#<- me when i forget the actual tags

[luvsavos]

WHERE is the extra aiden lore. where does his name ever came from where is his backstory i have never seen it 😭 he’s been my fav npc since 4u and only just now have i known he HAS A NAME.. AND THAT NAME IS THE EXACT SAME AS MY MH4U PROTAGS NAME COMPLETLEY COINCIDENTALLY—

the legends of the guild animated movie on netflix! it goes over his whole backstory on how he joined up with the ace hunters/became an official hunter and met julius + nadia

iceborne is where he first got his name though iirc, in the ingame cutscene post-fatalis both he and julius get name-dropped directly, and i think they were the first npcs to ever have that happen in-game before? i don't think nadia was mentioned, i Think the movie is where she got her name but i Could be wrong on that

also JHFGJNSDH that's so funny omfg.... i feel like aiden would also find it very funny he'd probably love having a Name Twin

[pencil-n-pen]

Princess ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

leon kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Being an independent woman and a full time student is all fun and games until final’s season. Luckily, your not-quite academic rival Leon Kennedy is there to pick you up when you fall.

next

cw: Female pronouns and description used for reader but nothing detailed (no skin color, eye color, hair type, body type, etc.) This is basically just an x reader for my independent eldest daughters who do nothing but their absolute best all the time everyday and deep down want a hot guy with beefy arms to let them relax for a minute. So i guess expect the related issues that come with being an eldest daughter?

Tags/tropes: hurt/comfort, dom! leon if you squint, leon’s very touchy, leon being a gentleman!! probably ooc, i kinda struggled finding his voice :/

wc: 3.3k

a/n: wowee so i’m not rlly looking to be a full time author or anything but i could NOT get this idea out of my head and i figured i could give back to the tumblr fic community <3 here’s to everyone who wants hurt/comfort without smut, incest, or a needlessly specific reader! hope everyone’s recovering well from finals!

— ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

The first time it happened, it honestly, truly, was an accident. A mistake, if you will. You would never willingly fall asleep on a random guy at a party. That is all kinds of bad for a number of reasons.

However. There were some… extenuating circumstances.

Finals. They’re a make-or-break for the first semester. Mostly just a break. In the sense that you contemplated how upset your parents would be at you if you dropped out and if the subsequent disowning would be worth it.

You did finals the same way you did everything. You worked. Studied. Borderline obsessed over it. Romanticized it so you could push through when the other’s resolve started dropping. Stayed home. Your friends bemoaned your “no-fun attitude” but they’re crying over their grades and you’re not, so.

Well. Actually you’re definitely crying over your grades, almost every day in fact. But not because they’re bad. Just because you’re tired. Really tired. The kind of tired that makes people have public breakdowns. But you can’t afford to have a public breakdown because you have to succeed at college and you have to work in order to stay on top of your bills and be able to send some money home to your family and make sure you have time to call your parents and make time for your sister to call you and vent because you didn’t have a you at her age and you wish you did so you have to be there for her and your friends need you to be there for them not to mention planning for how you’re going to use your degree after you graduate and—

Most of the time you try not to think about it.

So finals were over. And everyone wanted to celebrate. And you did, you promise. You’re totally the party girl type. Totally. (Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true?)

You don’t hate parties. You like dressing up and going out. It’s fun! It’s just… not your idea of an unwind. Not after you nearly ran yourself into the ground for a month straight for the sake of academic validation. You’d prefer to sleep for 72 hours straight. And maybe watch a movie at home in the sweatshirt you cried over your textbooks in. Maybe over a glass of wine? You’re not really sure. Relaxing never really goes well for you. It’s either depression-bed-rotting or full productivity.

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled to find yourself at this party. You’re not really sure how your friends convinced you.

But you’re here, in makeup and an outfit you like (you’re thankful this isn’t one of the ‘put on a tight dress and dance’ parties) and you just honestly want to go to bed. It’s a house party, so it’s not nearly as crazy as some of the other parties you’ve been (read: dragged) to, but still.

You’re on the couch, ignoring the smell of alcohol in the air and pretending the pounding baseline of the music coming from the speaker in the kitchen isn’t starting to give you a headache.

Ada Wong, a girl you’ve hesitantly dubbed your party friend, is sitting on your left, while the guy you can never quite tell what he is to her, is sitting on your right.

Leon Kennedy.

On a good day, Leon Kennedy is a smart, brooding, annoyingly capable guy who you share some of your classes with. On a bad day, he’s the bane of your existence. On a really bad day, you fantasize about all the ways you could kill him and turn the experience into a really good term paper.

It’s complicated. You’re smart. He’s smart. You tend to clash because neither of you like backing down from a challenge.

But right now, in this moment, at this party, the only thing you can think about is how fucking tired you are and how warm he is.

The music is so loud it drowns everything out in your brain. The few thoughts that make it through the overwhelm of sound are fuzzy and staticky. The cling and slip around in your head like syrup. The worst parts about parties are, funnily enough, working to cancel out the main reason you can’t fall asleep in your own bed at night: overthinking.

That and the fact that you haven’t sleep in forty-eight hours. An energy drink and an iced coffee count as a full nights sleep, right? You’re sure the heart palpitations are normal.

You manage to keep up with the steady flow of the group conversation, but as the night wears on, talking becomes harder and harder and just plain processing the words being said slowly turns into an impossible task. At some point, someone else squeezed onto the couch— you think it might be Chris? Ada did say he was coming late— so now you’re pressed against the one and only Leon Kennedy, and he’s radiating heat like a furnace.

Like you, he opted for a slightly more casual approach to the house party. Of course, he’s a guy, so his wardrobe was probably never that big, but still. It’s nice to see someone else in a sweatshirt and jeans.

You at least put on your favorite jeans! You call them your hot jeans, for self explanatory reasons. So what if you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt? It’s cold!

You jolt in place, not realizing your eyes had slipped close and the conversation had continued on without you. Something prickles in the back of your head. An instinctual sort of thing.

Don’t fall asleep in public places.

Don’t fall asleep at someone’s house you don’t know.

You know the owner of the house, you think. You’ve been here once or twice. But you don’t know everyone at the party and where your friends have gone because they’re not in the group talking here and you should probably stand up soon, to wake yourself up, don’t let your friends down, don’t be that girl who falls asleep at the party, don’t—

You jolt again.

Wake up. You tell yourself. Leon’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye, but you ignore it.

It feels like a record skip. You’ll blink, and the conversation isn’t the same as when you first closed your eyes. The song isn’t the same. Were the lights always this bright?

“Whew!” Ada whistles from above. When did she stand up? “Someone’s got final’s exhaustion written all over their face!”

The group laughs and you do too, but it sounds different. Leon doesn’t. Why isn’t he laughing?

You jolt again. Harder this one. A full body shake. You wince as your knee knocks into Leon’s.

“Sorr—“

“Stop that.” He grumbles, and oh. A warm, solid hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Closed to that warm, stupidly comfortable side.

This is wrong. It’s Leon. It’s Leon. You can’t. And this is a party, and your friends are here—

“Stop being stupid,” You can feel his chest rumble from where your cheek is pressed flush against it, and when did that happen? He picks up your left arm and drapes it across his stomach, then picks up your right arm and wraps it around his lower pack. “Squeeze.”

You listen, and wow. Who has time to go to the gym this much and be an academic rival? You feel like you’re slacking. Maybe you need to make time to get some—

“I can hear you thinking,” He says, voice deep and rumbly. It’s honestly a miracle you can hear him over the music. It’s probably because your face is pressed against his chest. If you strain, you can feel the dull thud of his heart.

“You have a heart?” You say, half-delirious with exhaustion. It comes out more as a question than a statement

“Mhm,” He rumbles. “I am in possession of one. Great observation princess.”

You frown into his chest. “Why are you always so mean? You call me that stupid name. I’m not a princess.”

“I’m not mean. Whoever said princess was a mean nickname? You decided that on your own.”

“Then how come you call me that?”

“Because,” He huffs, repositioning to a more slouched position that’s more comfortable for your neck. The arm tightens around your waist.

It’s nice. It’s possessive. Protective. No one’s ever really done that for you before. Usually it’s you doing the protecting.

You don’t want to relax. You can’t. You can’t.

“Because,” He continues, “Princesses need to be taken care of. Especially smart, stubborn princesses who never pause for one second. Not even when they should.”

You should get up. Apologize for how weird you’re being. Have another coffee or energy drink. Join the party. Do something that isn’t this.

“Go to sleep,” He says, his voice like a warm blanket settling and slipping into your mind. “Nothing‘s going to happen to you while I’m here. No one is going to be mad at you for sleeping. And if they are, I’ll kick their ass. Go to sleep.”

It’s easy to give in after that.

You sag, boneless. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut. You inhale deeply, breathing in the deep, rich scent that’s distinctly Leon.

Just for a few minutes. Because Leon’s watching. He won’t let something happen to you. Just for a few minutes. You’ll get up soon. You will.

He tucks you closer to him. “Sleep.”

You’re out like a light.

—

“No way, she’s actually asleep?”

“Holy shit Leon, did you drug her?”

“I did not.”

“Well, thanks, for whatever weird magic-spell you cast. Seriously. We’re all starting to get worried about her. She doesn’t take any breaks and she doesn’t let anyone help. Last week a librarian found her asleep on the printer. Fully standing.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to start inviting you to our apartment if it means she’ll actually get some fucking sleep. It’s unsettling finding her in the same position as when I left like, six hours beforehand.”

“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

—

It’s horrific, running into him in the library.

What makes it more horrible is the fact that you’re ugly crying silently in the English textbook section, because it’s always empty. You’re ugly crying in the English textbook section of the university library and Leon Kennedy just walked into the aisle.

You sniff, lifting your head from your knees to stare up at him from the ground. He has a knack for finding you at your lowest, it would seem.

“We’ve got to stop seeing each other like this, princess.”

“Oh?” You sniff hard, running a hand across your face as if that will clear up your red rimmed, puffy eyes, the tear tracks on your face, or the flush on your nose. The action at least wipes away the snot. “I wasn’t aware you ever fell asleep on me at a party. Did I ever find you crying in the English textbook section of the library?”

He tilts his head. “Why the English textbook section? It’s one of your best subjects.”

“It’s the emptiest section. Plus, anyone looking for an English textbook at this hour isn’t going to bat an eye at me.” You wrap your arms around your legs and hug them to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“One of your roommates called Ada. They said you haven’t been home since this morning. They thought you might’ve been at hers, or with me.”

You snort. “It’s like they don’t even know me.”

He rolls his eyes. “I think they were hoping you’d be there. I think anyone who knows you knew you’d be here.”

“Crying in the English section?”

“In the library, dumbass.”

He stalks forward, leaning back against the bookshelf across from you and sliding his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“Tell me. Is your pathological avoidance to asking for help conscious or not?”

You kick out, one shoed foot catching him in the shins. “Dick.”

He shrugs. “Just want to know. I can’t exactly gloat over scoring two points above you if you’re not in top form. I want a fair fight.”

“Is that what you're here for?” You ask suddenly, everything in your body going rigid. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” He says calmly. “I’m here because you’re being stupid again. You know what’s not healthy, or smart?”

He gestures to you. You, sitting on the floor, tears drying on your face. “This. Going out to parties to make your friends happy when you should be at home, sleeping. Studying for so long you end up looking like your boyfriend of eight years just broke up with you. Come on, princess. Where’s those brains you brag about?”

“They’re up here,” You tap your forehead. Against your will, your eyes burn, tears welling up, your face tightening. “And they’re tired.”

You drop your head into your hands, forgoing your silent crying of earlier in the place of open mouth sobbing. You can’t help it. You’re just so tired. So done with it all. With trying to keep up, with trying to make space, with trying to make time. With doing your best and it not being enough. You’re tired of being tired.

“Annnd there it is. Come here.”

He lowers himself to the floor next to you, tucking you close in a similar fashion as that night at the party.

“Come on, same thing as before. Hold onto me. Give yourself a minute.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, same way as last time, burying your face into his shoulder. Someone could see. Someone you know might see you crying and think—

He reaches a hand up and pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head.

“There. Now no one can see your face. Stop worrying. Just cry, princess.”

You sniffle. “I’m getting snot on your sweatshirt.”

“It’s had worse on it.”

“Gross.”

You can practically feel the eye roll. “Can you stop being dirty-minded and focus on something productive? Like crying? Or not crying, if that would make you feel better.”

You shift, so your head is lying against his shoulder instead of smashed into it like before.

“Why do you care if I feel better?”

Why do you care?

He shrugs against you.

“Told you,” He pushes your hood back a bit, tapping you on the forehead with his pointer finger. “My competition’s no fun if she’s not taking care of herself. How else is she gonna kick my ass?”

“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to swoop in here, Leon.”

“Mhm,” He says. “And i’m sure you do great at it, considering you’re still alive and kicking my ass at those stupid socratic seminars. Consider this… self-care. In the face mask, getting your nails done way.”

“Who taught you self care?”

“Ada. We have face mask nights.”

You jolt up. “Is she—“

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re not fucking, no she’s not going to be upset or care in any way about this. Calm down.”

You begrudgingly settle back against him.

“If anything,” He continues. “She’ll be excited to see you at more parties in the coming months.”

You frown. “I never said—“

“You only go to parties if your friends physically drag you or when you feel confident enough in your grades and the general state of your life. It’s really easy to tell which version of you shows up to the party. It’s the way you dress.”

“How so?”

He shifts slightly. Guilt twinges in your stomach as you realize how uncomfortable he must be.

“You wear your pick-me-up pants when you’re dragged there. The ones that make your ass look great.”

You sit up with a gasp. “My hot pants?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you call them?”

Your brain catches up to the rest of what he said. “Hold on. Did you just say—“

“I said what I said. I’m assuming there’s a reason you call them your hot pants.”

He smirks, and you flush.

“Moving onto more pressing matters,” He tilts his head at you. “You have two options this evening. Either I take you back to your place and you sleep in your own bed, or you come to my place and we binge watch the Oceans movies until you fall asleep.”

“How did you know I like the—“

“The icebreaker for club thing. You said they were your favorite movies.”

You look up at him. “You remembered?”

“You were wearing your hot jeans.”

“You’re the worst.”

He scans your face for a moment, eyes sparking with mirth and a little something less innocent. “Maybe.”

You sigh and lean back against him, exhaustion from all your crying hitting you at once.

“Nuh-uh, no sleeping here. You gotta pick one. My place or yours?”

You frown into his shoulder. “Ugh. Fine. Yours, but only because I wanna watch the Ocean’s movies. You better not have a disgusting frat house.”

“I do not. I do have popcorn and ice cream.”

“Ada bought those, didn’t she?”

“Nope,” He says, nudging you with his shoulder to stand. You clamber in gracefully to your feet, your head starting to pound. “Chris likes to have movie nights. It pays to be well stocked.”

Your cheeks warm as a large, steadying hand finds its way to the small of your back. “How many of my friends are you friends with?”

“I was friends with them first.”

“Ass.”

He chuckles incredulously. “For having friends?”

“Yes,” You say, letting him pull you to his side while you walk to your table where you left your stuff. Probably not the best idea to leave your entire net-worth unattended, but whatever. You were going through it. “How dare you.”

“Mmm. I see. My apologies, princess. I’ll tell Chris and Ada.”

“You get on that.”

You can’t help but smile as he helps you pack up your things, passing you items across the table and carefully zipping up your pencil case.

“Don’t touch my papers, I have a system.”

“Is the system absolute chaos?”

“Shut up.”

Once everything is packed up, you zip up your backpack, but before you can sling it on, Leon’s arm darts out and snags it right out from under you.

Your expression grows pinched. “I can carry my own bag, Leon.”

“I know you can.”

“Give me my bag.”

“No.”

You groan. “Why do you want to carry my bag?”

“See, there’s this thing called chivalry—“

“Oh my god, shut up. When have you and chivalry ever been synonymous?”

He shrugs. “Ever since I met the girl in the hot jeans who regularly kicks my ass academically.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmm,” He hums, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking you towards the doors to the library. “And you’re stubborn. Come on. Brad Pitt and George Clooney are waiting for you.”

You sigh dramatically, hiding a small smile in your hand.

Maybe you could get used to this.

masterlist | next part

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

[weirdglassthing]

LOA Shiptober Day 4: How They Met

October content month was ambitious..

This one took me. Shockingly long. Whoops! I’ll probably end up jumping around the prompt list and it might extend into November 😋

I’ll try to do day 31 on the actual date of Halloween though 🫡

[stingray-art]

you cling so tightly to the beast that waits to devour you

(please don’t tag as ship)

[evie-doesnt-write]

Obsessed with how Lottie is one of the only Yellowjackets who is not mean to or annoyed by Misty. I’m not saying she’s exactly friendly to her but at the very least she’s polite and non-judgemental. Even when she’s dismissive or exasperated it doesn’t come off as an aversion to Misty herself (like when faced with Misty’s aggressiveness towards her in s2). In s3 ep2, Lottie even awkwardly hugs her and attempts to comfort her about Nat’s death and her own guilt. It’s even funnier because Misty is often annoyed, suspicious of and weirded out by Lottie,

[alienfailboy]

please remember that luke skywalker adopted rey and fin a few years after marrying din djarin and and opening his jedi school on mandalor with their green rat son.

[commandertartarsmoocher]

On this Friday I present to you:

a small batch of today's doodles !

[franollie]

Stephanie to the Batfam is like a longtime family friend that's so intertwined with each of their lives for so long she's not NOT family.Y'know?She met them through dating a male Batkid but ended marrying a female Batkid after years of best friendship with her and she's basically the youngest Batkid's reluctant babysitter that got stuck with him but after some light tustles he sees her as a big sister and she sees him as a little brother and she knows the eldest Batkid well enough to be on good positive terms with them and call eachother friends even if they don't talk nearly as much due to the massive generational difference and she's buds with the middle child on common ground(Duke)and i know you don't like Jason and Stephanie much less like i do so i'll put him in 'weird older Batkid she finds annoying but tolerates because this ain't her relatives' and she's even close to the other big Batfam family friend(Babs)and bonded with the baby of the bunch's middle schooler romance ahh girlfriend(Maps).Bruce ain't Stephanie's dad but she's not NOT Batfam,y'know?????Idk i'm just spitting since it resonates with me as somebody with multiple non-blood family members i grew up with and i am that too others too and a Stephie kinnie so i wanted to share

im at the point where im so far removed from batfanon batfam that i forget that this isn't the generally accepted/agreed upon batfam

it all revolves around cass to me so yeah. steph's 100% part of the batfam

[cobaltfluff]

bilingual struggles

(sorry this is super long)

[finniestoncrane]

👉🥺👈 please don’t forget me when i disappear repeatedly and don’t get back to your messages for weeks

[fivewholeminutes]

See? He grew them out.

[frogatz]

you'll see them again !

too many thoughts and things done with Intent to fully explain myself . partially bc this was supposed to be much much longer, but i think i would like to play more in the space of post-game loop.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Your blog is the only blog where I feel safe enough asking this question. What do you think of Percy Jackson fans who feel as though they and the series have a moral superiority to Harty Potter ? Obviously, Harry Potter and its author are laden with questionable and sometimes straight-up hateful takes and views. But the way PJO fans constantly compare the two, its authors (even though RR is far from flawless), and the two MCs (ignoring how the two both share similarities in the fact that they are both traumatised, abused, angry teenage boys). I'm sorry that this ask got so long, but this has been annoying me for a while now.

This is an interesting question - for one, fandom fights over superiority is a concept that has been around for ages and has never been constructive. PJO and HP fandoms have been fighting in that exact way (and it has gone both ways!) for literal decades (remember, PJO turns 20 this year) so this isn't new, it's just taken on a moral flavor. Let's go over some things though (but please keep in mind i never got into HP and never read the books or fully watched the movies so my knowledge of HP is primarily pop culture absorption/secondhand from my family and friends):

Are either series perfect? No. HP absolutely is full of hateful sentiments and JKR is a hateful person and I do not respect her for that. Disney's marketing recently has absolutely fully leaned into trying to put Rick above her as a moral paragon and emphasizing how progressive he is and his support of diversity in middle grade series, despite some failings to reflect that in the actual text. Are Rick and JKR equally bad? Definitely not. Rick has had tangible good influence on adhd/dyslexia awareness that very directly impacted people like me as a neurodivergent kid going through school in the 2000s. JKR meanwhile has directly negatively impacted trans laws internationally very recently.

Rick absolutely isn't perfect, but he's vocally supportive, has made a lot of effort in the past to be inclusive, and still attempts to do so. Most of his issues simply stem from his own unaddressed internalized bigotry/biases and his research on varying topics not being great (plus poor management decisions such as not hiring a sensitivity reader actually fit for the story he's trying to tell). But he's not hateful. JKR is. JKR is very vocally hateful and bigoted and this is absolutely reflected in her work as well even in earlier HP. They are comparable in that they are both middle grade authors of easily two of the most popular middle grade fantasy (or specifically hidden world fantasy) series out right now. They are not equivalent in the slightest in their bigotry or tangible damage.

In terms of Percy versus Harry, I personally don't think they're very comparable. They share some similarities, but mostly just in that they're both the protagonists of their stories and thus serve protagonist purposes. Beyond that their use within the narrative is pretty different functionally. Their worlds' magic systems are not comparable. The hidden world aspect in both their universes isn't even comparable, since in PJO the "hidden world" aspect is very different from most hidden world fantasy formats because the entire point is that it's functionally not a hidden world. The characters themselves are very different as well - Percy's personality and the way he behaves and reacts to his environment is absolutely nothing like Harry's.

Most of the anti-HP-in-general sentiments stem from wanting to cut off JKR's notoriety, which I think is valid to want to do. And I do think there are a lot of issues with continuing to support JKR's work especially in ways that functionally promote her work or support her financially. Obviously, we will never be able to scrub HP from the cultural zeitgeist. It's just not feasible and I'm very anti-book burning so I do think it's important to acknowledge the role HP has had in pop-culture alongside acknowledging its harmful materials. HP is a text you absolutely can't death-of-the-author your way out of because a lot of the vitriol is baked into the text and worldbuilding in very overt ways - and there are plenty of other pop-culture staple novels like this. But fandom in general, at least true fandom and not mainstream fandom, is so obscure most of the time that I don't think, so long as people are not ignoring negative themes of the source material and are being thoughtful as they navigate engaging with it, that it is an inherently bad thing for HP fandom to just exist at all. It's never going to just stop existing no matter what people do. And HP fandom are not the only ones who should be thoughtful about how they engage with their source material - PJO fandom is not exempt from examining some of the problematic aspects in our own text and figuring out how to be respectful with those topics. It's just a lot easier for PJO fandom to tune it out without it being noticed because there's less of it and it's (at least sometimes) less overt. Honestly if HP fandom decided to go more down the path of a fandom like Warriors or Miraculous Ladybug, where the average sentiment is more along the lines of "Oh god no don't read/watch the source material it sucks/we stopped paying attention to it year ago and it's not relevant at all to what we're up to. We're over here functionally rewriting everything from the ground up/doing our own thing" I would very much support them in that endeavor. I do think there is merit in limiting promotion of the HP source material as much as possible, though.

Hopefully that all makes at least some amount of sense.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Oh, so we're all about 'I love my wife - I'd kill for my wife' guys here until it's Stonn?? My man Big Pebble????? [Patreon | Commissions]

[1-800-i-ship-it]

- VICTOR ASKS YURI IF HE WANTS HIM TO BE A BOYFRIEND TO HIM??? THIS IS CANON?????

- VICTOR GIVES YURI A BOYFRIEND HUG BEFORE HE PERFORMS???? THE PRESS EATS IT UP???

- YURI GETS MOTIVATJON DURING HIS PERFORMANCE FROM TRYNA SEDUCE VICTOR???

- VICTOR APPLIES CHAPSTICK DIRECTLY TO YURI’S LIPS WITH HIS FINGER???? VICTOR THINKS TO HIMSELF THAT YURI IS BEAUTIFUL????

- YURI BASICALLY CONFESSES THAT VICTOR IS THE MAIN INSPIRATION FOR HIS THEME OF LOVE???

is this reality holy shit…im literally not even halfway through the show

[om340700]

i like to think that my mc has huge ass mer dca plushies & belphie takes them every once in a while