked men. Is that a thing? He had that lady-ex but was also in love with BJ. I thought everyone was like that." "W-why? Why would you think that?" "Because Hawkeye did! And so do I! You know I didn't have many positive male role models in my life so I just assumed that's how Being Straight was." "Steve I love you but being attracted to anyone but someone of the opposite gender is, to me, a decidedly Not Straight thing to do." " "That's what I'm saying, rob! Mash was kinda gay, and so am I!") He speeds past queer crisis directly into "I can't believe I could have been dating boys this whole time too why didn't anyone tell me this earlier." While Robin is bewildered as to how Steve gaslight gatekeep girlbossed his way into and immediately out of the closet.

#steve harrington #robin Buckley #steddie #platonic stobin #eddie: okay so are you freaking out because i kissed you #steve: no no mash got me thru the crisis real fast im just realizing i have a type #eddie: im sorry. mash got you thru your sexuality crisis?#steve: less of a crisis and more of a 'oh shit. thats NOT straight? huh' moment #eddie:how did mash do that? steve: robin told me it wasnt straight to have crushes on men and lemme tell you.mash did not teach that lesson #mash #finda's rambles #yes i am continuing my 'steve loves Mash' agenda and you cant do anything about it.#also my 'steves first crush was Klinger' agenda.#stranger things

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jesncin · 6 days

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please do tell about why woman of tomorrow sucks i love reading your takes they’re always so well written

Sure! And thank you for throwing me this bone because WOOF

(btw it's totally fine for people to like Woman of Tomorrow, and I can even see why! This is just my experience with it that I wish was talked about more)

Quick context: Woman of Tomorrow is about a space farmgirl named Ruthye who seeks revenge on Krem, a guy who killed her dad. Supergirl guides her on this journey so they can learn lessons about grief and revenge.

The biggest flaw of the comic is the narrative prose. Ruthye's dialogue is a rambly, over-indulgent, stylized mix of an attempt at medieval Shakespearian speak, but then in the last few issues the writer remembers she's a farmgirl so he decides she should suddenly say "ain't" more often and speak in double negatives to sound a bit more Southern. I can enjoy wordy comics! But Ruthye's dialogue and narration is blatantly excessive purple prose. So many scenes would hit harder with a less-is-more approach while still being stylized and characteristic. Sometimes the narrations pairs nicely with the art to create layered irony, but most of the time it feels like it's disregarding the comics medium altogether.

The other thing about Ruthye's narration is that it holds the story back. I get that the narration is Ruthye writing from the future, but the way it's done gives us a very passive relationship with the events of the story. We don't get to be with the characters in the action heavy moments because we're reading caption boxes of Future Ruthye rambling about poetry recounting The Battle of Capes. I'm not experiencing grief or dread with the characters, I'm being told about it. All of Ruthye's narrative rants boil down to "Supergirl is really badass, sad and kind. I promise this is deep." and "here's how my farm girl experience is relevant to this". Ruthye also speaks in glowing admiration, idealization and worship of Supergirl; it makes it really hard to get to know Kara in a humanizing way. I'm sure the purple prose hits differently for others, but I personally think the story would have more room to breathe without it.

You know how people like saying "Superman is boring because everything is too easy for him, he's too powerful" yeah that's Woman of Tomorrow. The conflict Kara faces are not challenges to her character, they're inconveniences. The resolutions to each story don't feel clever or earned. Kara just knows where to find the murdered purple aliens, Kara just happens to have a silver age-reference magical horse that can outrun the suffering-ball Krem throws at her, Kara just toughs out 10 hours in the green sun. Why be a smart storyteller when you can just give your heroine the upper hand every single time? There could've been a great bonding moment where Ruthye uses her famer-smarts to build shade for Kara, she could've crafted a salve to protect Kara's skin. But I guess having her guard Kara from dinosaurs is ok. Kara helps of course, even though she's dying because she's so cool, badass, sad, kind, etc.

Kara's internal conflict is that she was hoping that taking Ruthye on this journey would teach the farmgirl a lesson about revenge, but has Kara herself learned to move on? She's still thinking about Krypton after all. The problem with how this is presented is that it's not a flaw that we get to see evolve with the story. We see Kara act mopey, get an origin story flashback and then Kara tells us this- in hopes it'll recontextualize everything you've read before. By the time we make it to the end, the characters act like they've learned so much and I'm just standing here wishing I got to see all this growth they're talking about.

At the heart of it, I feel like Woman of Tomorrow represents the side of Super-fandom that wants to see the Kryptonians deified by the narrative. They hate seeing Kara do silly girly rom-com teenager things, she needs to be SERIOUS and EDGY and SAD and ALONE but like a god would be and not how a young woman would be that way. How else will boys take her seriously? Don't forget to remind the reader that she's STRONGER than her boy scout wholesome cousin! There's potential in a short revenge story about young girls finding hope in seeing a role-model woman survive loss, but not like this.

"You don't think I could've solved all those problems? C'mon I'm Supergirl." I sure love seeing female characters be badass girl-god legends who don't get to be humanized by being unflatteringly flawed people. Anyway the better Supergirl grief+revenge story is "Supergirl: Being Super". I don't think it's perfect because it misses the crucial difference between Kal and Kara among other things- but as a story about a teenage heroine learning how grief shapes her and those around her, it's way better.

Woman of Tomorrow's art is stellar though lmao would get a copy just as an artbook to reference.

#askjesncin #woman of tomorrow #jesncin dc meta #media criticism #there's a whole Ruthye rant where she talks about how superfam stories aren't pointless because they'll meet opponents stronger than them #and then the story proceeds to show supergirl defeating genocide pirates no biggie with help from horse #all she had to do was fight harder

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courtingchaos · 1 year

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Rent the Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I PT 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Boy, Eddie sure is head over heels for you, and is also a teenage boy. Wonder what he's thinkin' about this time?

A/N: This is actually a part of part 3. It was longer but i'm having a hard time figuring out a good end and this one had it. Short like part 1, but there's still more to come and a lot quicker this time too. The holidays really got the best of me, sorry for the wait!

Warnings: 18+ (lil babies go on, git.), getting spicier but not like, anything filthy (we're getting there).

Eddie is fully willing and able to admit that he’s being an asshole in this situation, but like, just not yet.

December had flown by and for a whole god damn month he had managed to not only get it in multiple times with one of the prettiest cheerleaders Hawkins had to offer, he’d also gotten to spend a significant (and close) amount of time with you. Every morning had been spent in usual routine of his hands in your coat pockets, your scent trailing him while he walked to first period.

And, y’know, It wasn’t like he could do this with Gwen. He was positive he’d get his ass kicked if he laid a hand on her in public, and it wasn’t even like he really wanted to huddle with her like he did with you.

And therein lie the problem.

While Gwen was fun (so much fun) she just wasn’t you.

And no matter how many times she’d sucked his dick (it’s been six, he’s got the mental tally going), or invited him to climb into her room, or slid into the back of his van, it didn’t actually matter because on the whole of it:

She. Wasn’t. You.

He’d been waiting to find fault, honestly counting the days down at one point, because it was bound to happen. She would finally slip and say something abhorrent to him. Something about his music or his club or, the worst, his life in general. He thought you’d be the trigger this time, considering how often Gwen brought you up.

“So your friend, the conjoined twin.”

“What about her?” He’s kissed halfway down Gwen’s stomach, pausing to look up at her. He has no fucking clue which way this is going and he’ll be god damned if he’s got fingers in underwear if it’s mean. Hackles raised and-

“She’s like, really funny.” Oh thank god.

“Oh she’s a riot. You should hear her and her friend Jackie get going. They got a whole bit about being Stepford Wives that’s actually pretty clever.”

“I’ve never seen that.” The course correct is strong; he wants so badly to explain that it’s a book as well. He instead reminds himself of the naked girl under him and becomes intimately acquainted with her bellybutton.

“She’s like, so good at making people laugh. I think she would have made a great cheerleader.” Gwen is a little toasted, propped up in the back of Eddie’s van while he kisses down her neck and tries to avoid the joint she’s waving haphazardly around his head. His fingers have crept up to the button on her jeans and she’s dazedly helping him pull them open.

“I’ll have to tell her that, she’s gonna laugh her ass off.” And he sure as shit will, as soon as he can get the image that has just been borne into his mind, out. You? In a cheer uniform? He’s clutching his metaphorical pearls over the idea of you in nothing but the cardigan and the bobbie socks, all pliant and willing and on your knees with his fingers pressed in your mouth-

“Oh? You talk about me a lot?” Gwen is looking down at him all soft and open and he feels guilty for a second.

Focus, asshole. You got real girl in front you.

“All the time.” He wonders if she can hear the white lie in that.

“Why’d you call her Sam?” Gwen asks this in a kind of airy way, like she’s trying not to care. Eddie catches the tone, tries to explain as easy as he can. He feels like he’s trying to keep a horse calm.

“Samwise.”

“What?” He doesn’t want to roll his eyes but she asks so quickly, like she doesn’t want to actually listen.

“Samwise. He’s one of the Hobbits from Lord of the Rings. Frodo’s best friend.”

“And that’s you?” She’s smiling again.

Crisis averted, filly is calm.

“I like to think so.” There’s a self depreciating ring to that but Gwen doesn’t hear it. Sidles up to him and grabs his vest to pull him closer. They are very obviously out of eyeshot of anyone of any importance.

“I’ve never read it before.”

“I could read it to you next time I come over.” He runs a fingertip down the side of her face, pushes some strands of hair back. They’re silky and straight and blonde and he likes how it catches the light.

Nothing like your’s though.

“Will we have time for that?” She’s trying to be coy but she hasn’t quite got the foundations of being sexy down. Eddie grins, his soft spot for naive preps seeping through.

“Baby there’s always time for hobbits.”

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For her to come fully out of her woodwork and ‘Carrie’ him, to borrow your phrasing.

“No, not her as Carrie. You as Carrie.”

It’s what’s kept him from admitting to himself that he’s being an asshole about this whole thing. She’s actually just…nice. She’s flippant about them sure, but for the same reason he is.

It ain’t that serious.

He can’t deny he isn’t having fun with Gwen but it’s literally just sex and weed.

If he was better with his own emotions, he wouldn’t have let this go on for so long. It’s not like he’s deluded himself into thinking him and her are dating, but she’s gotten comfortable with him. It’s been so easy lately for her to call, drip the suggestion of sex down the phone line and wait approximately 15 minutes for him to pop through her window.

And yeah sure, woe is Edward Munson, 18 year old social outcast, fucking around on the regular with one of the popular girls. He isn’t expecting any laurels and accolades for his heroism here, but he did think he had a little less cowardice in him.

If he could just figure his shit out with you, then he’d be golden.

You, both the figurative and literal woman of his dreams.

The denim clad goddess, the pit dwelling priestess, the nerd loving oracle!

You, who always had his back.

You, who never cared when he whined about his girls or his games or his guitar.

You, who had hung around longer than anyone he could remember.

You, who was his best friend.

Ah, the other problem.

If there was one thing Eddie refused to do, it was ruining the best friendship he’d ever had by thinking with his dick.

…Even if he really did want you to like, maybe consider his dick. He’s been told more than once that it’s great! (Big even! But he’ll get back to that…). Hell, he’s even 5 for 5 by his own mental scoring in bringing all the girls he’s been with to their screaming highs. Multiple times in the same night!

I’m a pleaser, sue me.

None of them really matter at the end of the day though, when he’s alone and lonely. The whole trailer vacant and dark and quiet save for his music playing softly from the tape deck. He’s running his finger along the edge of the sacred polaroid like he’s trying to summon you right out of it.

All of his past experience boils down to practice in this moment.

Practice for when he can get his head out of his ass and just tell you how he really felt.

Practice for when he’ll hold your head in his hands and whisper his feelings right into your open mouth. Tilt your head back and dip his tongue in, lick your own confessions right out of you. He knows he could do it too, he’s heard all about your exploits. Half assed fucking in the backseats of too small cars and not one asshole to even try and go down on you!

And what a crying shame that is.

God, I’d treat you right.

Eddie knows the warmth of thighs pressed up around his ears, fingernails running running running over his scalp, hands pulling at his curls. Knows the little sighs, the shivers that run up a spine when he licks right up their hot center, tongue dipping inside for a taste. Knows how to roll the flat of his tongue right up to that little pink button and go in for the kill. The way hands will grab at anything they can find purchase with and hold on while they come sighing and squealing and moaning his name EddieEddieEddie!

All that’s just been practice for you.

He’s driving himself insane thinking about your legs wrapped around his head, fingers dug into his hair, chanting above him. The low timber your voice gets when you’re Very Concentrated.

It’d be his pleasure, and his alone, to waste an hour or two between those thighs making a mess out of you. He’d bury his fingers in your cunt and find that spot, the one he knows will make you see galaxies. The one that’d make you lock his head in place with your legs. He’d be relentless in his pursuit of your orgasm (and your second and third and fourth), have you whimpering and moaning and loud for him.

Eddie knows he’s truly good at a few things in life, and this is one he prides himself on.

The thought of you trembling undone under his hands is the catalyst for him to finally drop the picture and reach down under his sheets to let his dick free. Four quick strokes is all it takes and he’s coming, eyes rolled so far into the back of his head he sees white. His breath catches in his throat and he can hear himself letting out a low whine, warmth splashing over his stomach. When he floats down to a more even breathing he picks up his shirt from beside his bed to wipe himself off and can feel the plummeting beginning to take hold.

Oh here it comes.

For all of his grandstanding by himself in the dark, he’s not going to grab you round the head and kiss you stupid. Post jerkoff clarity is settling in and reminding him of who he is. Which is your friend first and foremost, and also someone who has never quite grasped how to vocalize his emotions. Someone who’s still being led by the dick by a nice set of eyes in a pleated skirt. Someone who’s gonna get tossed to the side once prom season gets into full swing. Eddie covers his eyes with his forearm, takes a few deep breaths and wills the stinging in his eyes to go away. A new kind of shaky breath fills the quiet of his room and if he lets himself cry for a while it’s a secret between him and the four walls.

Later when he’s outside letting the cold air clear out his lungs after his cigarette, his red face cooling in the night, he has his come to jesus moment. He’d decided after his little crying spell that he’d break it off with Gwen. It’s not like he was going to be her date for anything (not that he even really wanted to), and not like he’d ever even consider going to something as conforming as prom.

And they weren’t even serious!

So, he cuts her loose, she gets to look like the good guy and he’s free again.

Free to hang out with you and go to shows, go eat and drink and get high and share smokes.

Free to get his shit together and finally sit you down for a little talk. If he couldn’t find the balls to breathe his confession into you the way he fantasized about, then he could put coherent thought to paper with pen and write himself a little speech.

💕Tag List💕

@edsforehead, @fracturedarkness, @munsonsguitarpick, @bebe0701

Thank you! You're all amazing!

#Stranger Things #Eddie Munson x reader #x reader #Eddie Munson smut #gettin smuttier by the installation #Stranger Things fic #my work #fics #Rentfic

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phoebified · 5 months

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ooooobliiiiigaaatory sso post because new dark rider design dropped! erissa (not sure why they didnt just keep elise or change it to eris? but that's ok!), the remake of chiyo, just dropped, and... she's white! interesting. there were a lot of ways sso could've saved the dark riders fumbles. there were a LOT of those fumbles, but the one i hammered on the hardest was chiyo, because i myself am japanese, and immediately know a bad design when i see one. likewise, i'm pretty spot on with calling how that character will most likely be written, and can make a few good solid guesses. i will say, i feel lots more in common with sabine, and am against the way they designed someone i could relate to and then painted them staunchly as a villain; likewise with all the dark riders, this may be sso's most diverse group yet, and they are villains. HOWEVER. at that point, they had already put them in-game, and now all i can hope for is some good old fashioned childhood "everything ends up fine" writing that shows these characters some love and perhaps sways them from their homocidal ways.

back to erissa.

why was chiyo's design racist? well, it wasn't just her. most of the dark riders were handled poorly. to be honest, i've talked SO much on this blog about why chiyo was such a bad design that i simply don't want to rehash it. was it the worst i'd ever seen? no. but putting in those stereotypes to a game children -- WHITE children -- play is like teaching children to hit bees nests for fun. it's pointless and hurtful to everyone.

SO: what do i think of erissa? she's cute! i like this design way better than the last.

that's it. whole idea. i think the colors are more comprehensive, i like the crochet details, i think the hobby horse looks a little silly but i kinda like it. overall, i am happy.

now you're probably wondering, "what, so sso can't make non white villains!?" and the answer to that is 1. don't be stupid and 2. of course they can. but they better put just as much effort into the rest of sso. they don't, though. our only buff woman is alex, who barely counts because she's kinda small as fuck in game. that leaves Sabine, who's more buff. her character is nonwhite, visibly has arm hair, and until proven otherwise, is nonhuman. not only that, she's evil. that sends some pretty strong messages, and, side tangent, but to anyone too goofy or too stubborn to see how that's a problem, i'm excited to see how the children in YOUR family turn out, be it yours or other family member's. will YOU teach them what racism is and why it exists and the complexities of it that people scoff at that allow it to continue to exist day in and day out, or will you let them play all the other games that DONT revise their writing, where the good characters are straight and white and every other type of "normal" and the enemies are gay or nonwhite or both? anyway. i hope you see my point.

"children will experience this stuff ANYWAY!" sure. why add to it?

"oh, so you're pulling a save the children thing? so what, you want everyone to be th3 same?" no. i want them to take chiyo's design, make her clothes look better, make her default state not like a mouse, and put her in the game as sso's like. only japanese character. i'd fucking love that! do you know how little representation there is for weird japanese girls? we dont got dick or shit. it'd be so fun to have a slightly redesigned chiyo as an npc, i'd totally fucking adore that! different clothes bc i think her past design was a little. ourgh. it'd be fun and cool if they made her like, a budding emo? omg that'd resonate with so many people i'm sure, and the purple hair is already suited to it. black hair would also be cool, though. do you see what im saying here, though? context is everything. im sad sabine is a bad guy. im sad every white girl who plays this game gets someone to relate to. i guess i too really relate to and like anne, but that's where the similarities end. it's easy to say "why does race matter?" in a sea of white people if you're white, but it can get lonely playing any video game if you're not white. sso is one of the best games ive found in terms of trying to really add diversity (although im still waiting for updated fat npcs), and that's why i weighed in so heavily. it matters to me. i love this game. i think they've done so much good with it recently, i'm really just beyond impressed and in love.

i think erissa is a good design.

#sso #also not arguing with anyone 🕺

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dehydration-stati0n · 1 year

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Cowboy Casanova {Cowboy!Shanks x Reader}

Shanks is divorced to an unknown woman in this AU (??) Her loss I guess🤷. I was going to use Nami instead of Belle-mere but then I remembered that didn't make any sense timeline wise sooo here we are

Western AU Rules Word Count: 0.7k Spoilers: None

"Uh oh, look who's coming." Belle-mere nudged you, watching as Shanks make his way over to where the two of you sat on your ancient porch, his horse hitched up on one of the nearby posts. It was a wonder how the drunk even managed to tie the knot with how much he drinks daily.

"Well, howdy ladies, fancy seeing y'all here." Shanks greeted, faking a thick southern accent as he tipped his hat to the two of you.

You couldn't stand Shanks. You've heard too many stories about him in the many bars around town to have much respect for him. Most of them end with the redhead being dragged out to stop him from drinking and flirting with all the women there. Someone with so little care about their reputation always left behind a trail of trouble- bad luck, so to speak. You only wished your heart would stop aching whenever the alcoholic in question came up in your mind. You thought you hated everything about him, so why did you want him around so bad? Why do you daydream about talking to him for hours on end? Why did he have to be so handsome? You could tell Bell-mere knew about your little crush through all the knowing glances she always shot your way. You swore you'd kill her if she kept making it so obvious.

"Shanks," You greeted, clearing your throat, "What are you doing here?"

His eyes glimmered with mischief as he caught your gaze with his own, "Just thought I'd stop by and say 'hi' to my two favorite girls."

Bell-mere snorted, rolling her eyes playfully as she spoke, "Oh please, Shanks, take all your flirting back to the bar. None of that'll work on us."

"Yeah?" He grinned, "Well, maybe that's why you two are my favorite." You felt a light blush dust your cheeks at his words. You didn't think you'd last long if he kept at this game of his.

Small, golden clouds of dust started to kick up against the strong orange of the setting sun. The night sky that slowly peaked out above the rolling hills of the west faintly cast an ocean of darkness over the desert landscape.

"No really though, what are you doing here?" You questioned, curious as to why he traveled all the way from the city to where your small house sat on the edge of town. It wasn't a ridiculous journey by any means, but it took about an hour to do so, and you doubted it was only to say 'hi'.

He gazed into your eyes for a moment before replying, "My daughter, Uta, she's uh- well- I need help watching her." He paused for a moment, considering his next words, "She's young, and I'm away a lot longer than I'd like to be. Would you at least consider it?"

You thought about it for a moment- well, overthought it. Babysitting his daughter would surely make people talk. It wasn't exactly common for a divorced man let his daughter be taken care of by someone other than his ex-wife. Would this make you appear to be his wife? Or perhaps Uta's mother? Was this his strange way of courting you? It was Belle-mere not-so-subtly stepping on your foot that broke you out of your little trance.

You blinked up at the man and sighed, "Yeah, bring her over here tomorrow, I'll look after her."

"Thank you, (Y/N), you have no idea how much this means to me." He beamed, jogging up the creaky wooden stairs of your old porch as he leaned in and kissed you on your cheek gratefully.

Your blush rushed back fast as you stammered over your next choice of words, "Y-yeah, anytime- I mean, we're friends, right?"

"Yeah," His features held a sort of saddened desire as if he wanted-hoped even, that they would've been replaced with something else- something more intimate. "If you ever need anything, just come fetch me, alright?" He cringed internally at the word 'friend', but he supposed 'friends' would do for now.

You watched longingly after the redheaded drunk. It didn't take long for Belle-mere to catch on to your stare, as she quickly started teasing you for it. Belle-mere's playful jabs and giggles, your desperate pleas for her to quiet down, and the hooves of Shanks' horse as he made his way back to the closest bar to try and drink his feelings away again filled the night air. Both of you and Shanks' lives would be a little different now that this little event would be set in motion.

#shanks x reader #shanks one piece #shanks op #shanks oneshot #one piece oneshot #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece western au #op western au #western au #cowboy au #cowboy!shanks #one piece x reader #one piece #cowboy!shanks x reader

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gabessquishytum · 10 months

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Hello I was playing LoZ and started thinking about Hob and horses and thought the words “horse girl!Hob” as a joke but then -

Dream has been summoned and bound in a form again except for whatever reasons the sorcerers chose a horse. Their bindings were faulty. Dream escaped, though he’s still stuck. For a while he’s just running blindly, panicking a little about how to get home before damage is done. He ends up running to the New Inn without consciously thinking about it for ‘it’s basically a temple for Dream’ reasons, and Hob is like “welp I doubt anyone else in here has calmed a horse as many times as I have and anyway if he kicks the worst I do is start over and Dream knows I’m around still now”

Akskdjfj yeah <3 Dream as a big black strapping stallion!!! It's the content we deserve. Gonna tag my resident horsegirl supreme, @akhuna01 because I can't make a horse post without getting her involved.

The possibilities for shenanigans are excellent. Dream foaming at the mouth when anyone except for Hob comes near, so people think that Hob is a horse whisperer? Dream getting fed polo mints by well meaning local children? Hob having no choice but to, um, ride Dream?

I'm imagining that Hob mounts up in the hope of getting the horsey under control, since it seems to want him to ride??? He can't explain but he's getting that vibe. Anyway Dream immediately rockets off with Hob clinging on for dear life. And when he finally slows down he starts talking and Hob. Falls off. He's seen a lot of shit but never a talking horse.

When Dream explains, Hob is like "Well I'm not sure there's much I can do to help. But I COULD braid your mane, I used to be really good at it." So they lie together in a field and Dream gets a pretty pony makeover <3

#10moonymhrivertam #the sandman #dreamling

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zagreuses-toast · 4 months

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My Angua Playlist! I Didn't like Angua much at first but she won me over, and now she's enough my fave to have earned a playlist. my beautiful girl with a disorder, theres so much complex stuff going on with her relationship to herself, her family, carrot, the watch. i love revolving it all in my head. Theres some intentional overlap with Vimes's . Explanations under the read more as usual

Angua is a cynical pessimist, she's so sure she's going to be abandoned, that she'll slip back into her old bad ways, that she'll be attacked for what she is and have to run again. she always has one foot out of the door:

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

Haunted House by Sir Babygirl (this one especially nails the "everything is doomed i just dont want it to hurt too much" vibes of early Angua)

In the Blood from Hades

Nothing Good from Centaurworld

Lets Get This Over With by TMBG

Evelyn by Kim Tillman

Run Boy Run by Woodkid

Too Much Time by John Vanderslice

the Angua and Carrot vibes. sweet in many ways but they also have a doomed romance (as in, doomed to be in a romance) thing going on thats bonkers and very fun to rotate in my mind, especially when its in tension with angua's instincts to run:

Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men

Between My Teeth by Orla Garland

Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Tang

I Scare Myself by Thomas Dolby

The Bright Side by TMBG

Absentee by Jack Campbell

I like You for Psychological Reasons by TMBG (genuinely thee carrot/angua theme song in my mind)

The Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine (yes this is dog themed no it doesnt go in the dog themes section, the horses are carrot and finding a home in the watch)

Tounges and Teeth by The Crane Wives

Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

Sight of the Sun by .fun ("I used to run at first sight of the sun but now I lay here waiting for you to wake up")

King and Lionheart by of Monsters and Men

Despite being a pessimist, despite having been a killer, despite her family wanting her to go back to being that, and strangers still seeing her as a monster, shes better. she's trying:

Get Better by Frank Turner

Getting There by Mustard Service

Its My Way by Buffy Sainte Marie (gritting my teeth on this one, buffy was recently exposed as a horrific liar and a fraud who faked being native, but also unfortunatley this song still fits angua very well and i still like it)

Changes by David bowie

Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier

I'm Me by Vanessa from Phineas and Ferb (LISTEN, HEAR ME OUT, it's a little silly but so is angua sometimes)

This Year by The Mountain Goats

sorry for stereotyping you Angua but here's the werewolf/dog/monster songs, :

Maneater by Hall & Oates

Control by Halsey

Senses Working Overtime by XTC

Hey Bulldog by The Beatles

Werewolves of London by Warren Zevon

Freakshow by The Gothic Archies (specifically vibes with her being undead, and all the stuff people think about that in universe)

Turn The Lights Off by Tally Hall

I wanna Be Your Dog by AJJ

misc:

Music With Rocks In by Louie Zong

Synopsis for the Latecomers by TMBG (city watch vibes, i always imagined she's the next commander rather than carrot)

#angua von uberwald #discworld #angua #playlist #carrot ironfoundersson #rotating her and carrot in my mind #add any reccomendations you have!#Spotify

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coffeeandmagicaltales · 3 months

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The Auror & The Devil part 9

(FLUFF, cozy, nothing really happens, grab your tea/coffee & enjoy) MCxAESOP SHARP

The August sun has been rarely seen lately from behind the foggy curtain; most of the Highlands were shrouded in stormy clouds and mist.

Aesop wasn't sure if it was drizzling or if he had entered a tangle of fog, hiding under his umbrella as he walked slowly along the muddy road, supporting himself with a cane.

He was in an area mostly inhabited by Muggles and preferred not to attract attention with a transparent, enchanted umbrella. He stopped for a moment at a crossroads, checking which way he should turn. A black carriage passed by, pulled by horses.

"Lost, sir?" shouted the driver, an old man with a bushy beard, but Aesop denied it, cursing his pride silently. He knew where he was ten minutes ago, and in that time, much had changed.

"Just a moment!" he called, changing his mind, and the stranger stopped the horses. "I'm looking for Marcus Dimm's brewery... Do you know it?"

"Oh, certainly, it's not far. Please, have a seat next to me, I'll give you a ride, but just a short distance, as the brewery is not exactly on my way... Billy Sommerset, at your service."

"Aesop Sharp," he mumbled, grabbing the extended hand. Billy pulled him up, and Aesop clumsily climbed the steps and finally took his seat, silently thanking himself for putting pride into his colorful socks. After a moment, the whip cracked, and the horses started moving.

"It's easy to get lost here, and you, sir, seem not from around here at first glance. I don't recognize the name either... I've seen similar ones on people who recently returned from Africa, have you been there maybe?" Billy tapped his cheek with his finger and glanced at Sharp, intrigued by his scar.

"I'd rather not talk about it..." he answered wisely, having no idea what Sommerset was talking about, and lapsed into silence.

"Well, terrible what happened to our folks under Congella... My neighbor, a young lad, didn't come back. We live in strange times... I've been a witness to too many untimely deaths lately, it's a bad omen... I feel in my bones that something bad is brewing, not that I'm a pessimist... Every moment there's some trouble, they fight somewhere, and they keep inventing worse weapons for war..."

"I guess that's the price of progress..." Aesop confessed with a heavy heart, frowning. "In the wrong hands, it becomes a curse."

"True words..." the man muttered, nodding. "I see you're your own man, Sharp, and I'll tell you in secret, I don't understand this notion that someone deserves something more than someone else because they have a different skin tone or were born in a prettier house... In the end, I take them all on a ride..."

He gestured with his head towards the inside of the carriage. Sharp only now noticed that behind the black curtains, there was a coffin jumping happily on every stone. He felt very uncomfortable, and regretted looking back.

"Old Dimm has been sick lately too..." Billy confessed with sadness. "Morana, his adopted daughter, is doing her best to help him... She's a good girl, a woman to be precise, I don't believe she's 16." Sharp twitched at the sound of the familiar name and felt a pleasant warmth growing inside him. He straightened up in his seat and suppressed a smile. "...Well, she's strange, I can say, and I'm almost certain she's a witch."

"Oh, really?" Sharp pretended to be surprised, focusing all his strong will on not bursting into laughter. Billy nodded, wiped his nose with a checkered handkerchief, and continued.

"You have no idea... A real she-devil. A black cat circles around her, and lately, she brought a sick horse home... I don't know, I don't know... A peculiar beast, heh, no one believes me because no one supposedly saw it, as if it was invisible... Don't be scared when you see it... Here, have some garlic, just in case..."

Suddenly, a clove of garlic appeared in Aesop's hand. He didn't know exactly what to do with it, so he thanked and promised to use it, putting it in his pocket. The rattle of the wheels soon stopped, and they halted at a crossroads.

"I'm turning right," Billy announced and helped Sharp get down, then glanced at his pocket watch. "Almost noon... In a few minutes, Morana should be passing through here. I saw her going to town in the morning; she'll be coming back this way soon. If you tell her you have business with Marcus, she'll surely take you with her. Nice to meet you, Sharp, and I don't say see you soon!" Billy burst into a ridiculous laughter, revealing his missing teeth, nodded, grabbing the brim of his hat, and tugged the reins, signaling the horses to move.

"Likewise, Sommerset." Aesop nodded appreciatively at the gravedigger's dark humor and, leaning against a road sign, watched the carriage go. Waiting for a few minutes didn't seem like a bad prospect, especially since it had stopped drizzling... Well, at least in theory, a few minutes were bearable, but suddenly it started to feel unbearably long, and Sharp, out of impatience, limped back and forth. His thoughts circled solely around Morana... Nervously, he ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his tie. He wasn't sure if meeting her was a good idea. After all, she proposed it herself, but there was nothing stopping him from politely refusing, which he didn't. At that time, it seemed like a pretty good idea and a distraction from the lack of activity during the day... Now, however, he was afraid he might be bothering her... Visits from an acquaintance were probably the last thing the Dimms wanted now, especially her. After all, in a way, she was at work, busy with brewery matters, family...

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?"

His heart pounded harder; the sound of hooves and the rattle of wheels mixed with a singing voice he knew so well.

"Morana," he whispered, but the smile faded from his face, and each subsequent word of the refrain pierced his heart like a thorn.

"Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme..."

He remembered when he last heard those words. A small cart emerged from behind the hill with a few barrels, pulled by a Shetland pony and its accompanying thestral, its wings masked by a blanket.

"Remember me to one who lives there, for once he was a true love of..."

She fell silent upon seeing Aesop, and he could see from afar how her face lit up with a pearly smile. She raced the horses and sharply halted near him. She loved dramatic entrances.

"Hi," she said quickly, catching her breath, and the smile didn't leave her face as she jumped down and shook the mud clumps off her worn dress. Taking Aesop's umbrella and cane, she tossed them somewhere between the barrels. In the meantime, Sharp patted Hranolka's neck, who demanded affection once she recognized him. Mora grabbed his arm and helped him climb onto the seat.

"Good to see you..." He whispered, and as they set off, he began to tell her about how he got lost and encountered the gravedigger, asking Mora for details about the war Sommerset mentioned, taking every opportunity to sneak a glance at her. Her appearance was slightly different from what he was accustomed to, and he wanted to examine her and not wanting to embarrass her by his stare at the same time. The nightsky of a thousand freckles on her sun-kissed face had increased by several dozen, forming constellations unknown to him. The makeup was also a novelty; her style seemed to deviate from the fashion of subtle colors accepted in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. Hmm... However, upon reflection, he immediately concluded that the dark, almost autumnal colors on her eyelids, along with the black, thick lines ending with a sharp edge, suited her excellently and reflected her character. Just like the golden earrings she didn't wear at school but now twinkled on the lobes and petals of her ears. He smiled at the sight of the golden star in her nose, which he noticed only when she rubbed it with delicate fingers adorned with numerous rings, as a stray strand escaped from her bun and tickled her. She always seemed modest to him, but here she was: earrings, a Deathly Hallows-themed necklace, jingling bracelets... He was quite surprised, but what could he expect - she was an adult woman, and she probably bought quite expensive jewelry with the money she earned selling ingredients collected during her escapades. Some of the earrings looked almost like goblin work, which immediately intrigued him, and he tried to remember to ask about them someday. Yes, she looked "different," but she was herself; every little movement and gaze of her blue eyes was familiar to him. And her terrible, charming laughter when he showed her the garlic from Billy... He understood how much he missed it... Missed her.

"You won't really satisfy yourself with garlic..." he mumbled upon hearing the rumbling in her stomach and handed her a cupcake wrapped in fabric, which was almost immediately unpacked by her and entirely stuffed into her mouth. He knew perfectly well that, as usual, she left without breakfast, and then didn't have time for it. "Slow down..." he laughed. "Thanks Salazar, I also made a few for the Dimms... Well, to be honest I feel a bit awkward coming at not the best moment..."

"Few people visit them lately; they will be happy." Mora assured him, speaking with a mouthful and placing her hand on his forearm. "Mr. Dimm feels a bit better, but he has to rest..."

"Wiggenweld potion probably did its job..." Sharp mumbled, looking at her askance, and she blushed. "I'm sure you gave it to him because, from what you wrote to me a week ago, he wasn't doing well. In a way... you did the right thing, but I don't want you to have trouble with the Ministry because of it. It believes that Muggles should be treated by doctors, not us... Ugh, don't look at me like that; I don't agree with everything they come up with, I'm just telling you the rules in the wizarding world."

"I added few drops to his tea, no one saw." she muttered, rolling her eyes and blushing.

"It would be right to ask him first if he agrees to alternative treatment. You probably wouldn't want me to dose you with my elixirs without your knowledge, even if they were supposed to help you..."

"Hmm, let me remind you the bottle of liquor they agreed to anything after one drink..." she nudged Sharp's side with her elbow, who nervously cleared his throat.

"Well... I just brewed it... Fig used it."

Morana laughed upon hearing his awkward attempt to explain himself. After a while, however, she became serious and admitted very quietly, "You're right... Next time, I'll ask for their permission, but I panicked... The fever didn't want to go away... Besides, they don't quite understand who I am; I don't want to scare them..."

"Did you talk to them about it?"

"I tried..."

Aesop raised an eyebrow.

"No, you didn't." he summed up, which deep down annoyed Mora but at the same time gave her a strange pleasure. The smirk, which slightly lifted the corners of his mouth, and the peculiar, sly look from under his dark lashes, which literally read her like an open book, disarmed and confused her. She liked the feeling caused by his intelligence and sharp wit.

It felt like she had said goodbye to him yesterday... It was over a month ago. Only a week and a half ago, she received a letter from him informing her about his small investigation and wanting to summarize what he had learned so far. She suggested a meeting, and they agreed on a date that suited both of them. Nothing special. Just a meeting. But no visit from her friends flooded her with such a sense of calm and comfort. She always stressed about someone's visits, wanted to make the best impression, and sometimes, wanting to please everyone (as was the case with Ominis, where butterflies in her stomach flew like possessed, turning her mind into jelly), she overdid it, which always ended with burnt cake or spilled drinks. Aesop Sharp made all her fears take a break, and they seemed to go for a beer to Sirona, leaving her alone with him and his extraordinary gentleness. The sun had slightly burned his nose and bony cheeks, which now had the color of beet soup. She had the impression that he must have dozed off somewhere in the shade recently, probably dreaming of fluffy nifflers, and during that time, the sun had peeked out from hiding and maliciously turned him red... Occasionally, he unconsciously rubbed the itchy skin with his hand. She found it amusing how his pale complexion quickly surrendered to the unusually warm summer. His British soul must have sighed in relief because it had been raining almost non-stop for a few days. Adorable.

"Poor, silly Aesop," she thought, smiling broadly. There was something different about him than usual. Maybe it was the grumpy grimace that had completely disappeared from his face along with the shadows under his eyes. He must have rested quite well, and it seemed to suit him, as he appeared more relaxed; his muscles weren't tense, as if he expected some apocalypse triggered by Garreth at any moment, and his sunken cheeks gained a bit more substance. At school, he ate fairly normally, and when he had too much work, Morana (not seeing him at the Faculty Table) would come to his class to remind him about dinner. Hmmm, sometimes he got so absorbed in his work, wanting to finish checking hundreds of essays on time, that he forgot about his hunger. When he told students that their papers would be returned the next week, it had to be the next week, and nothing could change that because he always kept his word, honorably, as a Slytherin... although, it often turned against him. Morana felt a bit sad, remembering how, towards the end of the semester, he panicked when he lost someone's essay and couldn't find it. They both searched for it for several hours, and only when he casted Levioso on one of the potion-making stations, and Morana crawled under it, did she find the mischievous parchment. It was supposed to be checked the next day, and her assurance that nothing would happen if he told the student to wait one more day completely failed to convince Aesop.

"Submit... not on time?..." he said with a slightly trembling, frightened voice. "No, no, no, Mora, that's a bad idea... I can handle it; there are still 3 hours left..."

"... Until 8 in the morning," she interjected, frowning, raising black eyebrows, and squinting her eyes. His eyes involuntarily closed, and every few moments, he discreetly yawned. Morana could barely stand on her feet, and her tongue seemed to produce words created by her mind with a delay when presenting arguments for him to postpone work and go to sleep. However, he insisted, sat down to read, and that was the end of it. Frightened by the prospect of breaking his promise or maybe appearing as an incompetent teacher, this fear often kept him awake at night, that something would not be done on time, that he would explain something wrong, and as an expert, he should know everything. He tried to control everything, and he took each lesson very seriously, something that practically no one except Morana seemed to notice. Maybe stress was taking its toll, and despite a good diet, it consumed him from the inside. He always looked good, dressed in an immaculate suit that smelled of his cologne (she could almost locate him in the castle by following the trail in the air), well-groomed beard, and perfectly combed hair... and now he looked almost radiant... Could anything be the reason for this other than the vacation? Someone?

Their eyes met. Aesop smiled shyly.

"I wonder what you told them about me? That person coming to them today is... who? Santa?"

Morana cleared her throat.

"A teacher."

"Hmmm, wonder which subject? Arts and Crafts?" he sneered sarcastically, thinking his joke was successful. His large hands, his height, gloomy clothes, and a menacing expression were rather the opposite of his idea of a typical artist, whether Muggle or wizard – someone dressed in colorful patterns, covered in paint, contemplative, and ethereal.

"Well, you could be one; you have extraordinary talent," Morana replied in a thoughtful voice, regretting that she hadn't thought of it before, because his drawings and sculptures spoke for themselves. Aesop blushed at the sound of the compliment and withdrew into himself, regretting bringing up the subject. "... but I said you teach chemistry; it seems to be the closest to what you do."

"Merlin..." he muttered, rolling his eyes, preparing for what was probably going to be the most abstract conversation in his life. "It will be funny."

From behind the mane of golden fields shimmering on the hill, a small farm emerged near the oak grove, surrounded by picturesque hills. Twisting, rocky paths and low walls separated the fields where sheep grazed. The barn, built of grey stone and roofed with slate, had been converted into a brewery. Between the tiles, a not-too-high, smoking chimney protruded. Wide doors, through which cows must have entered in the past, were now flanked on both sides by barrels labeled with a red emblem reading "DIMM'S BREWERY Finest beer est. 1790." They extended along the wall under a small, long, angular cottage attached to it, whose right half had been converted into a stable for a pony and a small carriage.

Aesop sniffed, sensing the intoxicatingly sweet aroma in the air, which he deduced as malt, bringing to mind something between caramel and raw bread dough that his mom often made without magic. Wait a minute... he thought. He recognized that smell. Sometimes, that's how Morana's parchment smelled when she handed it in for assessment or even her clothes when she returned to school after a weekend spent at the Dimms'.

Morana, just beyond the gate with a sign that read "DIMM'S BREWERY Finest beer est. 1790," stopped the horses and helped Aesop dismount onto the slippery cobblestone surface that covered the entire courtyard. She immediately handed him a cane and an umbrella. The stable boys, having greeted them, started unpacking barrels marked with a red label reading "BUTTER BEER." Morana quickly detached the pony and rushed Hranolka to the stable. Aesop wondered whether the men could see the thestral or if they weren't entirely aware of her presence in the brewery. The pony trotted slowly behind the winged beast, and they quickly reached the feed. Morana unhooked their bridles, hanging them on a hook, and led Sharp towards the cottage.

The modest rural dwelling was very well-kept; the windows sparkled with cleanliness, flowers bloomed in pots, and bees and bumblebees buzzed around them when it stopped raining. The cobblestone was cleared of all weeds and unwanted leaves. Aesop rarely visited the Muggle world, but the only difference he saw for now was the lack of magical pruning shears trimming the flowers in the pots. He felt completely at ease and, for safety, tucked his wand deep into his sleeve, not wanting to feel too comfortable and reach for it in the company of Morana's adoptive family.

The woman shook the dust off her patched dress and confidently entered the house, giving Aesop a wide smile and a chin nod to follow her. Sharp felt a bit uneasy, which always accompanied him during meetings with people he didn't know at all. He wiped his sweaty hands on his coat, and leaning awkwardly to avoid hitting his forehead against one of the beams, he took an uncertain step inside. In the brightly colored light from the stained glass windows, the room was very cozy. Warm colors dominated, hand-knitted tablecloths and napkins, patchwork throws on sofas and armchairs arranged around a pleasantly glowing fireplace. The floor creaked crisply with each of his steps, mixing with the clinking of a wooden spoon hitting an enamel pot, which Mrs. Dimm, standing by the stove, was stirring, as Aesop deduced from the smell, a carrot soup. The only problem was the... very low ceiling. Sharp tilted his head unnaturally, fearing a too-close encounter between his forehead and one of the beams, and removed his coat, hanging it on the hook near the door. Seeing that Morana had taken off her shoes, he cursed under his breath that he had to wear his crazy socks today, his lucky ones with nifflers chasing after coins. Leaning against the wall, he dealt with his footwear, not wanting to expose himself to anyone's disapproval by not following the rules in this household, despite the knee that had been bothering him a bit more for the past few days.

Morana approached Mrs. Dimm and, gently touching her shoulder, whispered very quietly that Professor Aesop Sharp had arrived.

"Yes, I know, I heard you laughing from afar already," she replied in a whisper and, patting Morana's hand affectionately, turned towards the guest, removing her apron.

"Well, well, what a sense of hearing she got..." Aesop thought, greeting her and bowing low, observing how the face of the gray-haired woman with rosy cheeks suddenly brightened with a broad smile.

"Please come in, have a seat wherever you're comfortable, I'll be right there!" she gestured with her hand, indicating the living room area. "Mo, fetch some water and please make tea, you must be freezing!"

"Mo, how lovely..." Aesop smiled, hearing Morana being referred to with a term of endearment he would have never thought of. For a moment, he stood still, contemplating this, and how well it suited Morana, then, the clinking of a spoon, which Mrs. Dimm dropped by accident on the floor, snapped him out of his thoughts. Morana went to fetch water from the well, and Aesop hobbled to help the elderly woman left in the kitchen by picking up the lost utensil.

"Can I help you with anything?" he offered, handing her a spoon, which the woman grabbed quite awkwardly, intriguing him instantly. She looked in a slightly different direction than his face when assuring him that she had everything under control, and at that moment, Aesop was sure she bwas blind. For a split second, he felt sorry for her, but he had no intention of asking intrusive questions. Seizing this moment, he very quietly took a shrunken cupcake tin secured with fabric from his pocket and, with the discreetest wand movement he had ever performed, enlarged and heated it. The scent immediately intrigued Mrs. Dimm.

"I brought a little treat for you..." he mumbled shyly. His legs were trembling. Damn, he could have taken a sip of Felix Felicis, but of course, Aesop Sharp from the past considered it foolish.

"Oh, you didn't have to!" she smiled and, sliding her hand over the countertop, found an empty plate. "Could you arrange them? I'm afraid I might scatter them all over the room." she chuckled. "Please don't be afraid of me; just make yourself comfortable. I hear you're a bit... hmmm... nervous."

Aesop's lips tightened into a line, so thin it practically disappeared from his face. He fidgeted, trying to string together some sentences, but Mrs. Dimm found his arm in the air and, patting it affectionately, signaled him to take a comfortable seat and let her finish the soup, which was starting to bubble dangerously. Morana squeezed into the room carrying two buckets of water, and with a mischievous smile to Aesop, she began to brew tea. He sat sunk in a chair that was too soft and small for him, looking at the cupcakes on the plate before him or nervously glancing at Morana in search of rescue, as if he were expecting a conversation with Professor Black at the very least.

Finally, both women sat on the sofa opposite him. Morana handed him a teacup, carefully observing his trembling hand.

"Is everything okay?" her concerned look asked, and Aesop nodded.

"My husband is feeling a bit unwell today and is resting upstairs, I apologize that he couldn't come down to greet you..." Mrs. Dimm said quietly, and Aesop immediately assured her that it was no problem and apologized for intruding at such a moment.

Mrs. Dimm smiled broadly. "You have a truly beautiful voice," she confessed unexpectedly, immediately met with Morana's sharp look and a stern "tsk" that came out of her mouth, that which amused Aesop. The old woman completely ignored her and continued, "Only that accent... Hmmm... London? No, no... That's not it... Oxford, yes. You come from higher spheres, don't you, Mr. Sharp? It's rare to hear someone speak in a similar way around here... but... You don't behave like one of them; you know the local customs as if you've lived in the Highlands for some time." She took a sip of tea and reached for a cupcake, and a sly smile danced on her lips.

It surprised him that he found a resemblance to Morana in her... Some words lingered when she spoke, the specific manner of talking, wise words... The list of such details was undoubtedly long, and he couldn't wait to start discovering them all.

"I see you have a detective's soul," he confessed jokingly. "Yes, my father is from Oxford, and I spent many years working in London by his side. My entire childhood, on the other hand, with Mummy, right in those areas."

"I knew it!" Mrs. Dimm exclaimed, almost spilling her tea, pleased with her deduction. "I love listening to detective novels; I have a whole little library, and I always dreamed of becoming an officer..." Aesop glanced towards a sizable bookcase, its shelves bent from an excess of literature. "Unfortunately... I was born blind, and a career at Scotland Yard was quickly knocked out of my head."

"Well..." Aesop cleared his throat, feeling that she might be impressed, even though he didn't quite know what Scotland Yard was. "I was a detective for almost fifteen years..."

Mrs. Dimm took in a large amount of air, and Aesop had the impression that she would start squeaking in delight any moment now. However, she composed herself and turned to Morana.

"Darling, why didn't you tell me about it earlier?"

"Mrs. Dimm, Professor Sharp needs some rest, and you probably wouldn't want him to come and tell stories all the time." Morana laughed, giving Aesop a meaningful look.

"Well, it probably would be like that..." she admitted with a sad smile, fidgeting with her legs like an impatient child. "Mo only told me that you ended your previous job, which you genuinely loved, earlier due to an accident. She didn't specify what happened, but I heard that you limp, and it's probably the result of what happened... It must have been a difficult decision... But well, life writes various scenarios... Unexpected... Often it takes away the dreams we want to give us what we need."

Mrs. Dimm's words touched Aesop deeply.

"I'm not surprised that Morana is so brilliant since she's under your care," he confessed quietly, with a soft voice, looking at Mora, who blushed and lowered her gaze.

"Hmmm..." Mrs. Dimm smiled, and her thoughts drifted towards memories. She adjusted herself on the sofa and took a sip of tea. "I don't know much about your past, but there's something in you that makes me think I can share our story... Morana is quite reserved towards people, but the way she speaks of you and trusts you... suggests to me that I can add a few details to the story known to everyone in the area... Many years we tried for a child with my husband, and when we finally succeeded and the baby came into the world... we only managed to give it a name before letting it go in our arms. I couldn't recover for a long time, and the fact that Marcus had to work, often traveling, did not help. But eventually, time healed our wounds... And so we immersed ourselves in everyday life, which didn't mean we weren't happy; on the contrary... But one day, the mailman brought me a letter in which Marcus chaotically wrote about a girl sleeping in a pile of hops between our barrels... We immediately decided to take her in, even though we were advised against it, told that she was a little witch, a devil, that there were many 'well-behaved' girls we could adopt... Ugh, as if adoption were a market, monstrous. We saw it as a sign, as magic. Little Mo had a spirited character and reminded me of myself from childhood." Aesop watched Morana closely, who looked in a different direction, and her face was covered in shadows. It was evident that she felt uncomfortable, as if someone were talking about someone else entirely, not about her. Suddenly, she stood up, announcing that she would take the soup to Mr. Dimm, slipped out of the room.

Mrs. Dimm, hearing the creak of the chair, gestured with her hand for Aesop not to stop her and sat down.

"Stubborn, always covered in mud, and seeking adventures." she continued in a calm voice. "We never prohibited her from doing what she loved, and even though she disappeared for a few days, she always returned to us with spruce branches in her hair, a few bruises, and sometimes even a knocked-out milk tooth. I forbade Marcus from punishing her because it worked the opposite of intentions... I know because I experienced it firsthand when my father often whipped me with a belt... And yet, I ran away even more, which might seem strange given my disability, but I always found a way to navigate the terrain and reach my goal... Anyway, my father was definitely someone I didn't want to be for Morana..."

"I know something about that..." Aesop interjected quietly. "My father didn't spare the belt and cane on me, which was one of the main reasons my mother left him. I know his raised voice and often his fist were a sign of his helplessness and stupidity... As is any violence against the weaker ones."

"Hmmm... I'm glad Morana found someone on her level... Although I've met all her friends and think they're wonderful, especially Mr. Gaunt, with whom I have a lot in common... They're still children and look at many things differently than Morana, or don't think about them at all. I knew there was something special about you because Morana didn't talk much about you, unlike practically everyone else. (Oh, dear, I even know what brush her headmaster uses to comb his beard.) Sometimes, she has many secrets, important mysteries."

"I rather doubt there's anything special about me..." Sharp shrugged. "Except that I'm one of the less liked teachers at the school."

"Hmm, yet I haven't seen those more liked here... Except for that boorish professor... what was his name... ah, Fig! He had quite the audacity." She smiled very mysteriously and beckoned him to come closer. "Can I see you?" she asked, raising her hands slightly. Aesop agreed to the request and crawled out of his seat, sitting on the edge of the sofa and allowing the old woman to touch his face. It was nothing new for him; Mr. Gaunt had also recognized his face in this manner when he started at Hogwarts, and all the teachers were asked to do so. Mrs. Dimm's wrinkled hands' touch was very delicate, maternal. "It might sound strange, but after hearing your voice somewhere near the ceiling, I assume you're quite tall."

Aesop laughed. "Thanks to my mum. We both walk with our heads in the clouds."

Mrs. Dimm chuckled and asked about the color of his hair, beard, eyes, to which he replied in detail, not hiding the fact that most of his beard was gray.

"I've never seen colors in my life, but I like their sound, like brown or blue. I don't like the word yellow or blonde..." She stopped when her fingers found his scar. She became serious, and her hands left his face. "Oh yes... True kindred spirit... I think I understand everything now..." she whispered very mysteriously.

What's on her mind? Her eyes covered with a veil seemed to see much more than others, observing. Suddenly, Aesop felt a bit like when he was with Morana, like a Muggle wanting to shout "WITCH!", feeling that she had abilities beyond his understanding...

"I think I've confused you a bit, I apologize; I can be very blunt..."

"You're definitely very mysterious." he admitted, suppressing laughter, and returned to his seat. Now he was not at all surprised that Fig had trouble gaining their trust, assuming that simple people, Muggles, would be less cunning than him.

Morana from the upper floor could barely catch snippets of their conversation, occasionally interrupted by the louder whistling of the wind dancing around the chimney. Every now and then, she tenderly handed Mr. Dimm a spoonful of carrot soup as he finished the previous one.

He looked much better. Seated in bed, propped up by several pillows, covered with a blanket, he could endure this position a bit longer than yesterday. He was still pale, but his skin was regaining color. Today, he even read for a while, which Morana considered a significant success. And he ate with appetite. When the bowl was empty, and Morana placed it on the bedside table, Mr. Dimm adjusted his cap, which he wore even indoors, fearing drafts, and took a deep breath, as if contemplating what he was about to say.

"I think it's a good time to discuss something with you, Mora," he confessed quietly. "In some time, the brewery and the farm will be yours, so I thought it would be best if you take over some of my responsibilities during the summer holidays this year... Of course, you can do whatever you want with the brewery, but even if you decide to sell everything, the merchants won't appear immediately; it might take a year or two, and it's better if everything works to generate as much income as possible... Don't look at me like that; I don't plan to die soon, but I want you to be able to handle everything in case I'm gone and not drown in debts." He grumbled in a stern tone, seeing her frightened expression, and continued, "Lyra and I decided that this year you will go abroad on your own... You can take someone trustworthy with you because we don't want you to be completely alone. Not because we doubt your abilities, but because loneliness can be quite overwhelming. We have much to catch up due to my illness, and I was planning to cancel the trip entirely, but I think it's a good time for you to explore the market on your own. You know how to haggle, and you know which hops are the best; I wouldn't trust anyone else with this task... Well... What's that sad little expression of yours, Mo?" he asked gently, seeing the corners of her mouth turned down, and lightly touched her cheek. "Next year, when I feel better, I'll go with you, but I'll be more of a companion, and you'll already be the boss. I'll be able to enjoy Czech beer without worrying that I'm at work." He joked, lifting Morana's spirits a bit. She smiled and placed her hand on his.

The silence was interrupted by a timid knock on the door, and with Mr. Dimm's permission, Aesop entered the room.

"Oh, Mr. Sharp, nice to meet you!" the old man exclaimed. "Please, come in. I secretly hoped I'd manage to come downstairs, but I'm not strong enough yet."

Aesop entered the room cautiously to shake Mr. Dimm's hand and began to scrutinize all the details, hoping to find some typically "Muggle" extraordinary objects, which immediately brought disappointment. Fireplace, bed, armchair, rug... Meh... He thought.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Marcus shyly.

"Well, thank you; my two angels take care of me." He glanced proudly at Morana. "And sometimes they are overly protective because I can eat on my own; I don't need to be fed." He smiled at Aesop and, after a moment, asked with a serious tone, concern in his voice, "How is Mora doing at school? Has she skipped any classes?"

Sharp immediatelly thought about killed trolles and poachers turned to smithereens, oh and a dragon, but shook his head, and Mr. Dimm's eyes lit up with pride.

"She passed her exams very well, although her po..." He bit his tongue before saying "potions" and quickly sought a substitute word. "Potential in chemistry is significant; she just lacks patience."

"That's interesting! Lately, Morana has been weighing the beer, and Mrs. Sirona, our best customer, hasn't complained about a change in its taste... You see, the process is quite complicated, and one errant sneeze cuould be disastrous."

"I see that you're a man of culture," Sharp said, shooing Morana out of the armchair and sitting down, listening with interest to Mr. Dimm.

"Well at least when it comes to bear! I know everything about it. My family owned a network of breweries for years, but after the crisis, we had to sell everything and focus on this small one to stay on the market without going bankrupt due to excessive expenses. We chose quality over quantity, and it paid off. I've been working in it for as long as I can remember. Lyra, on the other hand, studied at home when she was little. She has aristocratic roots, but her father quickly brought the family business to ruin. I often saw him drunk when I was a delivery boy visiting their house with orders, and Lyra would throw frogs into my bottle crates... None of us could afford a proper school, so we're determined to give Mo a better start. I won't allow her to be at the mercy and whim of a husband, like the daughters of my industry colleagues! Hell, with her knowledge already, she's becoming quite the competition! Maybe you'll show Mr. Sharp around the brewery, huh? And I'll take a nap." He suggested, subtly indicating that he needed rest. Morana nodded. "Please, come by again someday, Mr. Sharp; we'll have a chat and enjoy some fresh beer." He winked at him, and Aesop gladly accepted the invitation.

Morana didn't say much as they said their goodbyes and headed to the brewery. She felt like she was hearing Aesop's voice from under the water surface; he summarized the visit, pleased with the meeting. She was absent, contemplating Mr. Dimm's words, worrying about his health.

Aesop caught snippets of their conversation as he cautiously climbed the narrow stone stairs, so now, seeing concern on Morana's face, he completely understood her and fell silent, allowing her thoughts to drift in silence. She needed a moment of calm to sort everything in her mind, and deep down, he regretted leading her to the brewery, to show him how it worked, which didn't matter much to him now...

They walked slowly, him leaning on his cane, admiring the extraordinary machinery, the vats of malt, the pleasant aroma, and the ease with which Morana operated the complex apparatus. All of this wasn't important to him at the moment. He saw pain in her eyes, and he wanted to interrupt her, to talk somewhere private, in a quiet place, to let her calm down... On the other hand, he didn't have the heart to silence her story about the creamy beer, which she spun with such passion, answering each of his questions meticulously. Torn, he waited, enjoying her words.

"Aesop..." she said softly, unexpectedly, when they stepped outside. He supported himself with a cane, leaning slightly, listenning her. "I need to talk to you."

"Hm?" he asked, looking deep into her sad eyes, seeing through them the words that tangled in her mind. She lowered her gaze, glancing at servants.

"Not here, I'll escort you to the Castle; I haven't been there in ages." Aesop nodded, and with a discreet wave of his wand, he toppled a few barrels deep into the brewery, immediately alerting the workers. When they disappeared from Sharp's view, he extended his arm towards Morana; she took it, and they disapparated with a loud snap.

They walked arm in arm on the muddy path leading towards the Castle. Morana breathed deeply, seeing the familiar sight she had missed from the abundance of responsibilities.

"I had such a nice day that I forgot why I came here at all." Aesop chuckled. Yes, His deep chuckle was also something she missed, and before she could turn her head towards him, he slipped a small book, about the size of a prayer book, into her tiny hand. The cover was enigmatic, adorned with black, rough leather. Morana turned it a few times in her hands, but she found no title on the covers or the spine. In the yellowed pages, someone, probably Aesop, inserted small bookmarks. The first page was titled "Faces of Curses," and the foreword explained that the book dealt with a scientific analysis of scars and wounds that curses, dark magic spells, potions, and dark artifacts could leave.

"It's not the most pleasant read... Wizards use it for investigating crime scenes... My friend wrote it some time ago, you could say I also contributed to its creation... I marked a few cases that might interest you..."

Morana followed the first bookmark and encountered a rather drastic photograph of someone's arm marked with a monstrous wound... curls resembling burns and a few longer lacerations that seemed familiar to her own scar after a few moments. The title read: "Case 156: Memory-altering spells, memory-erasing spells." Other cases, similarly marked by Sharp, were related to Obliviate-like spells. Others resembled scars that a young Thestral had; they were only labeled as "dark magic."

Morana took a deep breath wanting to share her plans, the thoughts that had been swirling in her head for a long time... And now, when the opportunity presented itself... She didn't have the courage to confess them to anyone, as she knew she couldn't solve many issues with those she knew. Except for a certain former Auror, a detective.

"In a week, I'm going to Nitra. I want to know what happened that day to me, but... I need help," she wrinkled her brows, angry at herself for imposing on Aesop, afraid he might think she was using him for her purposes, and he might not be up for it. She was a young student; he had his own life and was her teacher, not a friend... She shouldn't... "Of course, I'll understand if the answer is 'no'..."

Aesop fell into thought, somewhat surprised by the proposition of a joint journey. He felt as if an angel was sitting on one of his shoulders, explaining to him that "traveling with a young, unmarried woman almost begged for scandal"; on the other shoulder, the devil chanted, "Adventure, ADVENTURE, puzzles, investigation, AESOP, I know you love investigations." He swallowed hard. The angel continued about conventions, while the devil raised the strongest argument: "You know... It's uncertain what awaits her there... To what or WHO clues might lead her to... Are you sure the emotions accompanying her search for her mother and father won't drown her vigilance? If she fell into an ambush, who knows, maybe she could even... die."

"Well... In a week, we have a meeting at school, but... But maybe a day later, I could reach the Floo flame in Vienna; from there, it's not so far to Nitra, I suppose..." he spoke with a trembling voice, nervously rubbing his hands together when he hid his cane and umbrella in case of meeting with any student. "If you wait for me one day, I'd be happy to help you... if you want help, because, in the end, I don't know what kind of help you're expecting from me, but I guess I'd be more useful on the spot than sending owls..." he babbled, not entirely sure what he was saying. Suddenly, a small hand grasped his arm, and a pair of two shiny eyes reflecting the cloudy sky gazed at him.

"Thank you," she whispered, taking him under her arm. Her hand rested on his forearm, subconsciously squeezing her fingers on a pretty hard muscle she could sense from undeerneeth his cloak, as if seeking Aesop's support. She felt more confident walking beside him in this way, as if he represented solid ground in the ocean that often flooded her mind with negative thoughts, especially when she had no contact with him. Aesop initially stiffened, wanting to assure her that he could walk quite well on his own... but... Well, after a few steps, he felt warmth spreading around his heart, and a blissful smile spread across his lips.

The devil on his shoulder kept chanting: "ADVENTURE, ADVENTURE! "

End of part 9, thanks for reading!

#professor sharp #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy meme #aesop sharp x mc #hogwarts legacy oc #professor aesop sharp #aesop sharp #hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp smut

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fluffypotatey · 7 months

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hiiiiiii thinking abt how mei was super uncomfortable with the idea of mk visiting her house and all of the "normal kid stuff" she wasn't allowed to do and how she and mk share a lot of traits but only the ones that mei's parents wouldn't have approved of. mks literally like. the parts of her she doesnt want to bring home

HEYO! forgive me, i was asleep then had to get to class. also, i wanted to give myself time to actually talk about this because yeah

*pulls you down* listen, listen to me, until 1x03, MK had never even been inside Mei's house. he even states how he "always wanted to see inside Mei's Secret Dragon House," and Mei housesitting the place is the perfect opportunity for him to see what lies inside. AND! if you notice!!!

SHE IS SHOWN TO BE VERY UNCOMFY AT MK JUST SPECULATING WHAT "SECRETS" ARE HIDING IN THERE. INVITING MK WOULD BE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT HER PARENTS ASKED HER TO DO!

but MK is so curious and he's her best friend and he might also just sneak in without her knowing.....so maybe she'll indulge him. housesitting is a lot better with friends than on your own.

anyway, if we go further into the episode, we see a Mei that is very different to our chaotic and confident gal. she's closed-in, cautious, nervous. unlike before, Mei is the one warning others not to touch things, to be careful, and to stay put. in previous episodes, we see her goofing off and being a little gremlin with MK while Pigsy blows a fuse over their antics.

not here though. this is her home. her clan's home. her clan's home full of ancestral heirlooms that she's been told all her lie to keep away from and not touch. respect your family and family tree is very important in Chinese culture (and many other Asian cultures but we're focusing just on one). even the language has different forms of formalities with addressing people (whether in the business environment, home, or school). but this is a very general observation, and i'm sure there are others who can talk about this a lot better.

however, Mei's family is very important to her character, so i will be discussing how it relates to her and her own decisions. on her own, Mei is very free-spirited and is more of a "punch first ask questions later" kind of person. when it comes to her family though, Mei is a lot more toned down and thinks first before acting. she is very aware of the priceless artifacts kept in her home (which is one factor on why she is nervous about inviting MK), and watching how she went about her home was like she was walking on eggshells. she doesn't want to upset and disappoint her parents.

additionally, Mei comes from a very well-off family. she is a part of the Western Sea Dragon clan. her ancestor is Ao Lie, the dragon-horse of the JTTW companions. why am i telling you things you already know? because it shows that Mei's family comes with a lot of history and recognition ("ancient noble dragons," as Mei had said). and with that, comes with the clan wanting to appear respectable in front of others. with such a high status, it is best to look the part, no?

however, Mei isn't really someone who fits into that noble lady box, right? she's outspoken, she's rowdy, she's impulsive. Mei even admit that as a kid she wished to do "normal girl stuff," stuff that wouldn't work out when your house is more of a museum than a home. i'm sure she did try to fit into that box for the good of her parents, but at some point, you come to the realization that that box will never fit you. Mei will never be perfectly noble or have the noble decorum that comes with her upbringing. she will never fit that ideal her parents raised her on (this is an assumption but also, it feels like a given?)

MK is the exact opposite of what Mei was taught to be proper. he is rowdy, likes to have fun, play video games, "roughs and tumble," and be impulsive. he is someone Mei definitely saw as the part of her she could never show her parents. how could they ever accept the side of her that does not care for strict decorum and keeping a house as a museum.

read this excerpt from her mom:

"We may not always see eye to eye, and your friends are...em, unique than we expected. But you are a part of this family, and it is part of you."

ignoring the incredibly sweet ending T^T the mother admits that Mei and her parents do have issues agreeing on what's best for Mei. there is love very clearly shown for between Mei and her parents, but there is still that distance between them. Mei is not the daughter they expected, and they don't always approve of her choices (her friends for example). so, we can figure that Mei is absolutely nervous about how her parents will feel about MK and whether that means they would stop loving her if she ever let down her walls in front of them completely.

#rewatched this episode just for you <3 #where is this energy for my midterm essay T^T #i am once again only capitalizing names and proper nouns bc i am lazy and it's more fun #me at the beginning: this will be a short couple of comments. i will not ramble into a long meta commentary #me as i screenshot 2 scenes from the desired episode: this will still STAY a short response. i will not succumb to the meta gremlins #me at the end: .....fuck #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk mei #lmk long xiaojiao #lmk analysis #lmk meta #asks

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musicallisto · 6 months

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and also happy birthday!!!

sending in a 🐚 + i’m bi, I like reading, writing, gaming and yoga, turn ons include pet names and receiving the princess treatment, turns offs include not sticking up for me and being messy

my fandoms from your list are bridgerton and red dead redemption💗💗

thanks so much for running this event it is soooo fun!!!<3

ohhh princess treatment, you say... let me introduce you to the absolute kings of making you feel like you are the very center of the world...

please... you know it had to be him. not only because I'm a strong supporter of the way you write him and think you are the authority on anything arthur morgan related, but also and most importantly because have you seen the way he tends his horse? how gently he talks to her when he strokes her mane? i'm thinking soooo many thoughts and none of them pure

not only that, but he is generally so caring (especially high honor!arthur, who's my personal canon interpretation of him) with those he loves and even strangers who sense the goodness in him. that energy would definitely translate into any romantic relationship, even though he'll need to get over a lot of self-doubt and self-esteem issues to make it work

in a modern AU you'd get him into yoga for sure. i can only imagine how tired and sore all those muscles are from all the hiking around the woods and fixing up stuff in your farmhouse and cutting up wood and—he needs a break, but not one where he feels too idle and therefore like he's wasting time, and especially not one where he can't be surrounded by nature. which is how you convince him to give yoga a try, on a fine dewy morning in your frontyard

he thinks it's a little stupid at first—"how's all that twistin' and bendin' supposed to make me feel better?"—but you're really persuasive and he doesn't mind the sight of you in your yoga clothes either, to be honest

he'd find it really relaxing and a surprisingly effective way to connect with nature and his surroundings, but he'd still groan a little for good measure because he doesn't want to admit you were right too easily. that, and also the poor man is NOT flexible and he is struggling.

pet names!!!!! so!!!! many!!!! pet names!!!! "darlin'" this and "sweetheart" that. "honey" and "princess" and "GOOD GIRL"?!?!,!?,,?? in that deep, southern voice of his? i need to lie down.

of course he'd stick up for you anytime you need it, and even when you don't. he pledges his loyalty to the people he loves, to the bitter end, so he'll always always defend you, even when you're a little bit wrong, lmao, but that's only because he's a beloved himbo and he thinks you're always right and so smart

also this is a little bonus—I considered mary-beth as well, because i think you too would be so so cute and actual real life ladies together <3

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

now, if princess treatment had a name and a face... it would certainly bear a striking resemblance to that of benedict bridgerton.

the man is literally so smitten with you, there's nothing he wouldn't do to prove the depth of his affections. expect every grand gesture you've read about in the books; bouquets of your favorite flowers and countless portraits and blazing handwritten letters slipped into the secrecy of your gloved hand at balls.

anthony wonders why his younger brother looks so... miles away, like his whole being rather than just his head is in the clouds (more so than usual), and also why the family's expenses have skyrocketed all of a sudden... but violet discourages him from badgering benedict about it, because she's too elated that he's finally found a lady to seriously court, lol

since you're so well-read, and therefore spirited and quick, as well as artistic and creative, your conversations with benedict are as stimulating as they are witty... and that's not mentioning your correspondence. you could send each other letters back and forth every single day, were it not for decorum: it's already quite scandalous that an unwedded lord and lady are writing to each other personally, you're supposed to at least entertain your other suitors into thinking they have the ghost of a chance with you. which they don't, because it's clear as snow no one compares to benedict's bohemian soul.

it's true, however, that benedict can be quite... messy, asjdfjab, and he's thankful that it's him who visits you and not the other way around because he would Not want you to see the mess that is his studio. but you give him an incentive to start tidying up a little more! because you deserve only the best <3

literally prince charming incarnate with the perfect dash of mystery and edginess to keep you on your toes. what else do I need to say

#— celebration; 1.5k!#— ask.#˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ margo #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader

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falloutjuli · 1 year

Text

As promised an almost 900 words tiny excerpt from my Johnny x Reader fanfic that I’m Working on, featuring a very jealous Johnny and Reader and Diego being besties! (Because Diego and Reader are both kinda dummies)

the whole thing is at 4k words now and still needs a bit of work but eh. Enjoy a teaser. Its gonne be mighty fine and Im editing it from Fem!Reader to GN!Reader because idk. Felt like it uwu.

Anyways, enjoy the tiny teaser hehe.

----

And during the time you three lived together until now... You became good friends with Gyro and developed a crush on Johnny. Much to your dismay but it is what it is.

Checking your phone, you saw you almost had to leave so you checked yourself one last time in the mirror before you walked in the living room to get to your room.

"Holy cow, Y/N! You look stunning!" Gyro commented, a big smile on his face. "Thank you, Gyro, didn't know you could be nice."

"Didn't know you could look like that." You rolled your eyes and entered your room to get your bag.

You kinda had hoped Johnny would have said anything, but he kept quiet, much to your disappointment, but you couldn't change it. Yet it kinda hurt you, making you doubt for a second to actually wear the fancy clothes you picked out for tonight.

Maybe you should cancel? He surely made a mistake asking you in the first place…No, you told yourself, you'd go out and enjoy yourself.

That was tonight’s goal. With bag and shoes now gathered you exited your room and tried to push away the looming stress and nervousness inside of you.

"I'll be gone then; I hope you two will have a great night too." You said and looked at the two horse lovers who were seated on the couch, playing games.

"We'll be fine. Just remember, if he shows any red flags, or you get a weird feeling, call me and I'll come get ya!" Gyro said looking at you sternly.

"Don't worry, as soon as he begins to resemble you, I'll give you a call." Gyro needed a second before he got what you were implying.

Johnny snickered along.

"Well, I best be going then, until later!" And with that you left the room and consequently the apartment. "Man, you're really messing up your chance." "As if I ever had one." Johnny answered his friend and sounded defeated. You stood outside the restaurant, nervous, unsure if he'd actually show up.

"I hope you weren't waiting for too long, I'm sorry for my delay." A voice from behind you said and made you spin around, smiling once you saw him. Diego looked fine tonight, and you wondered how it came to be he asked you out of all people available to him.

You were bored out of your mind. Gyro and Johnny had been out riding for like one and a half hour already and they were still nowhere to be seen.

It wasn't their fault that you felt a little down today and therefore declined riding with either, so you didn't blame them.

You weren't big into riding yourself but coming with them to the stables, seeing them in their element and with Slow Dancer and Valkyrie and sometimes riding with them was such a highlight.

You loved how Gyro kept talking to his little "bella" as if she was his girlfriend and you loved seeing Johnny being happy while he rode on Slow Dancer.

But today... after your mood plummeted thanks to your feelings towards a certain blond rider, you rather sat in the shade near the stables and were on your phone.

To your surprise, some strange legs entered your view and in front of you stood Diego Brando.

You had heard of him, his reputation was that to thank for, and Johnny and Gyro had their run-ins with him and loved to rant about him.

"Hey there." You said unsure of what exactly would happen now. You looked around and only spotted a girl with short pink hair nearby.

"Yeah, hey. I wanted to ask if you'd like to go out sometime?" You sat there dumbfounded.

A popular, good-looking guy, many girls surely would die for, just casually asked you out, without having ever spoken a word before. You blinked a couple of times.

"Eh..." was All you could answer before you saw the chance this was. A date, with someone who seemed interested in you and might make you realize you never actually crushed on Johnny.

"Sure. Why not." You said and Diego looked pleased.

"May I have your phone to give you my number?" Slightly embarrassed you handed the man your phone who quickly typed something in with his none gloved hand.

"There you go. Send me a message later yeah, love?" His British accent did make your knees a little weak.

Mindlessly you tugged a lose hair string behind your ear and looked at the newly made contact of "Diego 🦖" while said contact began striding back to his friend, who you assumed must be Hot Pants, the guys had also told you about her.

Not too long after that, Johnny and Gyro were back too.

"Did ya get bored waiting for us?" Gyro asked as he helped Johnny unmount. "A little."

"Your fault for not coming along. We found a real nice new path near a small river."

"I'll come along next time, then you can show me, yeah?" You answered Johnny and decided to keep the thing with Diego for yourself.

You knew if you let them know now, they'd go on a rant of how horrible he is and how you should never even talk to him unless you want him to eat your firstborn or whatever.

They sure painted him like a horrible person but to you, Diego seemed a little charming almost.

----

#aint that a teaser?#do tell what you think and what youd maybe like to see happen #maybe ill include it if it fits the plot uwu #johnny joestar x reader #johnny x reader #jjba x reader

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sxugaryx · 2 months

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The doctor is in (Fanfic)

New chapter from my main series 🩷

Pinocchio was in the waiting room, he had entered first to the appointment and was now waiting for his father, it had gone well, but Pinocchio decided he didn't want to come back, talking about his feelings is really hard for him, it's easier for him to write them down and makes him feel better. Although the doctor did help, giving him some guidance about how to express his feelings better in his writing, they also told him that it could work for him to vent his feelings in drawings, Pinocchio thought about it and it did sound like a good idea, he was even doing it right now, drawing something in his sketchbook.

He finished the drawing, it did make him feel a lot better, he should write his feelings more often; his father was still in there, Pinocchio was getting bored, kicking his feet a little while sitting in the chair, he got up from the chair and decided just to walk around a bit.

“Pinocchio this is a hospital you can't walk around here like it's nothing” Gemini chirped from his cage.

“I'll just go outside for some fresh air and will be back in a minute” Pinocchio was sick of just sitting, his father was taking way too long, and more than an hour and a half had passed.

Outside Pinocchio did just that, just staying for a few minutes and going back, but on his way, someone came out of one of the rooms, they looked like a stalker, Pinocchio tried to just walk back but the stalker followed him.

“Hey, I've seen you before,” The girl said with a sweet tone.

Pinnochio is starting to feel like a celebrity now but unlike his uncle Venigni, he doesn't like all the attention.

“At the stable, I've seen you a few times but you were there recently, I'm glad that your pony has such a good owner, Applejack looks so happy with you” Blue Canary can recognize most people who have bought horses from her family, and she can remember almost every horse by name.

Blue also recognizes Pinocchio's face, he looks a little like Carlo, they went to school together, but being a year older she barely saw him. She is not going to mention that, she doesn't want to make him feel uncomfortable with a reminder like that. She did spar with him and Romeo that one time, they were amazing at fighting.

“You know my pony?” Pinocchio has never seen this stalker before at the stable, but it's not like he pays much attention to anything besides his pony when he is in there.

“I sure do, my family owns the place and we want to make sure all the horses get good owners, so all of us try to keep track since there are so many” Blue extended her hand for a handshake, “But where are my manners? I am Blue Canary, a Bastard stalker”

Pinocchio shook her hand, as usual trying to not apply too much force.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Blue Canary but this boy has to go back and wait for his father” Gemini was insistent, Pinocchio needs to remember that his father gets stressed about places like this.

“My apologies for taking your time” Blue is very polite, as her family has taught her, “It was a pleasure”

Before leaving, Pinocchio wanted to make her feel nice, so he made the stalker's promise, Blue was surprised but she smiled and did the gesture as well.

Pinocchio went back to the waiting room, just in time as his father came out of the doctor's office just a minute later. They exited the building together and since it was Saturday, they decided to spend time together outside as a family.

“So um father” Pinocchio wasn't sure how to ask, “Are you okay now?”

“Well son it's not that simple” Although Geppetto wishes that it was, “It's something hard you have to work for, like how you struggle with what happened when you were fighting”

Pinocchio then hugged his father, he wanted to give him more words of encouragement but nothing came to mind, he was a little afraid that whatever he said could come out wrong and make his father feel upset, so he hugged him tightly.

A little too tightly.

“Son…” Geppetto was struggling to get the words out, “I can't…breathe”

Pinocchio stopped and started apologizing, Geppetto caught his breath and composed himself.

“You are very precious” Geppetto gave him a faint smile, “Let's do anything you want today, you deserve it”

Blue Canary saw them as they were leaving, her small break was over and she needed to head back to Dr. Frederick's office. She saw a man dressed completely in black leaving the office, his clothes almost looked like alchemist apparel but that couldn't be right, all alchemists fled Krat after everyone discovered what they were doing.

“Keep staying outside, I will tell you when to come in if a patient is going to be difficult”

“Yes sir”

A few moments of silence passed, Dr. Frederick writing down a few notes and prescriptions.

“Miss. Cassandra, tell me, are you religious?”

“Yes, I am” Blue didn’t understand where the question was coming from.

“Would you mind accompanying me to the Cathedral tomorrow night? It’s the only time I can go and you know how dangerous it can be at night”

At night… She is a little afraid of the dark because of what happened years ago but she can get over it, she needs to, she is a stalker and has to be brave, plus she has her belt lights and her lantern shield can reflect the light of the moon and the doctor is right, it’s dangerous at night, just yesterday another dead body was found, the intestines had been taken out.

“Of course, I can sir” She exclaimed eagerly.

“Good, I understand that we mustn’t work on Sundays as written in the bible, but think of it more as enjoying the mass with me, although obviously, I do plan to financially compensate you” Frederick has that little stun memorized, it is so easy to trick religious fools.

Blue smiled, maybe Dr. Frederick can be a little intimidating but maybe that’s on her mind, he takes his job seriously and he is a man of faith and science, a good combination for wanting to help others.

“Now, my patient will arrive soon, so keep your guard outside, will you?”

Blue left the room and Frederick was left alone, he took a deep breath.

He needs to check the process of the experiment taking place in the St. Frangelico Cathedral, Frederick knows that doing their operations in a place as crowded as the Cathedral is risky, but the people of Krat are stupid, they still think Andreus is a martyr, not even knowing how his greed consumed him, or how it turned him into a monster.

And history repeats itself because the new bishop is accepting generous donations and they don’t ask questions about their activities, although there was that nun who kept staring at him that one time he was going to the underground area, but it’s just a dumb nun, she looked so clueless.

Frederick started cleaning his office again; he cleans his office five times a day, but another one could help and his patient still hadn’t arrived. People have no idea how easily dust accumulates, he hates dust more than anything, he hates uncleanliness. He had his doubts about hiring the girl as his bodyguard, but she is a clean person, better than most and she doesn’t complain when he makes her clean alongside him. He expected her to not even know how to pick up a broom, the Lucero’s are one of the richest families in Krat, more wealthy than his family.

The only people wealthier than them in Krat are Antonia and Lorenzini. Ugh, just thinking about them annoys him, Lorenzini is the richest and the most insufferable man in Krat, never knows when to shut up, always has to say how much of a genius he is, he has to be the center of attention everywhere he goes, why does anybody even like him? He can’t believe how many people are his loyal fans. Antonia on the other hand, that’s more than anything personal as the old woman has no idea of the gold mine that she has inside Hotel Krat, and he isn’t just referring to the gold fruitcoin tree, and what can lie in the Relic of Trismegistus, but all that knowledge hidden in what was once the underground section, the secrets of that now abandoned castle.

Not for long, as he plans to do something about that.

At least he can put Lorenzini in his place, Frederick doesn’t doubt that Arlecchino is already taunting him, it was easy to bring that stupid puppet back. He found its body in Arche Abby, the spear still stuck to his body and just as he suspected, as he was bound to it, it still held a little of his Ergo, and bringing him back was easy, in that state he wouldn’t be able to kill properly so sent one of his men to fix him up, he wonders if those engineers at the union had any idea of what they were repairing, if they knew how many would die by such a simple act.

Frederick knows better than to just let Arlecchino run completely free, so he is bound to him, he cannot harm him and to ensure his quiet, he did a little magic trick, he is physically unable to reveal anything about him. So Arlecchino is just wandering around doing his little art projects and the people of Krat are too busy focusing on that, its all the news is talking about, the gruesome murders, it's disgusting, not because he cares about those people but because that idiotic puppet is so messy with his deeds, when Frederick murders someone he knows better than to leave a mess or make a mess of any activity makes.

But a distraction is a distraction and progress is going well, Frederick knows that the experiment that lies in the cathedral is all but finished, but for now, he must wait until tomorrow to see that his expectations have been met and they better be, he would rather work alone this requires help and those other fools better not screw up this, although at least they are more loyal to him that they ever were to Simon, first of all, he is actually good at being charismatic unlike Simon who was an awful actor, people either followed Simon because they feared him or if they were delusional like Adriana and saw him as a god.

Second, his family. Generations and generations of doctors, people dedicated to helping others, even back when Krat was an unimportant dump. As for him, he has managed to make his family's name even greater, he is a true doctor. Not one that sells fake cures or promises you things will be okay, he is realistic and methodical, he gets the results, and because he puts those feelings aside he can always know or understand what is wrong with a patient, not to mention how most doctors tend to stick into one particular subject, on the other hand, he is constantly researching, why wouldn't he? It's part of his main goal.

Immortal Life.

Not the fake immortal life Simon was offering, Frederick knew from the start what Simon's true goal was, just after meeting Sophia Monad once, that girl was shining with power, and the way Simon looked at her, lusting over that power… and more than that. Valentinus was such a fool for not seeing the truth that was right in front of him. But it was clear as day Simon wanted to become a god and in secret, he found a few secrets about the man, secrets about his past, and it all made sense. At the very least Valentinus being a fool was what made Simon the new leader and all that data they collected while under him was extremely valuable in his research.

Frederick has no reason to become a god, he might be arrogant but not so much that it will be his undoing, not to mention how history proves time and time again that trying to become a god is something all humans are doomed to fail. Immortal Life on the other hand, now that's possible, has been done before, however, it tends to have its… drawbacks, what is the point of having an immortal life if you cannot enjoy it? Processes like that end up turning you into a monster. The philosopher's stone is different, special.

The man stood up for a moment, looking at himself in a pocket mirror, his green eyes shining brightly, his face already started to look younger and those tests were not even the real power, once he has the stone, it will reveal the true potential of the human body, what it can do beyond its limits. What the-

There was a knock on the door, his thoughts being interrupted as he let the next patient inside.

——

At the Bastard Stalker’s head office, some of them were giving their reports of their current missions, Blue had just arrived and showed how things had been going with her client.

“So you had to kick out a few rude patients and accompany him to a party? What hard work is the little princess doing” Said a woman with a Lion Mask.

“Not only that but he is paying you well, more than what any of us is getting paid” A young man spoke up, one with a Tiger Mask, “Aren’t you just so lucky? As if you needed the money”

“Um” Blue didn’t want to be rude to her superiors but she didn’t like their hypocrisy, “But all of us come from wealthy families, just as all other bastard stalkers”

“Watch your mouth Blue,” said a female voice, a stalker with a Sabertooth Mask got close to her, “Looks like you can’t take just a little bit of teasing”

Blue rolled her eyes, she wasn’t fond of them, “The Pride” as they called themselves, acting just as petty school bullies, as if they were dumb school popular kids, Sabertooth is their leader and her little followers are Lion, Tiger, and…

“Yeah, Blue you are no fun at all!”

Rusty. Because she has the mask of a Rusty Spotted Cat.

“I take my job seriously” Blue was frustrated, she even pointed dramatically at Rusty, “And why is this child a stalker again?”

The little girl was smiling under her mask, “Because I’m strong and capable, I think the little birdie is just jealous that I’m more skilled than her, afraid we might eat you?”

Again with that dumb joke.

“You always want others not to underestimate you Blue” Sabertooth had a smug grin, “Why is it any different with Rusty?”

“It’s clear that you are just jealous” Tiger Made a mocking voice.

And Lion joined in, “The horse princess is jealous, what a sight!”

“I’m not” Blue was furious now, “Being a stalker is dangerous and serious, a child shouldn’t be a stalker”

But they didn’t listen to her and just made fun of her again, they don’t care about being stalkers, they care more about the fame that comes with it. Blue can’t deny their skills and The Pride is recognized with good reason, yet if the public knew that this is how they acted they would lose their support. At the end of the day, they are just spoiled brats.

“Well here is my report, I must go back home”

“Be careful Blue, it’s dark outside, you better not start cowering in fear” Sabertooth mocked her one last time before she left, “Better not let the pretty ponies your family owns get too sad without you”

Blue Canary took a deep breath and left; the rest of them kept talking.

“You all heard right?” Sabertooth had a serious tone now, “About Red Fox and Black Cat going solo?”

“I always knew Fox was a traitor” Lion never liked her to begin with.

“Not only that but did you hear she disowned her family? It should have been the other way around” Tiger can’t understand why anyone would leave a wealthy family like the Volfe’s.

“All because of her dumb lost brother, how ridiculous” Lion was also in disbelief, how stupid, they must be struggling by themselves. But as it turns out, despite truly being a lost brother, the Volfe family refused to accept that, because confessing to an affair and a child as a result of that would be disgraceful to the family.

“I don't know guys…” Rusty said in a playful tone, “Maybe she was all lonely without a sibling, that's why she was too desperate to have one” She giggled and the others found it amusing.

“Dumb as she and her brother are, this is serious” Sabertooth grabbed her weapon and slammed it on the floor to make them get serious, even if she loves to mock others, now it’s not the time.

“They are going solo and doing well, not only that but that strange stalker with the Mastiff Dog Mask who recently appeared is neither Bastard nor Sweeper. This is bad”

“Bad as in how?” Lion wasn’t taking her seriously, “Only three of them, not a big deal”

“And they are doomed to fail” Tiger crossed his arms, “Only one ever worked out, the Legendary Stalker and no one knows where she is”

“Don’t sweat it Tooth, nothing bad will happen~” Rusty joined with the others, because she always joins with what the majority is thinking.

“That better be the case, although…” Sabertooth grabbed her blade again and examined the sharpness, “Perhaps we need to remind them why you don’t cross the Bastards”

—-

“Am I going crazy, Pulcinella? I heard him, it was his voice but that can’t be”

Pulcinella couldn’t hear the voice from the other line and it didn’t help that they hung up the phone as soon as the words were said.

“I am aware that the young master got rid of Arlecchino” Pulcinella was puzzled as well this shouldn’t be possible.

“Was it a prank call? But no one is supposed to know, it was covered despite my best efforts” The public is still not aware of the truth of his parent's death and after the frenzy happened, Venigni didn’t think it was a good idea to reveal the truth, considering the tense situation, he didn’t want any more hostility against puppets.

“If it was a cruel prank call, it must have been an alchemist, as they might be the only ones to know the truth” Pulcinella wants to believe that is the real reason, to think that manic is back…

“I know, I know that you are probably right but,” Venigni was shaking, “That serial killer that’s been out there, the one in the news, Arlecchino was a serial killer, he…”

Venigni was having trouble speaking this was too much for him.

“It might be a copycat killer”

But if it’s a copycat, how do they know the truth? How do they know that Arlecchino was responsible? Every possibility that has been suggested just gives them more questions.

“Maybe it was just the stress of remembering that night, maybe I really am going crazy but Pulcinella my friend please” Venigni grabbed Pulcinella’s shoulders, “Can you look into this for me?”

Pulcinella knows this will be no easy task, but anything for his master Venigni and this is personal to him as well, he won’t anyone torment him about this any longer.

“I will, you have my word that I will get to the bottom of this”

Venigni was still tense, he trusted Pulcinella but this entire situation was making him too overwhelmed. He even canceled all of his work duties, as he had a few meetings to attend, saying that he was feeling ill, although it was true, as this situation was making him physically sick.

“I also believe it’s best we inform Pinocchio of this,” Pulcinella said, “And Geppetto as well, but for now, please get some rest, for your own sake Master Venigni”

Pulcinella is right, it’s best that he just rests, maybe some beauty sleeping will do him some good.

#lies of p #lop #liesofp #lies of p game #lies of p fanfic #ao3 link #this is in ao3 too #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p geppetto #lies of p venigni #lies of p pulcinella #lies of p oc

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