#there might be something i missed in the steel but to be honest that was the least of my worries bc like fuck you that's a lot to dump on a
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I'm actually really glad that post is getting a lot of positive attention, bc I really needed that mood boost 😭
Walked into work to find I had EIGHT NEW ITEMS that dropped all at once (did they REALLY have to put everything on one truck??? 😭) AND I couldn't even work on them bc we had to do an audit
The audit wasn't hard, but I WAS irritated during it bc NewLady didn't ONCE ask if we needed help, or even what we were doing (if you see me not in the kids section it gets questioned. Like the last time I had to do hardlines and my delivery friend was like ???) But yknow we weren't in HER area so it didn't involve her apparently
But I guess they're going to do her area overnight (thank god) and I think she's coming in to do it. Whatever as long as I don't need to do it bc i was dreaaaading even talking to her let alone have to "mess up" her area during the audit
Anyway all that left me in a super cranky ass mood and I'm ngl I'm kinda anxious ab the new items bc where the fuck am I supposed to put them?? (I mean I have the SPACE but I don't have enough to keep brands together and put out everything thats new. Like ALL the spring Sharter's are in now 😭 why all at once... whyyyy) so seeing other people's crabs and seeing mine getting love really was a welcome sight 😭💕
#marquilla#i think it's 3 new Sharter's. 2 new licensed shit (god help me) and 2 new pj sets and 1 new playwear set I THINK#there might be something i missed in the steel but to be honest that was the least of my worries bc like fuck you that's a lot to dump on a#full time person let alone someone only there 4 hours 😭 like hello?? wtf???#i was LIVID i wanted to tell rc to just have NewLady do the audit with her so i could stock but she'd kill me agsgdgdgdg rightfully too#she did offer to help me (after the audits) so that was nice but 😩#im praying that two are the next endcap items so i can like leave them in the steel while i work on the others but still... fuck man#i wanted to quit gegdggdgd like i know no one expects me to get it all out in one day but... overwhelming#ANYWAYS sgdgdggd
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Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Hobie Brown x Spider!Reader)
Summary: When Hobie hasn’t seen you in a while, he starts to come to the realization that he might be missing you for the wrong reasons. So when you come back, all those feelings reasons come bubbling up to the surface.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: MINOR SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS
A/N: This kinda took a mind of its own, but I LOVED writing every second of it. Hope you enjoy it!! ☺️
Request by @its-me-ig-101: I was wondering if I could request for you to write a fluff Hobie Brown x GN reader, where the reader visits Hobie in his universe, or reverse? (Kind of like what Gwen does)
It had been 127 days since he last saw you,
14 since you last spoke.
It wasn’t like he was counting or anything. Nah…no he was completely able to be his own person. I mean, he had a whole Earth to protect as Spiderman.
But if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think four months apart would take such a toll on him.
You both were just always together. It didn’t cross his mind that there could be more than two to three days of you being away…from him especially. Gwen always joked about how quickly you both became so close so quickly. How Hobie was usually a steel trap and you were the key.
And he couldn’t even visit you! You were away on Spider business! Miguel had you consistently going after anomalies. It didn’t help that you had an insanely good success rate. Hell! Hobie couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t catch one of the anomalies!
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon! This is the ultimate test before the big question! Will their relationship prevail over this unexpected test?!”
Pavitr placed his hand on his chest, spinning around before collapsing onto Hobie's bed, where he was currently lounging. His fingers fiddled with his watch, flicking through all the channels. Maybe if he clicked on the right one, he would end up on the Earth where you were. Miguel had stopped telling him what Earth you were visiting, knowing he would just tag along. But Hobie could come up with something on the fly, he didn’t give a damn at this point if Miguel was pissed at him for interrupting your mission.
He would like to see him try and keep you from him any longer at this point.
“Hello, Earth to Hobie. Hey!”
Catching the plush that Gwen had thrown at him, he huffed and sat up. Pav smiled when he caught a glimpse at Hobie’s watch, and the roulette wheel of universes were still going.
“ Dude, they’re fine! (Y/N) is like…an invincible spider.”
“You know why he’s being more quiet than usual! He’s realizing he’s in looove. Our Hobie is head over he-” A well shot pillow from Hobie landed Pavitr on the floor.
“Am I not allowed to miss a friend? I remember ‘ow upset you were whenever you’d talk ‘bout Miles.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. He smirked when he saw how red Gwen’s face got.
“Ooooh we’re starting to enter the grumpy Hobie stage!” Pav shot up into a sitting position, this time dodging the second pillow that he had thrown.
Scoffing, he waved his hand at them as he pulled his phone out of his pant pocket. Unlocking it, he scrolled through his photo album and sighed.
They always teased him like this when he was down in the dumps. It had just been more recent as of late, seeing as you were rising in the ranks. Meaning you were gone more and more.
That also meant your friendship was tested more and more. He had noticed the change, he wasn’t completely blind to his emotions. He had noticed that as of late whenever you were gone he got a bit more snippy, and a bit more cynical-well more cynical than usual. Some had even told him that his color seemed more drained the longer and longer you were away.
This time had just been the longest. But it was also the most eye opening.
It's odd how you don’t notice how consistent someone is in your life until they’re gone.
He was mindlessly scrolling with a thousand yard stare off into the distance, when his phone suddenly anchored him back to reality.
Specifically your text tone.
Flicking to his messages, he felt his heart rate pick up.
(Y/N): heey! im finally back!! i missed you (cry emoji) (heart emoji)
Before his head could reminisce on the heart emoji and brew up any meaning behind it, he heard Pav gasp. Quickly looking up from his phone, he saw Pav squeal in excitement and Gwen chuckle as she shook her head.
“Look at him G! Do you see how much brighter he is? Ugh! Our boy has it bad.”
Sliding off his bed, he grabbed his bag and mask. Both Gwen and Pavitr could see that there was some pep in his step as he slung the bag over his shoulder. Fastening his web shooters on, he slid his mask into his pocket before entering your Earth into his watch.
“Oh oh! Where you heading Hobie? Thought we were having some serious bro time!”
Flicking them off, Hobie felt the portal open below him. Glancing through, he could see the flickering lights of your Earth.
“Piss off.”
Jumping through the portal, Hobie braced himself as he felt a quick rush before landing on your bed. The flickering and crackling of the portal remained only for a second before it snapped shut, dropping everything in the room along with its departure.
You stood in the opposite corner of the room, barely even unpacked. Your bag sat at the foot of your desk, unzipped with some of your clothes spilling out. You must’ve just texted him, because you were still in your spider suit…with one of his jumpers on.
Turning around, a smile spread across your face in an instant. Whatever you were doing was soon abandoned as you ran towards him. He was quick to stand, enveloping you in his frame. Feeling your aura mix with his, as he buried his nose into your hair felt nice. It awoke whatever nerves that had gone into hibernation after your departure, activating his senses once more.
Because he became highly aware of how right when you entered his arm, the hairs on yours stood under your suit. Your heart rate calmed but also picked up. Hell, he could even feel the blood rush to your cheeks as you buried your head into his chest.
“You really did miss me aye?” He teased, pulling you back by your shoulders to get a good look at his face.
“Mmm, only like…thiiiiiiis much.” Holding up two fingers, he watched as you held them close together and very very slowly pulled them apart.
“Oh wow, and here I was in absolute agony.” He hummed, sitting on the edge of your windowsill.
“Oh really?” You laugh, leaning over him. He looked up at you, nodding as he placed his hands in his pocket.
“Absolutely, almost died.”
Watching you laugh was something he knew he needed. It wasn’t too hard, at least for him. Your back and forth quips and teases were something that usually ended in you laughing or him chuckling. Inside jokes and knowing stares were usually exchanged to test the waters whenever others were around. It happened so often people usually felt excluded whenever you were both in each other's presence.
It was something he didn’t know he could miss.
“Wanna go for a swing?”
Watching the way your eyes lit up, he knew he had his answer.
Slipping his mask on, he was quick to open your window. He knew you were right behind him as he swung into action.
This was a dance you both did whenever you visited his world, swinging between buildings and each other. Finding ways to play off the others webbing and moves.
He loved watching you swing and flip. Hearing you laugh as you gave him a heart attack with how close you’d like to fall before yanking yourself back up into the air.
He felt a rush of similar emotions in the two weeks of you going dark. Whenever it was just him alone in his room, his mind would wander. He knew that if anything had happened he would have been the first told, both a blessing and a curse. But it still didn’t stop him from…worrying.
When did his worry for you become such a crutch?
Reaching to your normal hang out, what was atop your Statue of Liberty (which was still bronze here on your earth), both of you sat atop her torch. With shoulders touching, he watched as you leaned back and looked at your city.
“So, how many anomalies did you catch on this little spree of yours?”
With a big sigh you ripped your mask off and stuffed it into your-no, his jacket pocket. Bringing a knee to your chest you placed your cheek on it as you looked at him.
“Twelve. Probably the most in a row.”
Tisking, he leaned back on his hands now as he also took his mask off.
“Wow, remember which ones?”
“Most of them were Vultures. They were the only ones that could reach the portals that opened in their respective worlds. I might as Miguel if I can take a break though.”
That piqued his interest. But he didn’t show a reaction, in fact he just hummed and watched as you put your forehead to rest on your knees.
“I appreciate how much Miguel…trusts me to keep the multiverse intact, I really do. I went through hell with his stupid tests in order to get into the Spider Society and its…its lead me to meet some of my favorite people but recently I've been more Spider than Person…”
Hobie sat up now, putting his elbows on his knees and smirking. He knew what you needed to hear in this moment. He knew you like the back of his hand, in the year that you two have gotten to know each other it is safe to say he almost knows you better than he knows himself. The same could probably be said about you knowing him.
“Favorite people aye? Where do I fall on that list?”
Watching you lift your head to give him a quick glance, a small smile graced your lips before you lifted your head fully to clear your throat.
“Atleast top…let's say ten? There's a lot of competition BB.” You chuckle
“Oh yea? That jumper you’re wearing says otherwise.”
Your eyes grew almost as wide as the lenses on your mask as you looked down. Your hands gripped the edge of the jacket for a moment before shoving into the pockets.
“Oh I uh…yea I dunno what to say…”
The gears were turning in your head, he could tell. Something was brewing.
“..y’know I didn’t even realize I had packed this until I was subconsciously putting it on the first night. I'm being dead serious when I tell you I only ever took it off whenever I was about to go into battle…I didn’t wanna ruin it.”
He smiled to himself listening to your words. Something similar to what was brewing in your head was brewing in his chest.
These past few months, more specifically the past two weeks where you couldn’t contact him, there was a confession building. Words that were just waiting in the dark until he was at his most vulnerable to come into the light were bubbling up in his throat. The only thing keeping them from spilling right at this very moment was the seal of his lips.
It was nice, having you back. But all these realizations that he was having just in these last few days, especially now in these moments he was sharing with you, told him all he needed to know.
Especially with those words that you had just said to him, he knew his realization was not far from out of the blue.
“ Y’know those two weeks were you went dark were ‘ell. Pav and Gwendy were up my arse the entire time. It irked me how well they read me those two weeks..”
Watching you grow still and turn towards him, and sighed before turning towards you as well.
“I'm sorry about that Hobbie…my communicator died and Miguel told me I wasn’t allowed a new one until I finished my assignment. Which made everything so much harder to do since I had to wait for texts from Lyla and code instead of her just being able to talk me through it.”
“I knew it ‘ad to be somethin outta your control…and I also had a keepsake that ‘elped me keep my cool.”
Pulling back his cuffs, an array of bracelets both woven and made were on both of his wrists. They were all yours, but ones you hadn’t seen in a while and ones you were sure you had left on your desk before you had left.
What he couldn’t show you was the shirt he had of yours that was also on his pillow. He had it for the same reason he was sure you had his jacket for the entire trip…
Though it was starting to lose your scent.
There was a comfortable silence, at least he hoped there was. He could barely tell based off the thumping of his heart…
When he finally made eye contact with you, he saw a dopey smile on your face. It made him smile too. No matter how long you two were apart, no matter how raw the two of you got it never changed anything.
Well, he hoped nothing would change after what he was about to do.
Hobie wasn’t scared of a lot, practically nothing. But you scared the ever loving shit out of him. Both with all the stunts that you pulled and just the way you made him feel. He used to be this hardass corruptor but now? He wasn’t sure what he was without you.
“Hey Hobie..”
“Yea?”
“You should totally kiss me right now.”
“Yup.”
His hand fit perfectly on the crook of your neck, and so did his lips with yours.
Whatever you were feeling spilled into him, and he with you. A full year's worth of pent up emotion exploded into the kiss as he seemingly took your breath away. In recent months he could only imagine how your lips would feel against his, but it was nothing compared to what he was experiencing right now. Yours and his molded together in a flurry of silken passion, fitting together perfectly just like he knew they would.
Your hands found their place resting on his cheeks, just as his found theirs. With one resting on your neck and the other finding its way onto your side to pull you close. So close that he could feel the drum of your heart match his when your chests collided.
He wanted to curse whatever being made it so that the human body needed oxygen. When you pulled away his lips followed yours in chase, and it wasn’t until you held his face in place so that your bruised lips could take in a breath. Your finger ran over his bottom lip, playing with his lip ring as he panted in time with you.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that…how..how being away from you for so long made me realize that's all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I ‘ave an idea.”
His hand that rested on the edge of your neck came around to hold your throat, with his fingers resting on your pulse.
It was going a mile a minute just like his.
#hobie brown#hobie brown x reader#x reader#across the spiderverse#marvel x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader#into the spider verse#spiderman x reader#spiderpunk x reader#spider punk#spider!reader
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Sanemi X Fem Reader
Sanemi and you rarely ever talk but somehow he knew you where the one but the thing is the only person that he liked was friends with the person he hated most TOMIOKA GIYUU! what will sanemi do?!
<3 p.s: sorry for the writing founts changing it just started to do that random and enjoy! <3 (030)
The most annoying thing about you was that you were friends with Tomioka Giyuu, Sanemi thought as he stole glimpses at you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't stand that guy. The way he looked upon others was always from a superior point of view. The way he talked, rarely and unbothered, was always a favor for anyone who could hear him. You were the same, somewhat worse. On top of all of Tomioka Giyuu's flaws, when you would open your mouth to talk daggers seemed to stab him. You were brutally honest when provoked by him and almost too sure of your own strength. The big difference, however, was that Shinazugawa Sanemi wanted to kill Tomioka for his attitude, while he wanted to fuck you out of it. Sanemi was mad that you always spent your time with tomioka it pissed him off. The only girl he was interested in spent time around the person he hated most. But he was mostly jealous HE had everything Tomioka did. And today he was going to steel you back from Tomioka. But the thing is He never really knew how to talk to you. Granted, he would never act based on his feelings or let them show in any way. He admired you for your strength as well as your beauty. While he did respect you as one of his fellow Hashira, his eyes would always slip down your body, too weak to resist the way your uniform fit on your curves, the soft skin of your exposed neck or your long hair that always smelled like summer flowers. He would soon fight with himself to stop staring at you, afraid that someone might notice. He would always find moments when he was sure no one was looking, not even you, to see from the distance how bad your injuries were after a mission and he would try to find out if you were fine from the people at the infirmary. But he would never tell you. You rarely ran into each other because of countless missions back to back, both of you being Hashira. You worked on your own most of the time, backed up by lower ranked demon slayers or alongside Tomioka on tougher missions, simply because you got along very well. You and Shinazugawa met occasionally in training, although rather seldom, and during the official meetings at the Ubuyashiki manor. He felt the need to get closer to you, but he didn't have the means to do so. So he resorted to what he knew best, attacking Tomioka indirectly, knowing that you won't miss the chance to step in and try to outsmart him with another witty remark. Most of the words exchanged between the two of you were on a passive-aggressive tone and he was certain that his feelings, buried deep inside his heart, were concealed by the well-known rivalry. But he liked that in a girl he like a girl that had an attitude.
As you where talking to Tomioka. Sanemi was ease dropping. As he heard Tomioka say
"Hey y/n would you mabey like to go out with me sometime?" Tomioka said.
This pissed sanemi off so bad he had to so something...
"Aww Tomioka that's so sweet, Ye-" y/n was cut off
" NO SHE WOULD NOT' sanemi stepped in
sanemi then pulled you away from Tomioka and started to cuddle you like you where his and no one elses. You did not really like sanemi I mean he was always mean and hateful. The only time you talked was either arguing or for missions. But as you looked up at him cuddling you you felt something... No you couldn't you where failing for Sanemi Shinazugawa! no no no no he was just a friend and not even that. But he did have good looks, and a soft voice (at times), a perfect body, cute hair, big purple eyes, an attitude... then you realized mabye Sanemi was not as bad as you thought..maybe just mabye he was the one for you.
" Sanemi! what are you doing" you said pushing him off of you.
" Your mine understand" he said
all you did is nod your head. Wait did this now mean you and him where a thing!
"Sanemi are me and you umm "Dating"?" you said looking up at him
"If that means Tomioka will stop hitting on you then yes we are!" he said slightly smiling.
A few mouths have passed and ever since Tomioka has not bothered you as much. And you where starting to think he was the one you wanted to have by your side forever and always. you wanted to marry him at the least so you made you happy little way to him and asked him
"When will you marry me!?" you said.
" W-What" he said
" When will you marry me!" you yelled all the other hashrias hearing you.
"Ohhh~ sanemi can get bitches" Tegean said.
" INDEAD HE CAN" Rengoku said
" I want to get married Sanemi!" you said.
" Okay Okay not today though" he said
" YAY YAY YAY" you said as you hugged him.
(Part 2 where Sanemi proposes to you?)
#sanemi x reader#sanemi shinazugawa#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi#shinazugawa#Tomioka giyiuu#demon slayer#kny x reader#kny#kny ships#kny x y/n#kny x you#idk what the the fuck I'm doing with my life anymore man#i kinda like this one#Jk I LOVE THIS#Sanemi is HOTTTTTTTTTT
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I’m gonna be honest, I thought going into Winter 2023 that this was gonna be a bit of a dump season. One of those seasons where anime just kinda sits around farting and we all wait patiently for the actual Good Shit to start coming out again while pretending to catch up on our backlogs.
That... has not been the case.
Bofuri Season 2: Seriously, how does this show get so many incredible action cuts?
Buddy Daddies: Look, it’s probably not gonna be gay, but Spy x Family meets Tiger and Bunny is something we all need in our lives, okay?
Campfire Cooking in Another World: Couldn’t even last a full episode of this one before my eyes glazed over. Dropped.
Endo and Kobayashi Live: Now this is pretty charming! Pity the animation’s such garbage, though.
Giant Beasts of Ars: It’s a damn good season for fantasy anime, y’all.
Handyman Saitou in Another World: Could actually end up a halfway decent isekai SOL if it stops being so goddamn terrible at structure.
High Card: This is exactly my brand of Anime Bullshit(tm) and I am so on board.
Ippon Again: An actually great female-led sports anime? With major A Place Further Than the Universe vibes? Do not sleep on this one, y’all.
Kaina of the Great Snow Sea: Damn. Good. Season. For. Fantasy. Anime.
Kubo Won’t Let Me Be Invisible: As far as Takagi-san knock-offs go, this one is pleasant enough.
The Magical Revolution of the Oh Fuck It These LN Titles are Impossible to Remember Just Call it “MagiRevo”: Buckle up, folks, we might just have another Actually Good Isekai on our hands.
Malevolent Spirits Mononogatari: It’s Noragami but shit. Dropped at 1 episode.
Nagatoro-san Season 2: Yeah, turns out I’m still not above the occasional well made trash.
Nier Automata: Genuine question, is this gonna be an acceptable substitute for the game or will I just be spoiling the experience for myself?
Onimai: I fucking hate the Mushoku Tensei studio so much and I hate myself even more for deciding to stick with this one.
Reborn to Master the Blade: This one might be soon for the chopping block, but I’m holding out hope that its story can overcome its middling production values. We’ll have to wait and see.
Revenger: GEN UROBUCHI’S BACK BABY YEEEEEEHAW
Sugar Apple Fairy Tale: Take notes, Every Isekai: this is how you explore slavery in a fantasy setting.
The Tale of Outcasts: Feels like a 13-year-old’sedgy Ancient Magus Bride fanfiction. Honestly, though? I kind of really dig it.
Tomo-Chan is a Girl: LET. TOMBOYS. BE. TOMBOYS. WITHOUT. SHAMING. THEM. FOR. IT. Dropped at episode 2.
Tokyo Revengers Season 2: At this point, I’m just watching out of morbid curiosity of how bad the manga’s ending supposedly was.
Trails of Cold Steel: The Northern War: Easily the weakest fantasy anime of the lot. Giving it one more episode to impress me, otherwise it gets the drop.
Trigun Stampede: Y’all are buggin, the CG here is incredible.
Tsurune Season 2: Good god, the glow-up from season one is nuts. KyoAni just does not miss.
Vinland Saga Season 2: Okay, manga readers, let’s see if watching a bunch of sad men farm is as incredible as you say.
#anime#the anime binge-watcher#tabw#winter 2023 anime#trails of cold steel#sugar apple fairy tale#onimai#nier automata#tokyo revengers#the tale of outcasts#ippon again#bofuri#buddy daddies#giant beasts of ars#revenger#kaina of the great snow sea#high card#handyman saitou in another world#endo and kobayashi live! the latest on tsundere villainess lieselotte#tsurune#ijiranaide nagatoro san#reborn to master the blade#kubo won't let me be invisible
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Northanger Abbey Readthrough Ch 25
Catherine might have missed like 99% of Henry Tilney's flirting, but she has an inkling it has happened, maybe, "He had—she thought he had, once or twice before this fatal morning, shown something like affection for her."
Which is why I love this meme so much:
Again, Catherine touches upon Marianne Dashwood behaviour but she just can't really commit, "But now—in short, she made herself as miserable as possible for about half an hour, went down when the clock struck five, with a broken heart, and could scarcely give an intelligible answer to Eleanor’s inquiry if she was well." However, by the end of the evening and with Henry being kinder than ever, she has recovered. she had nothing to do but to forgive herself and be happier than ever; and the lenient hand of time did much for her by insensible gradations in the course of another day. She does indeed bounce back quickly!
Catherine reflects that in England at least, the type of villains described by Mrs. Radcliff must not exist. She doesn't go so far as to pardon France and Switzerland from containing such evil, but she's pretty sure about her own country. She also believes that while Henry and Eleanor may not be perfect (never!), she's certain that General Tilney has some "specks" in his character. Well you've come a long way girl, we won't ask for more just yet.
Murder was not tolerated, servants were not slaves, and neither poison nor sleeping potions to be procured, like rhubarb, from every druggist.
Quick, someone tell Shakespeare!
Now Catherine's thoughts return to Bath, but she has no news. Her faithful friend has proved unfaithful again: But Isabella had promised and promised again; and when she promised a thing, she was so scrupulous in performing it! Oh Catherine...
Not as bad as her brother though! Poor Thorpe is in town: I dread the sight of him; his honest heart would feel so much. Honest heart! That man doesn't have an honest cell in his entire body! I would have more hope for James if we knew he finally figured out John, but the only hint we have is this: the failure of a very recent endeavour to accomplish a reconciliation between Morland and Isabella. So James and John met again and John tried to get them back together, but whether James rejected both siblings or just one is unknown.
I really feel for Catherine here, she has to sit through breakfast trying not to cry, then cannot return to her room because it is being cleaned (bedrooms in this era were mostly for dressing and sleeping, so she wouldn't be expected to use her room again until 4pm*), tries the drawing room only to discover the Tilney siblings, but then they kindly leave her to herself. Catherine needs another half hour (her magical sad-feeling time) before she can face them.
This line from Catherine is so very Jane Bennet:
"Could you have believed there had been such inconstancy and fickleness, and everything that is bad in the world?”
What a stroke was this for poor Jane, who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here collected in one individual! -Pride & Prejudice, of Wickham
The poor girls, having their eyes opened to the wickedness of the world.
Then this part:
This post by Fira Wren playing in my head. His kids know the General is full of it. Eleanor is surprised her older brother has fallen in love, since it seems he never has been before, which again has Henry Crawford vibes.
No, not very. I do not believe Isabella has any fortune at all: but that will not signify in your family. Your father is so very liberal! He told me the other day that he only valued money as it allowed him to promote the happiness of his children.” The brother and sister looked at each other.
Now the reason that Isabella Thorpe would lose in a battle to the death against Lucy Steele and Lady Susan is that she didn't keep her first man secure until she had the next engagement entirely locked down. Rookie movie Izzy! I have too good an opinion of Miss Thorpe’s prudence to suppose that she would part with one gentleman before the other was secured. Isabella just could not manage two men at once.
I love this interaction:
This line from Catherine too, "I never was so deceived in anyone’s character in my life before.” and Henry's response: “Among all the great variety that you have known and studied.” has so much in common with this interaction in Pride & Prejudice:
“But perhaps,” observed Catherine, “though she has behaved so ill by our family, she may behave better by yours. Now she has really got the man she likes, she may be constant.”
“Indeed I am afraid she will,” replied Henry; “I am afraid she will be very constant, unless a baronet should come in her way; that is Frederick’s only chance. I will get the Bath paper, and look over the arrivals.”
“I did not know before,” continued Bingley, immediately, “that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”
“Yes; but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.”
“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.”
“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.”
Henry also manages to tip us off about his intentions to marry Catherine right under Catherine's oblivious nose!
"Prepare for your sister-in-law, Eleanor, and such a sister-in-law as you must delight in! Open, candid, artless, guileless, with affections strong but simple, forming no pretensions, and knowing no disguise.”
“Such a sister-in-law, Henry, I should delight in,” said Eleanor with a smile.
Catherine also realizes that she feels much less sad about losing Isabella than she thought she would, which Henry tells her to think about. The falseness of Isabella's friendship is dawning on Catherine, perhaps now just unconsciously.
*Quote illuminating this point from Wives & Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell, spoke by a character who would have been young during the Regency era: 'No, no, Cromer: bedrooms are for sleeping in, and sitting-rooms are for sitting in. Keep everything to its right purpose, and don't try and delude me into nonsense.' Why, my mother would have given us a fine scolding if she had ever caught us in our bedrooms in the daytime. We kept our out-door things in a closet downstairs; and there was a very tidy place for washing our hands, which is as much as one wants in the daytime.
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Blossom
ship: what do angels dream of (adriel x angeal)
source: final fantasy vii
word count: 859
A FIC based on that thought I had trying to fall asleep last night. (Just in time for Bee to finish her own fragrance fic XD)
Time to look for one irl I guess. 👉👈
tag list: @dearly-beeloved @camellias-and-coriander @rebel-wolf13 @edencantstopfallininlove @mahitoslittlebird @goldenworldsabound @sunstar-of-the-north @sosoftandsweet @dorothys-wife @faerie-circle-ships @kylars-princess @little-miss-selfships
The idea was fleeting at first.
Just an idle thought born of the not-uncommon romantic fantasies that accompanied Adriel in his everyday routine. Married life, though not having been especially long so far, had done nothing to deter those fresh-crush-like feelings of romantic ideation. On the contrary, it seemed, at times, to only have made them stronger.
As he sat, filling out his logs for the week, he was once again taken by the pangs of romance.
‘But what if I…’
- - - -
Ordering the fragrance had been a split-second decision, an impulse purchase done on his phone at work. And each hour after made his stomach twist with apprehension, as one would feel preparing to confess their feelings to a crush.
The day it arrived, he had thankfully, in a benevolent twist of fate, been the only one at home. The box sat on the coffee table for a few moments as Adriel paced, self-doubt settling in with the nerves.
Would he like it? What if he thinks it's dumb? He didn't want to humiliate himself - if the gesture were to prove embarrassing…
No. Angeal was his husband, his sworn life partner. He would never make Adriel feel bad for an honest attempt at being romantic.
Steeling himself with a deep breath, Adriel finally opened the package, staring down at the charmingly chic glass bottle inside.
It took an even bigger attempt at steeling himself to actually pick it up, increasing in difficulty until it finally sprayed upon his neck in a fine mist.
Freezing, he dared not inhale, suddenly apprehensive that the scent wouldn't be what he had been looking for. But even as his breath held, the gentle, floral scent permeated his senses. He wasn't especially familiar with the scent in question, but this was… Pleasant.
And so he waited, stomach and heart fluttering in unison until the two leaped as the door finally opened.
“Not too late, am I?” Angeal asked apologetically as he closed the door behind him.
Adriel immediately stood to greet him, helping him shed his jacket as doting wives were wont to do.
“Not too much, it's okay,” he breathed, his nerves easing by a margin just seeing his husband after a long day.
“Hm. Good. I hate leaving you alone, you know,” Angeal, once free of his snow-covered coat, offered his wife a smile.
As Angeal leaned down for his welcome home embrace, Adriel’s heart skipped a beat. This was quickly washed away in the wake of the pre-embrace kiss, soothing him as it transitioned into a tight hug that had Angeal leaning to bury his face in the crook of Adriel's neck.
There was no reaction at first, the fragrance taking a moment to register. But as soon as it did, Angeal froze with a sharp inhale, holding Adriel for a few beats more than usual.
“That's…”
“D-Do you like it?” Adriel couldn't help but blurt out, eager now to receive a reaction.
Pulling away finally, Angeal questioningly blinked down at him.
“I do, yeah. Did you-?”
“Mh,” Adriel nodded shyly, before looking down at his feet, “I wanted to wear something nice for you. And I thought since…” a shrug, “Apple blossom might be… ideal…”
Angeal looked incredulous for a moment before he chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his lips.
“Oh my angel, you really are determined to get me to fall more and more in love with you every day, aren't you?” Angeal delighted in the blush and squeak the comment rewarded him. Once again, he pulled Adriel into a tight embrace, taking a deep breath to take in the scent. He was overcome by nostalgia for a moment, exhaling slowly through his nose as he buried himself in the warmth of his wife and the scent that stirred his heart with a range of emotions, “It's beautiful, I love it. It suits you well,” as he sighed once more, content, he placed a kiss to Adriel's shoulder and then one on his cheek as he straightened himself.
Adriel let out his own sigh, placing a hand upon Angeal's chest and looking up at him in adoration as a shy smile formed.
"I'm so glad you think so. I was worried it'd be a bit…"
"Too romantic for words?" Angeal returned the smile, his notably more playful.
Adriel scoffed, flustered before averting his gaze once more.
"I- I was GOING to say trite, but if that's what you think then…" he trailed off before his smile returned back upward, "I'm happy."
"Well, so am I. Very much so. Like I said, it suits you. I guess I'll have to take you out more if it means you'll wear it for me, hm?" Angeal teased again, bumping the bottom of his wife's chin.
Adriel squeaked, eyes widening.
"But that's-!
"No trouble at all," Angeal finished for him before letting out an amused huff, "Besides, your ideas of a good time are hardly expensive."
Muttering, Adriel refused eye contact again, "If you think so…"
"Maybe I'll even let Genesis drag us out to see Loveless next time. Show those upper class thespians some real charm."
"Ah! No, wait-!"
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New Fic: Iron and Satin, Silk and Steel (1/26)
Title: Iron and Satin, Silk and Steel
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Pairing: Gale/Lae'zel
Rating: Teen
Summary:
“I took my pleasure from the wizard last night.”
“And he survived?”
The evolution of the unlikely relationship between Gale of Waterdeep and Lae'zel of Crèche K’liir, from uneasy allies to steadfast lovers
Notes: OH HEY I'M FINALLY POSTING BG3 fic (first of many!)
#
Every muscle in Gale’s body hurts.
A number of years—almost two decades if he’s honest—have passed since he last had actual physical sex. Sex with his body, rather than with his mind and his entire being and soul. Based on what he shared with Lae’zel last night, he doesn’t think he’s missed much.
Not that that kept him from blurting out a question this morning about making love again in the future. Love. Right. There wasn’t the hint of love or tenderness in their coupling. Just roughness and desperation. She might never admit that, but the desperation was there, seeping out of both their skin.
And yet…
To be reminded that his body is capable of more than pain and destruction, almost seems like a gift. To have his skin marked by something other than the orb, by scratches and bruises, makes him lighter than he’s been in days. Weeks. Almost years.
Even if he might never be able to walk again.
Read the rest at Ao3!
#baldur's gate 3#gale of waterdeep#lae'zel#gae'zel#hippo writes fanfiction#hey look I broke out#my old way of formatting fic#for tumblr#posting like it's 2013!
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Ferelden Silver
(Arianwen Tabriz/Zevran | 2035 Words | AO3 Link | CW: blood, implied canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort)
“I say the name and what it means
until the meaning blurs.
The wind blows through the goldenrod
like death flows through a crowd.
Nothing is accomplished
and the world is changed by it.”
—Ian Parks, “Goldenrod”
“Honestly?” Zevran said, resisting the urge to clutch at the awful ache in his shoulder. “I’d rather take my chances with you.”
The Warden crouched before him, twisting a bloody knife between her knuckles. Zevran could not tell if her goal was intimidation or if she was simply thinking. He was hoping for the former, to be honest. It would be somewhat flattering if she still saw a point in trying to intimidate him after she’d stabbed him in the chest and knocked him to the ground.
“Can I expect the same loyalty from you?” she asked, voice disinterested.
Silver, red, silver. The dagger and the blood coating it flashed in the merciless sunlight. He wondered whose blood it was, then decided he’d rather not think too hard about it. The Crows lying dead in the Ferelden dust around them had not been his friends. Rivals, perhaps, if even that. No—Zevran did not care whose blood coated her blade, her cheek, her armor, so long as it was not his.
How odd, to realize on the edge of a knife that one did not wish to die after all.
What to do, what to do? The Warden—the woman, the one clearly in charge here—had not so much as blinked at his offer to warm her bed, nor any of the other things he’d offered. She had to want something. Didn’t she? Everybody wanted something.
“I happen to be a very loyal person,” he assured her, “up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing.”
She cocked her head, eyes suddenly intent on his. She had looked like that before she stabbed him, he seemed to recall—like a cat who’d seen a bird on the other side of a window. Braska.
“That’s not a fault, really, is it?” he went on, pointedly not looking at her dagger as it flashed end over end between her fingers. “I mean, unless you’re the sort who would do the same thing. In which case, I…don’t come very well-recommended, I suppose.”
Too much; he was talking too much. He had been told plenty of times that he did not know when to shut his mouth, and this was no exception.
Except—except she spoke almost before he’d finished his sentence.
“Very well. I accept your offer.”
“What?” the other Warden asked, rounding on her.
The one who’d been speaking stood slowly and met the man’s eyes as he spoke. Even then, the dagger twisted on between her fingers
“You’re taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?”
“We need him,” the woman said.
Zevran might have said she sounded disinterested again, except there was a layer of steel beneath the words that made him want to sit up straighter. Need him, she’d said. Well—there were worse things to be than needed.
Zevran hauled himself to his feet while the second Warden went on grumbling. He tried to dust himself off to little avail. Ferelden dust did seem to enjoy clinging to one’s skin and clothing, to say nothing of the blood caked onto his skin. When his boot scuffed the earth, she turned to face him at once.
He did not miss the way her fist curled tight around the blade she’d been playing with. One little noise and she was already prepared to fight again. He would remember that, he decided, and recalled the way her eyes had sharpened when he’d spoken of loyalty. Perhaps this was something Wardens were especially interested in, being mysterious fanatics. He had been looking for leverage, for something to move her with.
“I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you,” he told her, managing only the slightest of bows given the wound on his shoulder, “until such time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation.”
The Warden looked sharp again, no longer removed from the situation. Her eyes, he realized, were neither brown nor green, but neither and both at once. Zevran decided that she was not like a cat at all. No; she reminded him of nothing more than a wolf peering into the night, the flash of gold in the shadows that let one know that the hunter was allowing itself to be seen. She looked like a warning given hands with which to fight and teeth with which to bite. He needed to be very, very careful if he was to turn this into something better than the Crows had been. He needed leverage, every piece he could grasp, if he was going to make it out of this in one piece.
“This I swear.”
One of her hands drew a cloth from a pouch at her belt and ran it over the blade quickly and thoroughly. Nobody else said anything at all.
“Come on, then,” she said, sheathing the dagger at her belt. No words of acknowledgement, not so much as a nod. Zevran hardly knew what to think.
“Wait,” he said, when he companions turned to follow her. The Warden half-turned, red and white cloth held in her hand.
“Having second thoughts?”
“No—no, of course not,” he said. It took more effort to be charming right now, when the throbbing in his skull had spread to the knife wound in his shoulder. “I wished only to learn the name of the lovely Warden I’m to be traveling with.”
One dark brow arched at the words. He rather got the feeling that she was unimpressed with him. Ah, well. He supposed he couldn’t win everyone over in ten words or less, and truly he was not doing so poorly when she’d been on the verge of killing him at first.
“Arianwen,” she said, and her knife made a soft snick when she slid it home in her belt. “Tabris. Not that it matters. Come on, Crow. We’ve miles to go yet.”
|
“If I had realized what lengths it would take to get you back to my motherland, I would have gotten myself captured years ago,” Zevran informed his lover—no, his betrothed now, impossible as the epithet felt.
Arianwen cast him a look, which he chose to interpret as harangued adoration. Despite the amount of healing that had been applied to his body, moving still hurt a great deal. For now, he contented himself with lounging against a pile of pillows and watching her. A dagger twisted between her fingers now, flashing silver in the noontime sun. She sat on the windowsill and had done so for the past half hour, watching the street outside. Zevran knew that she was watching for any pursuers, but he saw the faint smile at the corners of her eyes now and then. She liked it here. He was certain of it.
“Or you could have asked,” she told him.
“I could have,” he allowed, shifting on the pillows. Something tugged beneath his ribs, but he hid the wince behind a smile. It did not help; his Warden was far too canny to miss his discomfort. The knife slid back into its scabbard soundlessly. She slipped from the windowsill, landing almost soundlessly, and prowled closer.
“But it would have spoiled the fun of watching you drop from the ceiling like some sort of vengeful wraith,” Zevran went on, moving the sheets aside so she could check the bandage around his ribs for the hundredth time today. “Truly, you were like something out of a tale.”
“How flattering,” she said flatly. She checked his bandages nimbly, neatly dodging the worst of his hurts. “Have you ever heard of flirting, Zevran? You might give it a try sometime.”
“Bah,” he said, glancing down with disinterest when his wound was bared. “You fell for my charms eventually, did you not?”
“Please,” she muttered. Her hands were sure on a jar of salve, careful over the place where the bruises were darkest on his chest. Zevran waited, brows raised, and she cast him an irritated glance.
“It wasn’t charm at all. It was you, you fool.”
“Ah, but I am your fool,” he told her, wincing when he leaned forward enough for her to wind a fresh bandage around him. Her breath stirred his loose hair when she reached around him for the other end of the gauze.
“And I am yours, it would appear.”
Zevran coughed around the thickness in his throat and settled back onto the pillows when she’d tied off the last of the cloth. She lingered, one hand resting on his shoulder. All at once, there was something horrible in her expression. Zevran recognized it—had turned the same on her more than once, had seen her like this only a day before when he’d woken.
Mortal fear—the gripping conviction that that which one held most dear had almost been lost in an instant. Yes, he knew it very well indeed.
“Do not, mi vida, do not,” he said, and his hand found hers over his shoulder. “I am here, yes? And I will remain your fool for some time yet, as long as you will have me. There is no need to storm through the streets of the city again, I promise you that. ”
Zevran thought she would tear herself away, would dart back to the windowsill and put herself out of his reach. Instead, she took a sharp breath and bent to him until her forehead pressed against his.
“I’d do it a thousand times over,” she said, her voice low. Their hands twined together. “I’d do worse to keep you safe.”
“I know you would,” he told her, all joking set aside. He lifted his arm, ignoring the pull at his wound, and rested his hand over the curve of her skull. “But I am perfectly safe. I am here with you now, yes? Come—let me show you.”
“You are not well enough for that,” she said sternly. Zevran laughed until it hurt too much to keep doing so—not very long at all, if he judged correctly.
“I ask only to hold you,” he told her. “You have my word.”
She unfolded herself from the edge of the bed and rested against him for a time, her breathing even. He could feel the attentiveness in her body even as he began to doze. Always alert, his Arianwen. He could not think of anyone he’d rather watch over him while he was incapable of protecting himself. She would do worse than fell a building of Crows to see him safe and she wouldn’t regret it later. Zevran knew this without needing to ask.
“Arianwen?” he murmured, when he could no longer ignore the tug of sleep.
“Hmm.”
“I am going to be the best husband. I swear it to you. You will see.”
The Warden snorted. Her head rested more fully against his shoulder. Usually, she would wrap an arm around his waist or simply lie atop him. Zevran already looked forward to feeling this again, when they had been apart for so long. As soon as he was healed, he reminded himself, fighting a yawn.
“Do not laugh. I have made a…most solemn oath.”
“Not yet, you haven’t.” Her lips were cool when they pressed against his neck, but they warmed him nonetheless.
“I have,” he dragged his eyes open and tilted his head to look down at her. “I will again. I hereby pledge—”
“Shush,” she said, untangling their fingers to press a finger to his mouth. Zevran kissed it. “Go to sleep. You need to rest.”
“I am your man,” he told her, half-smiling when she growled in response. “Without reservation.”
“And I am yours,” she said. “Yes, yes. Save it for the ceremony. Go to sleep, Zev.”
His limbs felt heavy, but Zevran lifted his hand to find hers again. She caught his palm and kissed it, exactly as he’d wanted. Safe—yes. He was safe so long as he could feel her there. Without reservation indeed; the years had stolen any that might have remained to him. There was nothing left but trust as deep and integral as his bones. If she was here, he was safe; he knew that as well as he knew his own hands, his own heart.
“If you insist,” he murmured. “My Arianwen.”
(For Zevwarden Week Day 3: Fear and Safety. Thanks again @zevraholics for organizing this!)
#zevwarden#zevran x tabris#zevran x f!warden#blood cw#hurt-comfort#arianwen tabris#zevwarden week 2023#shivunin scrivening#da fanfic#canon-typical violence
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Team Rancher - Guide of Canon - Tango Episode 3
Notes on the episode below the cut. Don't hesitate to add anything that I missed.
Guide of Canon: Team Rancher
Tango's Episode 1 - Tango's Episode 2 - Tango's Episode 3 - Tango's Episode 4 - Tango's Episode 5.
Tango Episode 3: CHAOS FROM THE DEPTHS!
This episode starts with the boys lamenting about their torn-up and burnt ranch.
“Are you still angry?” Jimmy asks, in a matter-of-fact manner, just curious.
“It’s all gone! it’s all gone, Jimmy!”
“It’s all gone! We’re gonna have to take this down, dude.”
“We do, we do.”
“We still got the animals, which is good.”
“Some, some,” Tango says, as the goats are dead. “So we still qualify as a ranch, we did some rework.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“I’ve had time to reflect on the... events that transpired. I’ve calmed my rage and, well I’ve devised a plan.”
They go to the pen to discuss the plan. Scar's horse is still there, after everything he’s done because it was stolen, he didn’t even take it.
“I could flint and steel and go over there - they have a very flammable base, right? But I don’t think that’s good enough and I think that lacks a little originality, if I’m honest, right? Well, I was thinking, you know… Maybe they need a certain visitor to visit their new little base over there. What do you think?”
“Us. Us visiting.” Jimmy is already heading towards the gate of the pen.
“No, no, no, no, no, no. A visitor that lives much deeper, down below.”
Jimmy looks at the grass. “Wait you don’t mean-”
Tango is nodding enthusiastically.
“No you don’t mean the- !” there's more and more excitement in Jimmy’s voice.
“I do! Yes I do!” Tango says, grinning.
“How?! How does that even work?”
“We’re making it happen. I have very scientific plans laid out. We’re gonna make happen. There’s gonna be tunnels, and waterways, and elevators and uh, mh hm. ”
“I- right. You organize this. When it’s ready to rock and roll, you come get me.”
They plan their session. Jimmy wants to raise the walls. “A little more anti-Scar,” Tango calls it.
*
Tango prepares everything for his plan. He needs a nametag, especially. Bdus tells him that Etho and Joel have one. They go to the Relation and look through the chests. They get it.
“Hey, what do you need a nametag for?”
“Nothing at all! Everything is fine! We’re definitely not doing something horrible, and mischievous and… vengeful.”
“Uh, oh.”
Etho comes back home and he and Tango chat as they get the wool from the sheeps. Tango butters him about “relieving” him of a nametag by saying that Etho likes chaos.
“Let’s just say that your nametag donation will greatly increase the chaos of the server and lead to many many laughs.”
“I think I can part with it then.”
Tango gives him an IOU in exchange.
*
Tango is choosing his spot to dig and talking to himself. He refers to it as “deploying the package” and “where the package will be delivered.” He’s right to use a code name because Ren hears him talking and asks him about it. They are both on shady business, Ren waiting to “receive a package”. They decide to go separate way and never talk about this again.
*
Tango digs near spawn, on the side of the Red Velvet Keep and then right next to their base for the “delivery system”. When he makes the water tunnel, he keeps spawning wardens inadvertently. Once everything is ready, Tango deliberately spawns them in the ancient city. He has issues putting the nametag on them though.
*
“What a beautiful house,” Tango says as he comes back home. Then, “Hum, I’m not gonna lie. I might have peed myself.”
He’s happy to tell Jimmy his plan is a success. He explains that now, they just need to refind the hole in Grian and Scar’s base, put water in it and then the water will appear after a couple of minutes.
When they hear the warden coming up, they leave giggling. They send a message for Scar to come home.
In a creepy deep voice, Tango proclaims, “Emerge, my child!”
They start screaming and running when the warden gets to the surface.
“Flee with extra flee!”
“Run! Tango, run!”
*
“Jimmy!!” Tango calls.
A ominous grunt answers him.
“That’s not Jimmy.”
*
Jimmy is screaming in the distance.
“Tango, where are you?!”
“Jimmy!”
They sound the horns to find each other on top of the snow pic. They try to locate their warden. Scar did not come home and the beast is going in the other direction. They are a bit disappointed.
Other people come by. They pull the warden to the ranch.
“This backfired extensively. He's at the ranch!”
“Guys, what are you doing?”
“This is the worst timeline!"
They wait for him to blast one of them, but he’s coming after the ranchers. The warden is booming the cows.
“Tango, this wasn’t the plan.”
“No! This is backfiring!”
“He’s stuck in our ranch!”
“But I’m not gonna lie, I’m enjoying it.”
They follow it as it runs after other people. Scott’s relationship ranch and the huge R above it come into view.
“Oh, Tango, I’ve got to tell you, there’s a fake ranch.”
“Tear it down," Tango replies immediately. "Imposter Rs!”
No one dies to the warden and it ends at the bottom of the ravine.
#Guide of Canon#GoC: Team Rancher#trafficblr#double life#team rancher#rancher duo#solidaritek#jimmy solidarity#tango tek
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Cycle
(Tw: death, grief, generally being really fucking sad. Because of course I did)
It had been a very long day.
Days like these usually were. It hadn't even had the decency to be the appropriate weather; no dreary greys in the sky, no puddles from a slow, chilly rain, not even a peep of distant thunder. The sun was bright, the sky was brilliant blue and clear save for a few fluffy, insulting clouds, the air was calm, and
He wasn't there.
Leon would've loved to prod him about the sour expression on his face; he'd gone to such lengths to look the part and the weather had so thoroughly refused to cooperate. So much black under bright skies clashed horribly with his complexion, he looked like a damn ghost under warm sunlight, to say nothing of the awful effect that light had when it hit the inevitable twin trails of mascara.
There had been plenty of funerals behind him--a musing he would only ever make in private--and there would likely be plenty more. He always wondered if he would stop attending one day. Mourning was a messy process and he'd much rather have it out in the comfort of his own home, cuddling his puppy and making a terrible mess of her fur, and not wasting perfectly good makeup on an ugly cry. Funerals were miserable, dreary affairs, even if there was occasionally a big raucous wake at the end. That part was nice, but there was always the bit afterward, when everyone went to sleep or went home, and it became even more obvious who hadn't gone with him, and it put an awful pall over the remainder of the evening, like morning breath after a night of tavern crawling.
Elegant, dark cloth hit the floor in a rumpled pile, and he thought fondly of what someone might say when the shoes gently thunked on the rack in the oven, but
He wasn't there.
And for a few hours, that was all. It was quiet in the apartment, aside from the puppy's claws clicking on the floor as she trundled along after him, and refused to leave him alone. It was a terribly familiar habit, and that really made it all so much worse. He reflected, during one of his quieter moments, that he should've seen that coming. But then, he'd spent so long avoiding making those little mental connections, lest they become vocal ones, and if they'd escaped from his traitorous little mouth, Leon's face would've done that terrible thing where it became a mask, and he would've kicked himself the rest of the day, and
He wasn't there.
Eventually, the mail came. Probably the afternoon delivery, but it might've been the morning. He'd drawn the curtains and hadn't bothered to open them yet. Tossing the pile onto a countertop, he almost missed the plain brown envelope they landed on.
It'd been pressed into his hands after the procession. He'd almost forgotten about it entirely. The little crow's-head wax seal over the flap tempted him to try and forget about it again, but he knew that wouldn't have been fair. So, steeling himself, he broke the seal, and tipped the contents onto the countertop.
A little piece of something clattered onto it, but knowing where--and whom--the parcel had come from, he went for the letter first.
"Diva,
"I'm sorry. I know there's nothing to be done about it, but nonetheless, I'm sorry that I couldn't stay. I hope that I managed to be one of your favorite chapters. Failing that, at least one of the most interesting, the way I'd once said I aimed to. And if I did... I'm sorry for that, too. But if you were honest about anything, I hope the bit about loving to return to those chapters was one of them. Nothing would please me more than to know that I can still be responsible for it when you smile, even if you're cursing at me through your teeth when you do. Perhaps, sometimes even especially when you're cursing at me. We both know I'm a little shit, but you liked that, too.
"Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for letting me love you. Thank you for taking care of what I can't anymore. Thank you for forgiving me my humanity. Thank you for letting me know you.
"I look forward to seeing you again, however long that takes.
"Yours,
"Leon Elroy Ambroce"
The little piece of something took a bit of unwrapping, made more difficult when he had to keep pausing to wipe his face. Eventually, he revealed his prize: a carved stone crow, nestling comfortably in his palm. Its cool feathers were ablaze in bands of shimmering green and flecks of blue. And...of course Leon had; there was another, much shorter note attached to even that.
"I always liked your window the most"
The next morning, the little crow caught the sunlight beautifully from its perch on the windowsill.
( @celedyn for mentions and ease of yelling at me)
#my writing#leon#celedyn#a look into the future#I might've made the mun cry#I'm only a little sorry#yes I know I'm going to hell
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Difficult darling
I don’t condone abusive relationships
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Shinazugawa Sanemi X Yandere GN Reader
Tw: mentions of manipulations, gaslighting, and kidnapping
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
He is much harder to manipulate. He is a sharp one, very defensive, and is too aware of intentions. Much too aware. Trying to make him believe you without much thought is going to be an uphill battle.
He doesn’t share his past and he certainly refuses to talk to his brother, so using Genya for information is out. Even if you can use Genya, his information might be outdated or over exaggerated.
The amount of time it takes to even get him to trust you is a time and a half. Months of dedication is needed and possibly infinite amounts of patience.
Then again, taking him for your own IS an option…….
No no no.
He is a hashira! He can’t go missing. It would be too suspicious. Why does he have to be so difficult?
You are so damn close to pulling out your own hair
He is too familiar with the workings of manipulation and gaslighting, he notices if you are getting too familiar with him, he can sense you when you stalk him, why did you fall for such a difficult man?
He keeps such an even temperament and face whenever he finds your gifts, there is no way that you can just win him with simple flirting and gifts. There is no way that he is that simple to win over. Not when there are more girls and guys staring him up and down like he is a piece of meat when he isn’t paying attention.
Perhaps if you say that you like him to his face, it might get something from him? So, steeling your resolve , you will be trying that simple method.
The next time you saw him, a week had passed. He was talking to another hashira, one you didn’t care for. Their conversation was a long one, but when the hashira left, you took the opportunity.
Pulling him into the alley you were in, you held his wrists tightly.
“The hell? What do you want?”
“I like you and I wish to romantically woo you.”
His face turned bright red. Almost as red as the blood you normally see in the bandages of his. He freed one wrist, just to rub the back of his head
“Wouldn’t someone else be better? Rengoku? Obanai? Hell, Tomioka? Why me?”
You took a bit to think, best to speak honestly but not to honest
“Well-“
“Quiet.” He sighs “look, I don’t know why you like me, but if you really want to try, go for it. Don’t be too shocked if I don’t act all Lovey dovey and sweet.”
It’s that easy.
It was THAT easy.
Why the fuck did you not do this earlier?
#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#sub demon slayer#kny x yandere reader#demon slayer x yandere reader#yandere reader#kimetsu no yaiba sanemi#sanemi shinazugawa#demon slayer sanemi#kny sanemi#sanemi x reader#Sanemi x yandere reader
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Just read through the hunt tag, and I feel like wukong chasing after erlang due to stopping macaque's chase would just do the opposite effect of wukong's goals and increase erlang's hate boner. The more proof wukong still wants macaque, the more he hates Mac, and the more yandere he gets about the fact he was rejected
"...his attempts are getting worse," macaque murmurs, brow furrowed as he flexes his hand where it hangs off his bent-up knee. his head is ducked and his back presses against the cool, rocky wall. "this is your fault."
wukong, who'd been in the middle of charming their hiding spot in a forest that miraculously exists in one of the biggest sinkholes in the land, snaps his head to look over at macaque with wide-eyed offense. "how is this my fault? because i'm trying to protect you?"
"no one asked you to do that!" macaque practically cuts him off. his voice violently ricochets off the towering stone walls.
wukong blinks rapidly, taken aback. macaque quickly absorbs his reaction and drastically reins his voice in. he heaves an annoyed sigh.
"that fucker sees it as you still wanting—caring, about me."
he doesn't miss how wukong seizes slightly, the slight thinning of his lips. more than anything else, it pisses him off. like he could ever rely on wukong to talk about his feelings or be honest about anything. macaque wants to wash his hands of both of them—him and erlang.
"are you stupid?" he reams mercilessly. "do you know what kind of target even the pretense of that puts on my back?" pretense, implication, front, because wukong doesn't care about macaque. he doesn't want macaque. he never had, and anything that might've said otherwise is a lie. his voice quiets but still remains just as severe, vague, sour notes of hurt underlining it. "erlang will never stop if he thinks you still—still—want me or something." he glares at his fist clenching over his knee.
silence pervades over the sinkhole cave. it's long enough that wukong should've said something by now, but he doesn't, and macaque becomes increasingly uncomfortable and agitated.
wukong doesn't care about him; macaque has no idea why he's going so far to protect him from erlang. please, the guy who murdered him once upon a time fending off the guy who wants to murder him now? it's preposterous. just absolutely fucking asinine.
when he finally can't stand the silence anymore, he snaps his head up with works ready to leap off his tongue to stab wukong with. he stops short when he sees wukong standing taut, shoulders hunched and fists clenched until his knuckles are whitened. he sneers.
"what, still hate the thought of me?" he hisses. "good grief, all you have to fucking do is say so instead of standing there looking like you need to shit yourself."
wukong snaps from whatever stressed reverie had him leashed and glares at macaque. macaque snorts, although he stifles the shiver of anxiety threatening to roll over his skin from that steel, angered look.
"might as well let erlang kill me. at least we won't have to do—" he gestures at their damp surroundings, lush as they are, "—this anymore."
"would that be so absurd?" it's wukong that practically cuts macaque off now, which takes macaque off guard. his brow furrows.
"what are you—"
"if i still cared."
macaque's voice catches painfully in his throat, so sharp that he almost chokes on it. he gawks at wukong a long moment before breaking into a sardonic, cold laugh.
"what, you care about someone other than yourself?" his barked laugh is almost hysterical. "always the comedian, wukong!" his voice then trips into clipped, chilled words. "aren't you just so. fucking. funny."
wukong stares right back at him, seemingly undaunted. his eyes roam macaque's face, but when it looks like he doesn't find what he's looking for (or maybe he does, and he hates it—unsurprising), all the tension bleeds from his body with an exasperated sigh.
he turns back to the cave at large, resuming his ministrations of protective spells and glamours. macaque breathes a shallower, quieter sigh of relief from being released by that... that look. he's seen that look before—oh, is he so familiar with it.
he knows that wukong knows he can hear him, but wukong mutters to himself anyway, "why do i even bother..."
exhaustion weighs in it enough to make macaque cringe, but he abstains.
why, indeed.
#ask#anonymous#shadowpeach#lmk macaque#lmk sun wukong#lego monkie kid#the hunt of the little sage#mickey's ditties#me who hasn't written for 3 days: ok let's make a banger#my bedtime is soon besties i'm saur sowwry
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Interlude of Kin
Hello darlings! Today's story was brought to you by Kaitlin! Darling, thank you so much for all your support!
Prompt: Death’s Disciple
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“When you said you wanted to speak to me, this isn’t exactly what I anticipated.”
Saevus Cruor, the High Templar. The Right Hand of Death, considered the bodies on the floor, and reluctantly admitted to himself that their presence didn’t cast him in the most ideal light.
Then again, Kellis was the niece of his dead wife, and she had certainly seen him do worse during her service as a Governor.
“They were blasphemers to the Undying One,” he told her darkly, and pressed a button on his desk before he guided her into his personal sitting room. Body disposal was a part of their faith and they were familiar with his office. He might be a monster, but he did his best to honor his wife’s memory by looking after her family. These days, that meant keeping an eye on Kellis during her terms of service to her planet. “Spreading propaganda against His Devotion.”
“You realize that killing them isn’t actually the most effective way to deal with that?” Kellis said dryly, a veteran of his renowned temper and secure in the knowledge that he would never actually harm her, even in a rage. Her mother did not trust him, or his control over the dark power he commanded, but Kellis had known him since she was small. She remembered a time when their family had been happy. “The more of theirs you kill, the more their drive to rebel grows.”
“Do you know something of this rebellion?” It was a very dangerous conversation to be having, even here in his quarters. Saevus warded the chamber with a flare of deep, red power that sank into the walls. He immediately missed the deep chime of the engine-song, but it was more important to ensure that there were no others listening to their conversation. “Even I will find it difficult to protect you if you have fallen into such dangerous company.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” Kellis said, honest in a way that made many of the Holy Governors uncomfortable. She rarely bothered to disassemble, and thought dishonesty was the lowest mark of a weak personality. “But no, I haven’t heard anything but the usual grumbles whenever you go on one of your famous massacres. Remind me of the latest one?”
“They were trafficking information that could have put the Temple Fleet at risk.”
“Ah yes. So you painted the walls with their blood. Of course. A deserved response.” Kellis snorted and pulled off her heavy robes of ceremony with a sigh of relief. The dress she wore beneath was ornate, but cut for comfort, not show. Her boots, Saevus noted with distant amusement, were flat-soled. She must have been speaking to the whole congregation of Governors. It required hours on her feet and Kellis hated to stand in heels for so long. “And the ones in your office?”
“Were foolish enough to believe my faith could be shaken.”
“Oh. Well, if they were rebels, they weren’t exactly bright ones, were they?”
“No. I would say they were not.”
He was rarely without his armor, but he did remove his helmet. It was forged of heavy steel and left deep grooves in the table when he set it aside. He ignored the scratches. The table was scarred many times over, lighter wood visible through the gouges in the dark stain. It gave him some small measure of amusement to treat the table so poorly. Wood was immensely valuable, and a luxury aboard a starship. Even here, on the Death’s Hand, the capital star-base of the Temple of the Undying.
Saevus was the Right Hand of Death, in the service of the great Undying One who led their Temple and presided over the faith that bound their great government together. When the Undying One gave a command, it was Saevus who took that command and flew to make it true. He was the fist that crushed blasphemers and rebels. He searched out those who would defy the Holy Will, and gifted them the peace of the dark beyond.
If his name was whispered with fear, well, all to the good. Fear was a powerful right hand of faith. He did not mind being feared.
Now, of course, there was another task to hand. One that was more personal, and, although he would never admit it aloud, more important. There were very few who knew that Kellis’s mother was the sister to his lost wife. The relationship they presented to the public, one of cordial friendship, was more than he allowed almost anyone else. The shadow of his reputation prevented a great deal of the treachery that many would risk against a clever pollical opponent like Kellis.
They were almost never in port at the same time. She of course, was part of the Holy Governance, and he was mostly off working for the Temple, dealing with rebels. On the rare times they were on the same ship, he always tried to have dinner with her, to ensure her safety, but also because he enjoyed her company.
She did not fear him, and he hoped she never would.
“I am leaving,” he said, and went to his sideboard. Kellis was young, but old enough to drink, for all that she still had a young woman’s fondness for lighter, sweeter wines. He poured a glass of her preferred vintage, and one of the harsh liquor of the Reaches that he had never quite given up. He handed over her glass and took his customary seat across from her. Kellis took a sip and stayed silent, willing to hear him out. It was not the first time he had to leave on short notice. He never failed to warn her when he would be away. “I will be gone for a long while. I do not know when I will return. The Eternal One has decided that my presence is needed to stifle the rising heresy of the free worlds.”
“I hate it when you go off to kill people,” she said unhappily, and kicked off her shoes. “Uncle Hedis, will you at least try to show some mercy?”
Saevus let the use of his birth name slide. Kellis would never have used it if she hadn’t seen him ward the room. She had no magic of her own, but she trusted his. This privilege, that of his name, was one granted only to her and her mother. One last honor to the wife he still loved, many years after her death.
“I will show mercy as I am able,” he said with some reluctance. It was a scant promise, and they both knew it, but it was the best he could give her. The faith that ruled him did not allow for mercy, particularly to heretics. More often than not, the only mercy he could give was that of a swift, clean death. It was better than many of his officers, who enjoyed the spectacle of a slow death at their feet. Not, of course, any of the ones who served him personally, but he was known for preferring efficiency over sport. “Do not ask for what I cannot give.”
“I won’t. I know the Temple doesn’t allow much,” Kellis said bitterly. Like all politicians, she honored the Temple that allowed the galactic government to exist. She attended services, sang songs, and said all the right things to those who might notice a slip in her faith. Saevus did not chide her for her anger. It was, after all, one of the Temple’s core tenants. Fury guided the hand. He knew that better than anyone. Most often, it was hisfury that guided the Temple’s forces against any threats to arise against them. “And I know that you’re kinder than most. I had to put a boy out of his misery last week. He was angry at his place in service, and one of the young officers decided to take his complaints as a challenge to the Temple’s authority.”
“Which officer?” Saevus did not allow the Temple’s doctrines to be used by those with power against those without it. Yes, there was a certain sadism that was encouraged, but it was to be a disciplinedsadism, and it was always to be in service to the Undying One. “I will see to it.”
Kellis didn’t enjoy violence, but she hated injustice and she wasn’t above naming names. “Lieutenant Thantin of the Curse.”
Saevus knew the name, as he knew most of the newer officers of the fleet. Being a mage of his power came with a requirement for a nearly perfect memory, and he applied his to his troops. If there was a problem among the officers, it was for him, as their highest commander, to stamp it out. The Holy Fleet was only as strong as its officers, after all, and corruption was a disease that was difficult to stamp out.
Not that the Temple wasn’t rife with corruption, but then, rooting it out was one of his many duties.
The trials of his life as the Eternal One’s right hand.
“Are you going to kill him?” Kellis asked curiously. She sat back on the couch. Her makeup was beginning to flake, and her hair was coming out of the involved style she favored. She had ben working hard lately. Saevus reminded himself to send a message to her mother, suggesting that Kellis get an aide, or at least that she take a few days during the next Governance break. She was only twenty, and she worked too hard. “Thantin I mean?”
“Will it bother you if I do?”
“Yes.”
He had expected the answer. Kellis didn’t care for killing, although she was reasonably willing to do so if the need arose. They worshiped death, after all, although some worshiped the Journey Beyond less than others.
“I will attempt to correct his behavior without lethal consequences,” he compromised her preferences with his own. They both knew that he might well need to kill the man in order to demonstrate his displeasure with the behavior in question, but for her sake, he would attempt to solve the problem in other ways. “I will speak to his commanding officer and perhaps he may be educated.”
Kellis still looked dubious, but that was normal for these conversations. Saevus gave her time to come to terms with his probable actions. He appreciated that she was good, and kind at heart. It was not an advantage among the cruelties and backbiting of the government, but Kellis had long ago learned to barricade her good heart against the realities of their faith.
Very few people lasted more than a solar year in their government unless they were willing to immerse themselves in the darkest parts of their political goals. They did not have a kind faith. Balanced and fair, yes, but not kind.
“How long until you fly out for the Reaches?” Kellis asked after a while. Saevus accepted the change of subject willingly. They both knew how he was planning to handle the situation. His mission to deal with heretics in the Reaches was a safer, and more comfortable topic. “Will you be gone long?”
“I am unsure,” he told her honestly. He stood to pace, always more comfortable on his feet. His chest ached with the pain of his long illness, but that was as normal as their weekly visits. He put the pain out of his mind, and worked his mind over the many spell-arrays that were carved into his armor. Deep lines of gold wire followed cuts that shaped out runes and linked circles that created the many spells he employed in combat. There were more on his sword, to ensure his weapon never failed him. “Weeks, certainly. Months perhaps. It will depend on whether or not the heretics have the sense to attempt to hide from me.”
“If they’re smart, they will.”
“Heretics, in my experience, are rarely intelligent.”
She conceded the point with a wry smile. “I suppose that’s true. Will you be back for the Rising?”
It was the Temple’s biggest holy day, and Saevus was, of course, significantly involved in the proceedings. It was his duty to attend all of their holiest days. The ceremony was tiresome, but unavoidable. He preferred to worship in private when he could, although it was not always possible.
“There is no telling,” he admitted and genuinely hoped the answer was no. “I have been dispatched to settle some difficulties.”
“Rebels, heretics, or pirates?”
“Some of all of them, I suspect. Most of any of those tend to share traits with at least one of the others. We are also seeking new Death Roads.”
Kellis sighed and tucked her feet up under herself. She was very young, he noted to himself as he often did when she came to visit him. Their cordiality in public was the best protection he could give her, and he had broken a few necks in the early days of her Governance, just to make the point. The lesson remained one that was firmly associated with her reputation.
“How long are you in port?” she asked softly and gave him a fond smile. “I do miss you, for all your massacres.”
“I miss you as well, dear one,” he allowed the small affectionate only because it was true and because the room was warded. She had been a sweet child, and grew into a sharp-tongued, clever woman. “Another week, I believe. While you are in port, I should like to introduce you to someone. My new Master of Engines.”
“Is it a political introduction, or a personal one?” She gave him a side-eye and he stifled a smile. Her mother told him in her last letter that Kellis pronounced herself far too busy for romance. “I am not looking for a boyfriend. I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”
“And I would never disrespect you by trying something so obvious. Lux Abiit is seventeen. He could use a friend near his own age and I trust you to neither treat him cruelly, nor break his heart.”
Kellis paused between sips of her wine and considered him closely. For a moment, he saw the ghost of his wife in her eyes and carefully kept that thought behind his teeth. Kellis would not appreciate the comparison, even if it was meant as a compliment.
“The Master of Engines, on our most powerful ship, the flagship of the whole fleet, is seventeen?” she asked skeptically. “This is one of those uncanny moments you have where you can hear thoughts, isn’t it?”
“I have never been able to hear thoughts. You know this. Before you ask, I cannot see the future either.”
“The way you play cards makes a liar of that statement,” she muttered resentfully, but smiled. “So why him?”
“He is extraordinary in the engines. More interestingly, he uses hand-signs in place of spell circles.”
It was, at the heart of things, the most important point about Lux Abiit. Despite common knowledge, the use of hand-signs was not unknown in the Temple. In fact, Saevus could use them himself, although he rarely did so. It was more curious that a boy raised on a worthless dustball of a planet knew them. Saevus was curious.
Kellis tilted her head. She had seen him cast with hand-signs on rare occasions, but it was tiring and he preferred to use circles. She knew it was a rare skill. She also knew that he appreciated competency, and was perhaps a little too invested in the engines of his great ship.
“Fine,” she agreed finally. “I can’t promise we will be friends, and I might smack him if he flirts with me.”
“I think he will not. I suspect he prefers men.”
“Suspicion or proof?”
“Suspicion. He also seems to be rather in love with the Death’s Shrine.”
“Well, at least he has good taste in women.”
Now he did chuckle and leaned over to refill her wine. “He does. Now, tell me of your work. Your mother worries, and I would know which lies you have told her before I speak to her again.”
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Death's Disciple
Destiny Wakes
Crafter’s Hands (Subscriber Only!)
Signs of Magic
Captain Conundrum (Subscriber Only!)
Engine Song
Interlude of Kin (New!)
Family Introduction (Subscriber Only!) (New!)
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MASTERLIST
#Writing#writing prompt#story#novel#romance#love#spilled ink#spilled writing#spilled romance#spilled feelings#writeblr#lee hadan#LGBT#inspiration#long post
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Northanger Abbey Readthrough, Ch 5
Mr. Tilney is still missing! He is not to be found at the theatre, the pump room, or out of doors. However, according to the narrator, this absence is very clever of him:
This sort of mysteriousness, which is always so becoming in a hero, threw a fresh grace in Catherine’s imagination around his person and manners, and increased her anxiety to know more of him.
Also, poor Isbella keeps dropping hints about James, She liked him the better for being a clergyman, “for she must confess herself very partial to the profession”; and something like a sigh escaped her as she said it but Catherine has no idea what she is hinting at! The fact that Isabella wants "delicate raillery" reminds me of Anne Steele from Sense & Sensibility:
Miss Steele wanted only to be teazed about Dr. Davies to be perfectly happy. (Ch 34)
Mrs. Allen is highly gratified to find friends that are shabbier than her in dress! But she and Mrs. Thorpe hardly ever actually talk to each other, in what they called conversation, but in which there was scarcely ever any exchange of opinion, and not often any resemblance of subject, for Mrs. Thorpe talked chiefly of her children, and Mrs. Allen of her gowns. If you want an example of Austen actually writing one of these conversations down, check out the "bragversaion" between Mrs. Elton and Mr. Weston, where he only really talks of Frank and she brings literally every statement back to Maple Grove. (Emma, Ch 18, V2)
Catherine and Isabella rapidly become friends, perhaps a bit too rapidly. Their quick friendship will be contrasted later with the more properly and far slower intimacy between Catherine and Eleanor Tilney. However, I have definitely had vacation friendships like this, where due to the amount of time together and the knowledge that you will soon go home, the friendship moves very fast.
They called each other by their Christian name, were always arm in arm when they walked, pinned up each other’s train for the dance, and were not to be divided in the set; and if a rainy morning deprived them of other enjoyments, they were still resolute in meeting in defiance of wet and dirt, and shut themselves up, to read novels together.
And then we come to the famous rant against the degradation of novels! And you know what? Austen has a good point. Why not have heroines of freaking novels read novels? What a strange brand of doublethink! A heroine must not read novels whilst existing within them. Funny to think that many of the novels that Catherine might have been reading would be considered classic literature now, though many more have faded out of recognition.
Austen also rightly points out that people are far more likely to actually read novels than "edifying" materials such as poetry or history, something which will come up later on the country walk. This makes me think of the scorn towards YA novels and comic books/novels today, which I still see way too much of. Let kids read what they like! A general love of reading will get anyone far in life.
(To be honest, I still kind of prefer fantasy YA because way too much of the adult stuff features rape/non-con/sexual assault and that's far less likely in YA)
But yeah, you just tell me the last time someone came up to you gushing about a History of England, it's not those books that capture our imagination and make us feel, it's novels. There is a reason I'm still reading novels from 200 years ago today and little else, and it's not just because factual information is far out of date!
Only a novel indeed!
#northanger abbey readthrough#northanger abbey#isabella thorpe#catherine morland#Mrs. Allen#Mrs. Thorpe#novels are great!
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@patchun did it, so now I'm doing it. Apparently it's just a big grid of your favorites, if anyone else wants to play along. I tried to be more honest with myself about pre-evolutions, but we all know how that can go.
GEN 1
There were no Dark types, and only one Steel type, so that's a little lame. Otherwise, Gen 1 has a lot of "my favorite is a pre-evo." Eevee, yes Vulpix over Ninetales in this moment, and most critically, Kadabra over Alakazam. Kadabra is, at least at present, my favorite Gen 1 mon again. Just like when I was a lad. I loved Kadabra. One that I think might stand out is Nidoran-Male. There are plenty of Poison types, but truth be told? I always just thought Nidoran-Male was super cute. I love its big ears. It's not the same when it starts evolving.
GEN 2
I feel like none of this should be surprising, and I'm sleepy, so moving on.
GEN 3
Gen 3 has excellent Pokemon, I love them. Illumise is a bit of an odd pick, but I had a really fun AlphaSapphire run one time that ran Illumise and it did pretty well, endearing it to me. Otherwise...yeah, actually, Mega Mawile is preferred over Gardevoir at this time. I miss it so bad...
GEN 4
Despite my love of Gen 4, I feel like a large draw is its legends. A lot of these feel like filling in a box. That said, Mesprit. There are so many good legends, but I'm tired of pretending Mesprit isn't my favorite.
GEN 5
Lilligant Sweep. Honestly, looking back at how much I love so many Gen 5 designs, it's nuts to think that people hated on it. Also we're back to having pre-evos as favorites. Frillish is better than Jellicent, with the pink one being my favorite, while I also just like Dewott better than Samurott, and think it's the best starter form of the generation.
GEN 6
Okay, so at this point, I should mention: I decided to put something different in each box, to avoid just spamming certain favorites. That was ill advised when you get to gens 6-8, given how few new additions there really were. So much of this feels like picking something. That said, special shoutouts to Gourgeist, who is legitimately one of my favorites ever, but cannot compete with Lilligant.
GEN 7
UB Sweep. Also, I love Pikipek. I love Trumbeak. I don't really love Toucannon. I loved woodpeckers, and was really excited by having one, but then it evolves and it's like sure, this makes sense. Morelull was the worse outcome, but the short is Gen 7 really did not endear itself to me with the evolution decisions. It did, however, endear itself via Moon Bat and the Ultra Beasts. Nihilego being the easy favorite. Like, come on.
GEN 8
Man, thank god for Legends Arceus, am I right? If it's from legends, safe to assume it's actually my favorite. If it's from Galar, it's like a 50/50 I was just filling a spot. That said, I am here to pick fights right now. Thievul is cute, y'all are just mean, and I fucking love Indeedee. Great shit.
GEN 9
I happen to like Paldea quite a lot. That said, wow do Ice and Bug not have much going on. Ice is especially painful, but I actually do like Frigibax. I saw it first in the evolution line and was like oh hey, that's a pretty cool dragon thing, and it's Ice type that's crazy! And then I saw its pre-evo form and was like oh, that's not so good. And then I saw its final form and was like "well that's not too bad" until I saw it move. It's not great. But the rest I legitimately love. Arboliva, Ceruledge, Espathra, Glimmora, Bellibolt, and yes all of the Meowscarada line. They're really good.
MISCELLANEOUS
Not a ton to mention in the special section, but I'll comment on a bit. Spearow line is great, they're just vilified because of the anime. But if you think about it, Pidgey spams Sand Attack and is a little punk-ass bitch with Whirlwind when it evolves, while Spearow is an honorable warrior. Chingling is probably my favorite baby? I briefly debated Smoochum solely for being not-Jynx, before decided I didn't really like that one either. Flareon is my favorite Eeveelution but couldn't win over Vulpix, so it just...never got to appear. I'm sorry, I just love the Vulpix line so much.
OVERALL
I assume none of these final decisions are surprising, so instead, here's the official ranking of each within the favorites (just the 18 types):
Lilligant - Absolute favorite, I adore Lilligant.
Nihilego - Very, very close second, I love this space jellyfish that deletes your personality.
Gardevoir - I can't help myself, I just love Gardevoir. It's such a good design.
Mawile - While Mega Mawile won out over Gardevoir overall, I think that's as much sadness over losing it as actually preferring it. They're pretty evenly matched, but without the mega, I think Gardevoir pulls ahead.
Mesprit - Emotion gremlin, I love you Mesprit, it's so cute and I am instantly drawn to emotion things.
Kingdra - I actually really love Kingdra. I think it's the Johto thing, and the strong association with Clair, who is a favorite. It's also just a cool dragon, like look at that thing.
Glaceon - Eeveelutions suck so bad, and I'm so mad about it, but I love you Glaceon, you and Flareon are hot garbage but you're my favorites.
Iron Valiant - Iron Valiant is so goddamn cool, what a good Paradox Pokemon. I just...wish I had more time with it, you know? Maybe over time it'll climb up, but I think it's just too...locked to one of the very last things you can do to attach.
Mismagius - Super cool ghost witch. Love this thing.
Milotic - It's very pretty, and it's one of the few Water types I stronly respect. I'm sorry, I don't love Water types.
Indeedee - Look, Indeedee's my girl. It's such a cute little design, I love that it got Psychic Terrain on entry, I'm dying for Pokemon Masters to give Caitlin or Darach one of these things. It's so good.
Braixen - Fennekin is the best starter ever designed, and Braixen is therefore the best by virtue of being the best iteration within that evolutionary line. REALLY wish it were Psychic type.
Krookodile - It's just a really cool thing. I wind up using Krookodile like every time I play Gen 5, it's just such a cool thing.
Diancie - You should be higher, but Pokemon is terrible with how mythic Pokemon are distributed so I just don't have enough direct engagement with it.
Vespiquen - This is the coolest bug. And it's also one of the shittiest. Life's not fair, is it?
Meowscarada - I actually do really like Meowscarada. I think it's a cool concept, and for a humanoid creature like we feared, it actually didn't turn out as bad as I expected.
Ampharos - Electric is one of my least favorites types, but Ampharos line is just so cute. Look at this thing. That is a friend.
Noctowl - I just think it's the coolest regional bird, and deserves more respect.
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can you write/rec a sappy sasuke fic? one where he’s all lovey-dovery because that would make me MELT
I know this prompt is old but i literally LOVE this. more sappy, emotionally stunted sasuke. i set this in a universe where no one grew up and got married and had kids, and they're all just big gay adults chilling in konoha.
this might not be exactly what you want because i feel like the only way sasuke would get like this without too much ooc is if he was mean first, so that's what we're working with here.
-jeni
He didn't know how to say it. He didn't know how to say much of anything around Naruto. So of course, he said nothing at all. It was hard to say anything nice to him. So rude things came out instead. He always wondered why he felt the need to take things so far. Be so mean, throw jabs with fury behind them. Just for the sake of saying them. Because that's what they do. That's what they're used to.
Sometimes it's even funny. Until it's not.
Naruto has been avoiding him. It's been a couple days. Sasuke waits for him at the ramen shop. They always meet here at this time on the same night every week. He knows Naruto has a lot of work, being Hokage and all, but he usually never misses this. It's they're only time to catch up and maybe push each other buttons a little.
Sasuke's mind flashes back to last night. He's wondering if maybe it was a little too much what he said to Naruto. Sasuke's gotten more talkative now that he's approaching his 30's. Which feels... fine. But sometimes it gets him into trouble. It makes staying close to Naruto easier. Also makes it pretty easy to push him away.
They had a case land on Naruto's desk last week. A missing-nin. Kids been gone about two weeks with a tragic past to match his disappearance. It's all very serious. Of course it is. So Why Sasuke felt the need to open his big mouth and make a joke, he's not quite sure. He cringes slightly as he remembers, tea getting cold in front of him.
"yeah, seems we don't all have someone who's obsessed with us enough to drag us back home every week."
He did not mean it like that. He really didn't. It sounded funnier in his head. Naruto looks up, a little dejected at first, as if the words were a slap. Then he turned his nose back down to his work, seemingly determined to not acknowledge the comment.
"Is this all the paperwork on the kid?" He had asked, voice turning very serious, all business.
"That's everything." Sasuke had told him, feeling very out of his depth suddenly.
He should apologize. Because he doubts that Naruto will show up if he hasn't yet. He's probably still in his office.
Sasuke pays for his tea quickly and practically speed walks back to the main office complex. He feels kind of stupid. How he still doesn't pick up on when people are upset quicker, he's not sure.
He knocks, Hears a mumble to come in. Naruto is exactly where he thought he would be. Knee deep in work at his desk, eyes rimmed red a bit, sleep deprived.
"You missed ramen." Sasuke accuses. Not a great opener.
"Yeah. Sorry. Lots to do here."
"It's fine." He still feels awkward. Doesn't know what to say.
"Was there something else, new intel on the missing-nin?"
"No, nothing."
"Then, what is it?" He sighs out, slightly irritated. Overworked. Suppressing something.
Sauske lets a beat pass, steels himself. Knows it will be worth it if he tells himself to stop being awful for just five minutes and just be honest with himself about how he really feels.
"I- uh. I'm sorry."
"What?" Still not looking up. God, Sasuke just wants him to look at him.
"I'm sorry for what I said."
Naruto looks even more upset now, brows knitting together confliction. His eyes seem to be glazed over, he just looks so burnt out. Sasuke is suddenly feeling like such an idiot for not seeing how close to home this would hit Naruto.
"Hey," Sasuke rounds Naruto's desk, turning his office chair, making Naruto face him. He gets down onto the rug, kneeling to Naruto's level, making him see the look in his eyes. "Hey, look at me."
Like a fucking blessing from the gods, Naruto finally does.
"I'm sorry for what I said to you last night. I didn't mean it like that." He takes Naruto's hands, squeezes them slightly. "I wasn't trying to make fun of you."
It almost looks like Naruto is shutting down even more. It's not enough to make it better. God, he's never doing enough.
"You loved me enough to find me."
That gets his attention. Sasuke can't tear his eyes away, he has to make this better.
"I did. I do." Naruto says slowly, quietly, but not lacking any conviction.
"Someone loves this kid enough too." Sasuke says. He doesn't quite know where it came from but somehow he knows it's true.
"You think so?" He asks, eyes welling up a little more.
Sasuke could cry at the very waver in Naruto's voice. He can't be the strong one for them all the time, that much is clear. Sasuke can take that place for bit.
"I know so." He runs his hand through the back of Naruto hair, holding his head gently, takes the liberty of planting a soft kiss on his head. "We'll find him."
"Okay." Naruto breathes out tiredly, agreeing. "We'll find him."
Sasuke takes the opportunity to drag Naruto away from his work the rest of the night. He embraces him swiftly, as if he would disappear if he didn't do it right this instant.
Naruto melts into it with ease as Sasuke curls his hand back into Naruto's hair.
Sasuke takes him home, thinking this was a pretty okay outcome to being stood up for date-night.
He makes them tea, makes Naruto shower and literally tucks him in. He leaves him there under the covers, half asleep.
"Sasuke," Naruto says right before Sasuke can leave out of the front door to his own apartment. Sauke turns around sharply.
"Stay?"
He can't refuse. He'll never refuse him. He can try. But for some reason the bitter, biting remark is at bay tonight. He just wants to hold him.
"Scoot over."
#promt#fic#fanfiction#drabble#sns#sasunaru#narusasu#UGH i love sappy bois kill me now#jeni#fanfic#asks
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