#chyrstis

Thank you, dear! 💖

1. last sentence you wrote:

Already answered, so I'll take the last sentence from yesterday, which was:

Are you happy now?

And it's wonderful because without any context, this could mean *anything*. 🤭

7. Your preferred writing font :

I hate to admit that I'm a creature of habit about this, meaning I'll adapt to whatever is the standard for a long time. Changed software and suddenly it's a different font that you hate at first but then get used to until you're so used to it that everything else just feels wrong? That's me. And I think the current "am used to" font is calibri? 🤔

Much more important I think is the preferred pt size! Which for me clearly is 10pt!

12. A trope you're really into rn:

Found family and the Feral Character With Tough Past Getting Their Happy Ending. ✨

17. Allow me to switch this with 27. from your other ask because I need to find something for 17 later, and can do 27 now.

27. Your favorite part of the writing process:

Writing. No, hear me out, I'm serious. It's everything. Yes, I'm biased because I'm writing again currently after a hiatus. But I've been going through the writing - hiatus - writing circle for the past 25 years of we only take the serious writing, and it's always come back, and it's always great when it's back. I just enjoy everything about it. Notes. First drafts. Xs drafts. Editing. Thinking about the characters and story. Reading my own stuff in any draft/finished version. I just really, seriously, from the bottom of my heart love writing. And I'm so glad it has never left me. I've been writing fanfic for more than 25 years and it has given me so much. It has saved me. It has brought joy, abs distraction. And connection. I have met so many wonderful people over the decades through writing and engaging with other peoples writing.

I just love writing. Everything about it. Nothing I don't love about it. It's all fun. It's my core version of creative expression.

— WATER

She shouldn’t have been surprised when he hadn’t grown out of it. No glass of water had gone unfetched, no trip to town made alone.

— SHADOW(S)

I miss the doof days 🙏

(you can’t see bc it’s so small but Al has a lil 5 point star outline tatted on her hip, she thought it was the absolute coolest when she got it done in highschool :>) 

Ahh thank you for sending this in hun!! ❤️ And oof, I apologise for my writing; I’m a bit rough.

18: “I’m not sorry I did it. I’m only sorry that you had to see it.”

- - -

“I’m not sorry I did it.” His voice is soft, fragile in a way you’re not sure you’ve heard before. Certainly far gentler than you’d think the current scene would allow. But then again, he has always been such a way with you; gentle and delicate, as if one wrong word could bring about the end. The end of what exactly you never knew of. Now you might have an idea. “I’m only sorry that you had to see it.”

There’s hesitation in his movements, even though he’s been calming and kneeling in front of you for… you’re not sure how long. It could have been a few minutes, maybe an hour or so, but what you are sure of is that John has been here the whole time. Hasn’t left your side, just as you’ve not left his, since the moment you found him. The moment you found them.

Almost awkwardly his fingers skim up and down your arms. Slowly touching and comforting you, reassuring himself as much as you in his own needy but cautious way, while also giving you the painful option to ease away. To shrug him off. Maybe even slap him away if you felt so inclined to.

But you don’t.

Perhaps it’s foolish of you. Maybe you should shove his hands away, curse him to every version of hell that exists because he has fucking killed someone, oh god— but you don’t. You don’t because you’re looking at him as much as he's looking at you. You don’t because despite how composed he looks, how sure and unapologetic of what he’s done, you can see his eyes.

The way they glimmer has always been something that drew you to him. If you were being honest with yourself they were the first thing about him that you fell in love with. John has always worn his heart on his sleeve, is a sensitive soul despite what many think of him, but it’s his eyes that have always unabashedly given that away. Just like now.

That pretty blue that reminded you so much of the ocean, both in colour and how quickly the tides of his emotions can shift their shade, is so bright. Watery with unshed tears that make his sad eyes sparkle in a way that has no right to be so beautiful. Without words you can see him pleading with you, desperate to touch you, to properly comfort you, to truly apologise for exposing you to a part of himself that is so foul and inhuman, but at the same time is so scared of what might happen if he tries to. Is terrified that you’ll shun him, that you’ll reject him for doing something that he believes is just and fair and right.

Because any bloodshed is just and fair and right when it’s done in defence of you.

So how can you? How can you scold him for such a thing? How can you ever snub him when everything he does is for you, even the most deplorable of acts? You know this likely isn’t healthy, you’re sure it’s not even normal, but you’ve always been weak to him. Weak to those eyes of his that ensnared you the moment you met him. That, just like the waves of the ocean, have never failed to drag you under; never failed to wrap you up in the warmest of feelings.

You always heard people say that love could be dangerous, but you never realised just how true those words were until you met John. A man that would literally do anything for you without question or prompt; and that you would forgive just as quickly.

With your own cautious movements, stopping every move or so to watch as the blue of his eyes shifts – scared-hopeful-sorry-understand-please-please – you raise your hands. Your own fingers mimicking his own as they ghost ever so lightly up his arms.

A broken sound whines in the back of his throat as you carefully cradle his cheeks within your palms. His hands finally closing what little distance there was to take a firm, but still gentle hold of you as he grounds himself with the contact.

With as much care and caution as you’d placed your hands on him you lean forward, watching as his eyes grow wide and the tears finally fall as you nudge your forehead against his own. He’s quick to accept, quick to lean into the gesture and nuzzle his face closer to your own. His nose brushes sweetly against your own, unbothered by the little bit of blood he accidentally smears onto your skin.

Hey chy thank you! Here’s a little bit of both ❤️

- - -

sobb 2—

You exhale a contemplative sigh, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans as you cast your gaze up to the sky.

If nothing else, the stars out here are incredible with no light pollution to dull their brilliance. Oregon has plenty of unpopulated areas, but you’ve never been anywhere quite as desolate as this place.

That’s why you startle so suddenly when you hear a rustling sound off to your left. It makes you jump, whipping your head around in the direction it came from.

And you see what looks like eyes shining in the darkness over there. Just for a second, just long enough to see them blink. You take a faltering step backwards, and then just as quickly they disappear and there’s a low yowl and the sound of more rustling as something bolts off toward the scant remaining trees.

Cat.

Those eyes sat too high off the ground to be a cat.

Just a couple of those cats, getting into a spat over territory. That’s all.

- - -

sobb 3—

Elysia nudges you with her elbow at dinner after you’ve been quiet all day. “I noticed you snuck off the boat last night. You still having those dreams?”

You consider the older woman for a moment before huffing out a small breath and offering her a humorless smirk. “Night terrors,” you correct. “And no, that wasn’t what it was. I just…couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh. This place is weird, isn’t it…”

She doesn’t really phrase it like a question. You glance at her sidelong, wondering if you should mention what you’d seen last night.

oh, I'm aware! :D It's from one of my favorite songs of the past year or so.

Anyway, this one's the working/placeholder title for a VTMB fic I've mentioned here before. It's still a lot self-indulgent. It's stalled at the moment because another fic came out of nowhere and tackled my brain, and I just haven't gotten back to it yet. Hopefully soon, though. Most of what I have written is dialogue (missing lots of descriptions and such), but I really love what I've gotten down so far.

“It’s my sister’s birthday tomorrow.” She hesitates. Tips her phone out of her pocket until the display lights up. “Today,” she amends.

The bottle taps against her knee, feather light. When she reaches out to take it, Nines watches her. Something quiet and warm burns in his steely eyes; she glances away as her hand closes around the bottle neck.

If she were still human, she’d be blushing.

Cult!Ramona drops by to deliver a message.

"Y'know normally I'd be pretty dang happy to find a hot woman in my bed", Sharky began, trying to keep his distance from the intruder, "but considerin' who you're associated with, I shouldn't be too happy." The matteress groaned as Ramona sits up; brown eyes trained on her target, pinning his back against the bedroom door. "Why's that? I don't bite. Unless you want me to."