#(I believe in you you can put them in the show)

[sheeezu]

What to do if you have not shifted for +++years

(Most of my anons were along the lines of this same issue, I want to make a common post for them. I won't be telling you "you're already there" or "persist" I'm going to have a heart to heart conversation with your mental health in mind, this will be a long post)

First and foremost I have to say, this post is very heavily opinion-based. Alright, I'll divide it into topics, and two categories: before shifting and during shifting.

Before Shifting.

Determining the laws of your reality.

This is where you've got to do most of the work. (Don't worry, it won't be 7 hour subliminal listening sessions) now let's present a very important note: I don't know who you are. But most importantly I don't know what you believe in. Shifting isn't a known set of rules, Shifting doesn't have a single method, it does not have a wikihow page. Everything that exist is because of you. Therefore there are differences in my reality and yours. What you believe in is acting out in reality. LITERALLY.

So first you need to ask yourself some questions, with full honesty, oh and don't apply the thoughts you have by certain reprogramming affirmations, don't force yourself just because you have to persist.

"What am I?" What do you believe you are? Currently, are you a soul, a human? Or you something greater, seek within yourself to answer what you believe.

"What is reality?" How is everything working around you? Why are you here.

"Who is in control?" Who makes you shift. Who or what makes everything happen.

"How to shift?" Self explanatory. If you write with utmost truth on what you think shifting is like and when and how it happens; you'll basically have the code of how reality works for you.

Relax.

After you've gathered your research sheets. Take a breath, since you've got all the answers you need. Now, close your eyes, whenever you like. Imagine a serene atmosphere, for example, sharp sunlight falling on your skin, warming you up, or the rain droplets drowning your senses, as you run across a forest. Tell yourself, "this is what shifting is" , and "I've shifted." That's all it is. You feel some you get some.

Some important realizations,

• Time is not linear.

• Failure is a perception.

• You're not beneath anyone.

• You don't need to prove yourself to anyone.

• you'll survive, you'll be alright.

Don't. Kidnap. Yourself.

The title sounds weird, but it is regarding heavily applying the principle of assuming until you have it, to EVERYTHING. Idc if people come after me. I don't want anyone to suffer by stamping their foreheads with "persist!" Even if it works. I love loa, until it crosses over into toxic positively. Don't just put yourself in a coffin; don't become a prisoner to your thoughts! Don't make it feel like there's an angry witch in your mind, who will scream at you if something goes wrong, the problem is! Something might go wrong and you'd end up highlighting the idea that you are being forced to assume against something. Don't feel forced. Simple. (You can still use loa, if you like)

Declutter your mind.

I said it before. and @ilovecatfr explained this here, there's so much in your mind. I can tell. Each and everyone has their own unique spin on shifting. That's great and they put out advice to help people, similarly you... also have it within you. Afterall, these bloggers, big well written and decorated posts are the projection of your assumptions. I'd like to say, majority of the bloggers are kindhearted with the aim to help others. Although for some, you being desperate in their asks is an ego boost, nothing is wrong with feeling good about yourself for your knowledge, but you the person at the other end of this screen, are not a pawn, not just another anon, alright? you know how to shift, look back at what your answers were to the questions.

Control your emotions towards this reality.

I've always wanted to discuss this. Emotions are the puppeteers of this show. They're a grounding mechanism of any reality. If you feel something deeply, you're angry at circumstances you form an attachment to this reality, it keeps you here. Think about what happens to a person when they get disassociation. Similarly belief + emotional investment = reality. Its a code. I can confidently say anyone who has not shifted (... not targeting anyone, genuinely trying my best to help; ty ty back to the text) is because they're giving too much emotional importance to this reality. This can be in the form of stressing that you have not shifted, being worried that you're not in your dr, putting much focus on the "What ifs" of if you wake back in this reality.

But we can't just go BLANK. we're still humans who feel deeply (for now huehue) so what's the solution to this non-issue? Direct these feelings towards your destination, your intended reality! This would mean feeling like your dr self, if you're experiencing negative emotions you can last second convert them to any scenario related to your dr, emotional investment there pays well, here? It just wastes time.

Don't let feelings get the best of you and keep you here; you're their creator after all.

(Optional) Create a homey dr.

This comes from personal experiences. If I don't mention this I won't be completely open with each one of you. I shifted through intense love and reverence for my home. I knew that each and every second spent in this reality led up to me shifting to my home.

So for ease later on when you can't decide between drs, it'll be comforting to have a reality you can call home and choose over and over again.

Rewire.

This is where you come back to what you answered to the questions. Do you like your response? A human is living in a reality, and your answers are the universal law there. Will they have an easy time with shifting? If you think so, then choose to not do any "rewiring" and act upon the answers you wrote, shifting in accordance to them as they have become the pillars of your reality. If you think the person's reality's laws regarding shifting are complicated, then you can choose to rewire them. This can be a simple manifestation. As it has no basis in the 3D yet, you will manifest it within seconds. You can either write it down, listen to a subliminal, or simply think of the new beliefs in your head (eg "I shift in seconds") and let go. Stop.

(Severely optional) strive for spiritual awakenings

*shrugs* I thought I should mention based on personal experience.

During shifting.

Confuse your logical brain

You don't have to give it validation. Instead, just make it unable to predict the next move of it creator. Its built to look at everything with skepticism.. but it has nothing when you don't give it the chance. For example, the anti method by @hrrtshape is the best example. I like that you can do this, pre-method like a little warm up. (You can also manifest to not think logically)

Know your game

To act like you're in a battle field is not the way to shift. You don't have to give the actual practice of shifting much or any importance. You know how to shift, then why is there a need to have plan B's and checking your own environment? You are the commander in front, you're the one switching the reality, your reality is not the one switching.

Senses shift last

Explained by @stilljuststardust here.

Be blind and deaf to each and everything other than your intended reality

...and be so obsessed with your intended reality. Live out entire days, you're there, no, time is not passing by, the previous reality has disappeared by your hyperfixation on your intended reality. Ever done that exercise where you stare at a dot for so long, everything around it disappears? Well then, EXACTLY. Make it dissapear. Make it dissappear by not giving it any more of your energy. ....how I shifted. This is based upon being your dr self, that's snatches away the spotlight from this current reality.

Keep yourself comfortable

All of you are experienced enough to know, you don't need to lay in the starfish position. But remove the unnecessary thought that if you dare move your finger you might mess up the whole attempt (This is a subconsciousness belief) here's how to not worry about your 3D: again, senses shift last, Your current reality = intended reality.

It is about breaking free from human functions

Your software is set to being an earthly human. This is why acting like your current reality (the noises from the environment, physical annoyances) are from your intended reality, helps. This allows you to trick your human brain and move forward. The more you try to make sense of shifting, the more less it'll make sense. You don't have to know everything about shifting. The point is to be awfully natural about it. Just like how you wake up in this current reality without any requirement. You don't overthink it, then why overthink shifting.

Hope I cleared everything, I spent 5 hours on this post. If anything is not clear, please send in an ask, I am 100% avaliable to answer anything amiss.

Now let's see how much time I take to actually make this post aesthetically pleasing, so people don't have to bleach their eyes or ruin their blogs with this.

Dedicated to @lilyblairkinda who gave me this idea, once.

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

but a secret third thing, that swans - of few creatures - get. they get admired and they get paid and they get LEFT ALONE. they have a position in relation to humanity, and it is BEING A LOVELY SWAN OVER THERE.

Ahm ...

swans did get in fact killed and eaten, up till and including the 19th century

-> ergo HCA must have been aware of that

SOURCE

They (same as peakocks) where the cenetrpiece of an expensive banquet and showed that you didn't just have money to burn but also taste, refinement and POWER

Swan meat was regarded as a luxury food in England during the reign of Elizabeth I. A recipe for baked swan survives from that time: "To bake a Swan Scald it and take out the bones, and parboil it, then season it very well with Pepper, Salt and Ginger, then lard it, and put it in a deep Coffin of Rye Paste with store of Butter, close it and bake it very well, and when it is baked, fill up the Vent-hole with melted Butter, and so keep it; serve it in as you do the Beef-Pie."[43] Swans being raised for food were sometimes kept in swan pits. The Illustrious Brotherhood of Our Blessed Lady, a religious confraternity which existed in 's-Hertogenbosch in the late Middle Ages, had "sworn members", also called "swan-brethren" because they used to donate a swan for the yearly banquet. Based on a mistaken belief that the British monarch owns all the swans in Britain, it is popularly believed the British monarch is the only person allowed to eat swans in the United Kingdom.[44][45]

-

-

And by all accounts, I mean all. There is a surprisingly large body of literature on the eating of swans, most of it from Britain. Swans were legitimate table fare in the UK up until the late 1800s; it was a luxury bird reserved for special occasions or for royalty. Queens Elizabeth and Victoria reportedly ate cygnets for Christmas dinner — a cygnet is another word for a juvenile swan — and by acclamation were wonderful eating. Every reference I could find about swans as table fare stressed the need for a young swan. Older swans are said to taste like “fishy mutton.” -

-

so ... you want something like a swan that has JUST turned in to a beautifull white swan this spring ... like the uggly duckling ...

-

-

They got hunted killed and eaten so mercilessly and so reslentlessly in all of europe, that the majority of our "wild" swans today either are semi-domesticated ornamental birds kept in parks or genetically closely related to those birds.

It's also the reason why currently it's in a lot of places not just illigal to hunt and eat swans there is also a cultural taboo against it

(although I assume what you do with your own swans that you payed for and that you own is entirely up to you ... )

But that doesn't mean swans aren't still hunted, killed and eaten in parts of the world ... like Utah for example ... or Nevada, Montana, South Dakota, North Dakota, Virginia or North Carolina just in america

And in case you wonder what swan tastes like?

The verdict? Swan is, oddly, more like duck than it is like goose. In fact, the closest thing I can compare it to would be canvasback duck: Dark, tender, mild and clean-tasting. It did not have that toughness Canada goose breast can have, nor that beefiness that many geese possess. Gotta say I like it.

-

-

SO you see little swan

You have to fear humans just as much as the geese

You are alive becasue a human decided that today seeing you alive gives them more joy then eating you

And humans are fickle creatures

They might change their mind tomorrow ...

We never really talked about it but The Ugly Ducking that grew up to be a beautiful swan was still probably pretty fugly from a duck’s perspective

[bbokicidal]

Joyride | [B.C]

Synopsis: You hear a familiar voice line coming from your boyfriend's phone.

Notes: Thought this would be a fun little drabble between my 4K event posts! I thought of this while playing this month's Hunter Challenge or whatever they're called lol. Pairing: Bang Chan x GN!Reader Warnings: None Genre: Fluff Word Count: 646

Just as you had passed the living room to head into the kitchen you'd caught sight of your boyfriend sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, his posture as horrendous as it could possibly get. His chin is tucked down against his chest, his thumbs tapping away at his phone screen when it's turned sideways in his hands.

He's focused, eyes darting across the colorful landscape displayed on his phone - and you automatically assume he's playing Genshin Impact from the noises coming from his speaker.

"Two stars," Chris huffs quietly under his breath, making you giggle as you open the fridge door and reach in to grab the juice. Shutting the door, you unscrew the cap with your free hand and set the bottle on the counter, continuing to listen to the sounds emanating from his phone.

"Whatcha doin', baby?" You coo, knowing it'll be at least a few seconds before he answers when he's caught up in his game. "Do you want to help me make lunch or should we order in?"

Chris lets out another breath before he answers, blinking rapidly at his screen as a white light flashes over it and the 'Victory' title displaying as the battle comes to an end. "I can help - Just give me one sec."

Just as you're about to reply and offer up some ideas for what you could cook together, something from his phone catches you off guard; A voice line you were all too familiar with.

"Are you up for a joyride, later?"

"Where do you want to take me?"

"Guess."

You whip around at the counter, one hand staying on it to keep you stable when you stare over at him. "Are you playing Love And Deepspace?"

Chris looks up, eyes wide and mouth pressed into a thin line as if caught red handed. "Maybe," He quips, giggling shortly after when you begin to approach him. His smile pulls at his cheeks and makes them dimple, the couch cushion creasing under your weight as you kneel beside him.

"Show me what outfits you have on the boys!" You grin, reaching to tap at his screen to try and get back to the main page. You want to see what guy he has to greet him, what outfits he puts the guys in, and how many Kitty Card badges he's collected! "Do you have any 5-Star Memories?"

Chris giggles, this time a little more sheepish as he taps into his Memories and tips his phone to show you four out of the five from this year's Valentines Event; The Event where the boys were all dressed up in chains and black leather outfits; The Event that introduced everyone to the characters with deliciously styled mullets. "I have these? But I don't have that many other ones," And he's a liar; Lying right to your face when you can see how many memories he has for Rafayel. Your jaw drops in disbelief and you grin, laughing out breathily at the sight of just how into the game your boyfriend was - and the fact that you had no idea.

"I cannot believe you," You breathe out, clicking through his memories while leaning into his side to see what all he has. And he welcomes it; Truthfully, he loves how into mobile games you are. It makes him feel better knowing sometimes he can spend hours on Genshin while you ogle pretty men in LADS while you lay in bed next to each other.

Chris smiles down at you while you're distracted, watching you go through his game to see all of his collectibles. Though, he's not going to address the fact that he's already level 93 - Nor is he going to mention why his affinity level with Rafayel is Devotion: 160.

He's wholeheartedly devoted to you, of course; But... come on; It's Rafayel.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna @skzophreniic

@silly250

[munsonsmixtapes]

Take it All Off

Evan “Buck” Buckley x plus size!fem!reader

You show Buck your new outfit and he’s more than happy to show you how much he loves it.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) body worship, body insecurity

Thanks @the-witty-pen-name for giving me this idea!

You check yourself out in the mirror, turning this way and that, admiring what you look like in the little number that you bought. It somehow looks even better than it did in the dressing room. The top is definitely more low cut and revealing than you would usually go for. It’s a pretty green color and laces up in the front. It shows off more than you usually would, but you have to admit that you love the way you look. Especially paired with the jeans you also just bought.

They hug your body in just the right spots and now you can’t wait for Buck to get home, knowing that he’ll love your new look. He loves you if whatever you want to wear but you know that he especially loves when you wear something tight, the way the fabric hugs your curves. It never fails to make him want to take you right then and there.

You hear the front door open and you tighten the laces to give yourself more cleavage then try your best to put on a flirty face as you see Buck enter the room in the reflection of the mirror. His eyes widen as he gets a good look at you and you continue to fake flirty faces at him.

He marches over and grabs hold of your arm, turning you around to face him. His eyes rake over your entire body, lust filling them as he does so. He doesn’t know what the occasion is, but he’s not going to question it. He thinks you look fucking hot.

He was already hard beyond belief from the photo you sent of the outfit while he was at work, but now he can barely hold it in any longer seeing you in person. He’s got to have you and he’s got to have you right now. He’s going to worship every inch of your body, to show you just how much he loves it. Especially because he knows that you need reassurance sometimes.

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say as his eyes travel back up to your cleavage. “I mean-fuck-” He’s at a loss for words and your cheeks heat at what you assume is a compliment.

“You like it?” You ask and his eyes travel back up to yours, giving you a look as if to ask if you’re serious.

“Love it,” he replies. “Let me show you how much.” There’s no way you’re going to say no to that. He sits at the end of the bed and helps you straddle his waist, his hands resting on your waist, his favorite place to hold onto. Your arms warm around his neck as he pulls you in for a kiss.

He’s warning you up like always, being gentle before getting rough like he knows you like. You’re the one who always takes it there but he loves giving you the control. He just wants his girl to be happy and he doesn’t care what he has to do to make it happen.

“I’m going to fucking worship you,” he whispers against your lips. “Gonna show you just how much I love you. All of you. Because as much as I love that top, honey, it has to come off.”

Your cheeks heat at his words and he pulls you in for another kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly as his tongue flicks into your mouth. It plays with yours and you can’t help but moan at the feeling, needing him now more than ever.

He continues to kiss you as if his life depends on it as he unlaces the top, going as slowly as possible, wanting to savor your kisses as he does so. Once he’s got it all undone, he pulls back as he pushes it off of your shoulders, the thing falling down your arms and clattering to the floor.

Buck takes a moment to take in your now bare chest. He’s always so taken aback by how absolutely beautiful you are, almost like he’s looking at you for the first time. He always feels like the luckiest man in the world and he can’t believe that out of all the men on this earth, you chose him. And he’ll never take that for granted.

He leans you back just a touch as his hands rest against your bare back. He leans down and pressed feather light kisses to your shoulder, peppering it with them before making a line of them across your chest to the other shoulder. In between, he whispers compliments into your skin, wanting you to know exactly what it is about you that he loves so much.

“Your skin is so soft,” he says as his lips find their way to your neck, tilting your head to the side so he has more access. “And you smell so good.” He takes a deep breath through his nose to get a whiff. “I love when you spray your perfume on my clothes.”

“I’ll do it more often,” you reply as he buries his face into your neck.

“Please do.” He presses another kiss to your neck and another and another before he goes in for a hard suck, making you gasp before melting into him. He knows how much you love when he leaves his mark on you.

He continues to lick and suck on your neck as your hands rest on his shoulder blades. And when he bites down, you let out a loud moan as your fingers curl, your nails digging into his back. He’s holding back a smug smile as he hears how good he’s making you feel.

Your back arches into his as he bites down again and again, making you moan over and over until you can’t take it anymore, orgasming as he gives you one more bite before pulling away.

As Buck picks you up and carries you over to the bed, you know that this is far from over. And you’re happy to let him do anything he wants to you. For once, he’s in charge and you’re looking forward to lying down and taking it.

His hands go to unbutton your jeans and he pulls them down your legs with a little struggle but he eventually gets them off, followed by your panties which both end up in a pile on the floor. He takes a moment to take in your naked body before taking off his own clothes, throwing them to the side where yours have been discarded.

Before you get a chance to look at him, he places himself on top of you and takes your hands in his before kissing your lips. This one is more gentle than the others but it still makes your head spin, especially when he smiles into it because you make him that happy. You really can’t believe you found the perfect man.

Just when you’re getting into it, he pulls away and goes back to kissing your body again, whispering more compliments into your skin, making it heat.

“I love your stretch marks,” he says as he lets his fingers dance along the grooves of the ones that line your hips. He tells you this all the time but feels the need to every time he thinks about it because he just wants to assure you that he loves you just the way you are. “I know you don’t, but I love them. They not only give you character, but they make you you.”

You can feel yourself tearing up and it makes you feel silly considering what you’re about to do but you can’t help it. Buck always knows exactly what you need to hear. He wipes away your tears then pressed a kiss to every single stretch mark he can find and you can’t help but feel yourself tear up again, knowing for sure that this is the most you’ve ever felt loved in your life.

When he comes back up, he peppers your face with kisses, letting you know that you can cry if you need to, wiping the tears away as you fall.

“I just love you,” you tell him which makes him smile before he leans in for yet another kiss.

“I love you too,” he replies and when he pulls back to look you in the eyes again, he knows that you’re ready. He goes to reach for a condom but you’re quick to stop him and he hopes that he hasn’t done something to upset you.

“I don’t want to use one. I want to feel you. I want it to feel more intimate.” He smiles again as he leaves the condom on the bedside table. Neither of you have ever done this before but you have to admit that it feels freeing.

You both watch as he gets inside you-just the tip so you’re not overwhelmed-and he slowly starts to thrust. The whole thing feels so foreign but you both have to admit that feels so good.

Buck’s pace picks up just a bit more and the fact that you already look like you’re close encourages him to go even faster, even harder. You’re already coming undone, feeling like you could come apart any second. And Buck’s encouraging words are definitely helping.

“You look so pretty, angel. Sound so pretty. Make some more sounds for me?” His hands grab hold of your hips, nails digging into your skin as he goes even harder, pounding into you again and again, his sweet words contradicting his movements.

You can feel him, all of him and you’re sure that he’s never been this rough with you before but you definitely don’t hate it. You love that he doesn’t feel like he has to treat you like you’re fragile. Just because you’ve felt insecure in the bedroom before doesn’t mean that you don’t like it rough from time to time.

“That’s it, just like that,” Buck encourages as he watches you moan again and again. You buck your hips against his as your hands move up to his shoulders. He catches you off guard when his hands slide underneath you, maneuvering you so he can get even farther inside, and you whine, tears pricking your eyes again as you can practically feel him in your stomach. “Look at you. Taking all of me so well. Such a good girl for me.”

You know this is going to be the shortest you’ve ever lasted, but you can feel yourself getting progressively more tired as his thrusts get more intense. Your orgasm is approaching as your eyes start to get heavy.

He’s still going as you reach your peak, knowing that you don’t have any more in your, feeling your body getting lip. So as you’re coming down, getting progressively more tired as Buck pulls out, you don’t even have the energy to move when he starts to clean you up. You just lie there as he cleans himself up.

And when he comes back from disposing of the towel, he helps you get into the bed where he pulls you to him, bare skin against bare skin. He kisses you again and again as his fingers dance lazily along your back before you both eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms, thinking that you’re the luckiest people in the world to have each other.

[kidicaruslover911]

a/n: I put wife/gf on these women depending on how much I personally like them and on some it’s just fitting for the situation but girl feel free to imagine whatever you want 😭

gf!vi who, whenever you’re outside and need to leave for a second or have to take care of something even if minor, insists on holding your purse for you often trying to figure out how to not look like she just stole it, gf!vi who blows air into your ear to tease you and gf!vi who gets all proud and won't stop smiling whenever a kid swoons over how pretty you are- eyes turning soft yet envious green as soon as it's followed with an innocent marriage proposal, because hey! so that's not how things work; sorry, she has to inform the child that this lady right here, is taken. believe it :p

gf!sevika who is sick and tired of your need to be hyper independent (she understands dw) and who literally has no idea how she’s supposed to be courting you if you won’t even let her hold the door for you. “FREE YOU” (she will) she screams, begs and prays internally every single day, trying to ease you into letting her handle things for you and gf!sevika who’s trying to make you understand that she truly isn’t your enemy and quite literally is on her hands and knees, ready to dote to your every need 24/7 (when she can)

gf!mel who will literally be letting you in on all her products and shares them with you, gf!mel who will also be applying lotion and oils onto your skin to have you radiating just as much as her if not even more. plus she has you smelling like heaven so- gf!mel who will be (if you have any) retwisting your locs whenever it is needed and gf!mel who loves to go jewelry thrifting with you and will apply your lip combo for you

gf!lest who affectionately refers to you as her miss/lady, many times also when conversing with others, gf!lest who you share cigarette kisses with, gf!lest who gently scratches your back with her long onyx colored nails and gf!lest who will trace and kiss all over your moles, pointing out how you must’ve had an indubitably fierce and fiery lover in a past life, joking about how she’ll have to kiss you all the more for you to be covered in thousands of them in a next lifetime…

wife!ambessa whose silver kinky locks you love to comb through lovingly whenever she’s getting ready for the day, wife!ambessa who has you putting on a fashion show for her whenever she’s bought you another few tons worth of clothes, wife!ambessa who keeps a leg between your thighs when the two of you share a bed- not always in a sexual manner, it’s simply a habit of hers, it's comfortable and your legs often end up tangled with one another, and wife!ambessa who has a thing for neck tattoos, especially those that rest at the base of the nape

gf!jinx who'll be in a full blown fight with someone talking about how she really can't be messing around with them for too long this time around because she promised her girl she'd be back at xy o'clock, gf!jinx who’s eyes bulge out after throwing her jacket onto a puddle just for you to walk around it😭, gf!jinx who will be experimenting with crazy makeup looks on you and gf!jinx who seems to sleep like a dead person, yet who's grip tightens as soon as she feels you slipping away from her; either that or she instinctively moves closer to you whenever she senses some sort of unwanted distance between your bodies

wife!caitlyn who places her hand on your knee/thigh, thumb caressing slow circles on it while repeating she will be paying that damn restaurant bill- and everything else actually; put your purse away girl, what do you think this is??? wife!caitlyn who isn't the best at posing for pictures and who every single time opts to find your eyes, using them as a point of focus as she always ends up getting lost in them; like this, she never has a bad photo, especially when you're within the frame, always looking at you, a stare that is ever loving and tender

[greenzig]

im unconvinced by the idea that spongebob falls into reactionary ideas of what makes art great while squidward is innocent. spongebob's art is clearly inspired by the same european works that the nazis and other fascists consider great, but it feels like a very shallow connection. by this same logic squidward's art is equally reactionary, for the reasons communist-hatsunemiku points out, but also that squidward is obviously fascinated by the same european aesthetics. squidward's rival squilliam fancyson, the person who we're made to understand as the person squidward wishes he could be, is clearly meant to have the aesthetic of a european aristocrat.

adding onto the points that communist-hatsunemiku made, squidward elaborates on his ideology on art in this episode:

A good sculpture takes… more time. You can't just sculpt Willie-Nillie. You've got to go by the book. Follow the rules. Otherwise, you'll never get past Amateur Hour.

if we criticize spongebob and call him a "perfect fascist subject", why don't we criticize squidward the same way?

but the point i think is more obvious is that we never are made to get the idea that spongebob views his art as "great". in fact, the very episode itself being discussed is evidence against this. when he learns squidward is the teacher of the class, he says:

You…are the teacher? To my pupil?! This isn't art class, it's Heaven.

spongebob clearly perceives his work as lacking something that squidward's has and is ecstatic to learn how to make his work more like squidward's. spongebob is also consistently shown to be one of the few people in bikini bottom who takes squidward's art seriously and is consistently shown to be his biggest fan. band geeks, one of the most famous episodes of the series, is also about spongebob trying to learn from squidward.

one thing communist-hatsunemiku didn't point out is that squidward is constantly putting down spongebob's art throughout the episode, causing him to cry, while spongebob does nothing but show squidward's art the utmost respect. squidward only takes credit for spongebob's art once spongebob leaves.

i think ive made my point enough but i do believe that if anyone in this situation were to be declared as having reactionary beliefs on art, we could charitably say its both of them, or say its just squidward, but i do not believe there's a situation in which we can say it's only spongebob while squidward is innocent.

the sad thing about the episode where squidward teaches an art class is that spongebob receives greater recognition despite having no creative vision. his work is technically impressive, but his otherwise powerful imagination fails him, and thus he churns out derivative slop. the thomas kincaid of the sea.

[vivlily]

can you please explain who these horses are????

You made a mistake in asking me, but I will try anyway. This will go over some general things and mainly focus on white and cyan, not so much the other horses.

They are characters from a Twitter webseries/game(?) hosted by @/snakesandrews. Where viewers essentially vote on whatever horse they think might win. These horses bounce around randomly off of objects like a screensaver of sorts, and a horse wins once it touches a png of a carrot.

These horses are typically referred to by their color until they win and are thus given a name, for instance, orange, eventually becoming jovial merryment.

How much or how little these horses win as well as what goes on during a race end up leading to a lot of fan made content. And for the most part, any characterization of these horses is largely up to fan interpretation.

For these two horses, white and cyan specifically? White and cyan and brown would go on to not win one match for quite some time, leading to them being put into a race all on their own. Which brown would eventually go on to win and attain the name Door Knob. Leaving white and cyan in their own little race. With a special little map, file this special little map for later.

It is important to note that these races do not usually last much longer than around 2 or 2 and a half minutes. Cyan and White would go on to race for a whole 7 minutes and 9 seconds. This led to a lot of fans depicting them as sort've not wanting to win, usually because of enjoying one another's company or something similar. I'm a yuri minded individual, so you can probably guess how I decided to interpret it.

As you probably realized, since they had a defined time for the race, a winner also exists. This is where White had won, earning the name Superstitional Realism. This led to a lot of fans depicting Cyan as either feeling betrayed or upset by white winning. Some also show Cyan being happy for white.

It here that white, now superstitional realism(I will refer to her as Sup from now on), would join the next days' race and proceed to not win. And in the next day's race, white would be mysteriously missing. It is in this race that Sup is missing that something unusual happens once the race is over.

Cyan has lost every single race, every single one. This race where Sup is missing is followed by a video in which Cyan was racing all alone in an empy room with only herself, eventually obtaining her first win. But did such a win even count? There was no one for Cyan to even race against after all. It was assumed Cyan would get a name for her victory, but the fanfare screen would simply continue listing her name as Cyan.

People expected that Cyan would finally join the next race proper, only for the next race to be a race between what looked to be 7 distorted horses (6 a form of cyan, and 1 white). Despite there being 6 cyans, they still lost to the distorted white horse, whose fanfare screen read "a Mysterious figure." Leading many to think this might be cyan reliving her worst moments, and more specifically, the moment where she get left behind by white.

The latest race as of this post was with the regular set of horses interspliced with the 6 distorted cyans having a race of their own. It's unknown if this "nightmare" world is real or in cyans head. But one of the 6 distorted cyans does win and is rewarded with the name of Garbage Bin. We then cut back to the "normal" world where Sup remains missing and jovial merryment wins the race(go figure).

Now, do you remember that special little map where cyan and white initially raced in? The "normal" world race was taking place on the very same map, just with more color and rounder edges. This leads to me and probably a few others believing that that last race was the other horses looking for cyan.

My assumption for why Sup has been missing for the last few races is because white had already gone back to look for cyan ahead of everyone else.

As for how the story might end? Well, you can find out both today and Friday as the series seems to be having it's last to races.

Will jovial win once more? It's possible. It's annoyingly possible. And will cyan and sup have a happy ending? I SURE HOPE SO. SAVE YOUR GIRL.

Whadya mean I'm getting emotional over screensaver pngs?!?

Apologies if this was long winded, I'm not used to typing this much and suck at using words. BUT you made the mistake of asking me, dear Anon. Always remember there is always yuri for those with eyes to see. Now go consume some fan content, there's a lot of really good writers and artists out there, show them some love.

[cherrygarcia-07]

Easter with the Reids🐰💗

(Please pretend its still Easter I was too sick to get it out on time😭)

Spencer will do anything to make his little girl happy and is determined to give her the most perfect Easter he can! Between Easter egg hunts and bunny shaped pancakes, he will stop at nothing to put a smile on her face.

pairing: dad! spencer x wife! reader (featuring aunt penelope & the team)

genre: FLUFF!! spencer worrying about being a good dad and doubting himself, then more FLUFF!!

word count: 7.5k (yeah ik woah)

notes: i named the daughter SORRY it was too hard to avoid it </3 feel free to rename her in your head // idk Spencer just loves his family so much i love him😭💗 // very dramatic pancake making to follow

masterlist

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You sighed and glanced up at the clock on the wall. 2am. You and Spencer had been painting little plastic Easter eggs for hours for the egg hunt Rossi had (begrudgingly) agreed to host in his garden. You would have begun painting hours earlier except a certain little someone had watched Rise of the Guardians before bed and was insistent on staying awake to catch the Easter Bunny and his entourage of holiday mascots’ visit. It had taken Spencer a while and a lot of patience to convince her to go to sleep and it hadn’t been long since he tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. And so here you were in the middle of the night, hunched over a mess of paint and pens and glitter, matching expressions of deep concentration on both of your faces as you got to work.

You gave yourself a moment to stretch, raising both arms above your head with a dramatic sigh before redirecting your attention to the half finished egg in front of you. As you picked up your paintbrush, Spencer let out a frustrated grunt beside you and set his own brush down on the table with a thud.

‘These eggs are so tiny, I keep smudging the paint with my hands.’ He grumbled, voice low and raspy with exhaustion.

‘She’s four, honey. I don’t think she’s going to care that much.’ You replied, taking the egg from him and turning it in your hand to inspect the damage.

‘I just want them to be perfect for her.’ He said softly, tired eyes focused on where he’d smudged a yellow polka dot. ‘She’s so excited for today, I don’t want to let her down.’

The worry lacing his voice made your heart ache. Spencer was undoubtedly the most devoted father in the world but you knew that his own upbringing meant there was always a sense of anxiety and self doubt itching away in the back of his brain that he never seemed able to dismiss. He dedicated himself to seeing through every moment of his daughter’s life, no matter how small or mundane, with the utmost care and with every ounce of unbridled love in that big heart of his, however this meant that anything short of perfection weighed heavy on his mind and brought a wave of guilt crashing over him. He was never able to convince himself that he was enough, and despite the immeasurable love he had for the tiny life he held so dear he struggled to believe that he was the father she deserved.

But luckily, he had you.

With a gentle smile, you picked up the paintbrush he had discarded and steadied the egg in your hand. A tranquil, comfortable silence passed between the two of you as you carefully painted over the yellow smudge until the polka dot began to resemble a little cartoon-style chick. You glanced up at Spencer next to you as you reached for the black pen on the table, laughing quietly at the trademark furrow in his brows before turning back to the chick and finishing the details.

‘Voila!’ You held the egg up proudly, a grin on your face as you showed off your work before handing it back to Spencer.

He let out a breathy laugh as he took it, turning it over in his hands admirably. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ He mumbled, exhaling with relief as you watched the dark clouds of guilt disappear around him.

‘Paint subpar Easter eggs, apparently.’ You teased, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

‘My fine motor skills apply to playing chess not to arts and crafts.’ He replied, nudging you back and making you giggle.

‘Why do we have to paint eggs for Easter anyway? It’s so much effort.’ You grumbled.

‘I seem to recall someone saying this was their favourite Easter tradition.’ Spencer replied, raising an -amused eyebrow at your thinning mood.

‘Not at two o’clock in the morning it’s not.’ You yawned, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

‘If you’re actually curious, there’s a few different beliefs and stories surrounding the origin of the Easter egg tradition.’ He paused to press a feather light kiss to your hairline and you let out a content hum before he continued.

-

It was 3:15am by the time you both finished and decided to drag your worn out selves to bed- though the temptation to give in and fall asleep right there on the table was hard to resist.

At long last you were cosy in bed, sleep pulling you more and more in every second that your face melted further into the pillow and your husband’s arm fell heavier over your waist, but you could sense that something was still on his mind. You rolled over onto your other side so that you were face to face, noses almost brushing against each other and your eyes darted over his face trying to make out his expression in the dim street light creeping in through the gap in the curtains beside your bed. His fingers twitched against your waist, a tell tale sign of his restlessness, and almost instinctively your own fingers found their way to his hair, gently combing through his soft curls as you pressed a reassuring kiss to the tip of his nose.

‘What’s going on up there, doctor?’ You whispered in a sleepy voice, tapping the side of his head with your finger.

‘I was just thinking…’ He trailed off with a sigh before shaking his head. ‘It’s nothing. Get some sleep please, honey.’

‘Spence, talk to me.’ You spoke softly, but with a hint of firmness in your voice.

‘You’ve been up all night, I don’t want to keep you up any longer.’ Spencer replied in a similar whisper, his voice was soft and calm but you could sense the fragility in the wavering of his words.

‘I’ll survive.’ You pulled your hand from his hair and let it trail down to his chest, rubbing soothing circles over the fabric of his pyjama shirt.

‘You know, sleep deprivation is much more dangerous than people realise. Its short term effects reduce cognitive performance and can induce headaches, nausea, anxiety and more, but its long term effects-‘

‘Spencer. Stop deflecting. What’s wrong?’ You cupped his face with your hand, forcing him to meet your eyes. Hesitantly, he licked his lips before speaking.

‘I was just thinking that she’s growing up so fast.’ Ah, you thought, there it is. ‘I was thinking about her first Easter, when she couldn’t talk or even walk yet. She was so small, it still hadn’t really sunk in that she was ours.’

A loving smile spread across your face, your mind replaying the same memories over in your head. ‘I remember it. Penelope was more excited than us, and brought all that chocolate that Charlotte couldn’t even eat yet. I think you ate it all, actually.’

Spencer scoffed, laughing under his breath as he shook his head against the pillow. ‘Wow. Inaccurate. I did not eat it all.’

‘Hmm…’ You pulled away from him slightly, biting your lip and rubbing your chin in exaggerated thought, ‘you definitely ate most of it. I don’t remember seeing a single drop of chocolate left for me.’

‘Well I seem to recall Penelope bringing a pack of Hershey’s Kisses that I never saw again.’

‘Wasn’t me. They must’ve gained sentience and ran away.’

The both of you were giggling like a couple of school children at this point, giddy as you tried to keep your voices quiet. Spencer tightened his hold around your waist, pulling you closer towards him until your noses were barely millimetres apart again.

‘Do you remember her outfit that day? The second I saw her I’d never been more grateful for an eidetic memory in my life.’ Spencer whispered, his voice warm and thick with affection, his eyes glassy and dazed as he envisioned the scene before him, love spreading through his chest as he reminisced.

-

You’d surprised him with her costume. A week earlier you’d been out shopping with JJ and Penelope in preparation for the holiday. While Charlotte was still too little to really participate, JJ had a whole day of events planned with Henry and so the three of you were scouring stores for everything ranging from buttons and ribbons for arts and crafts to sprinkles and candy for baking delicious Easter goods. It was in one of these stores that your eye caught on a fluffy little onesie hiding away at the back of a shelf, abandoned by somebody else and tossed aside instead of being put back where it came from. Curiosity itching at you, you picked it up and discovered fluffy, floppy little bunny ears and a fluffy, fuzzy little tail on the back of it. You felt your heart swell in your chest as you pictured your baby girl bundled up in the silly little outfit, tiny white paws kicking wildly as even tinier fingers curl around the soft, plush sleeves. You hadn’t realised how long you’d been stood there, daydreaming with a dopey smile on your face until you heard the clacking of Penelope’s heels approaching behind you.

‘There you are! We were looking all over for- oh!’ Her voice grew quiet and affectionate as she spotted what you were holding in front of you. ‘Oh, honey I can see the lovey-dovey wheels turning in your pretty little head.’ She reached out a jewellery clad hand to roll the soft fabric between her fingers.

‘Penny, I have to, right?’ You cooed, adoration dripping from every word.

‘If you don’t buy it for her, I will. I can already see her chubby little cheeks and her little hands and her little smile and- oh my gosh, I’m tearing up.’ Penelope fanned her eyes with her hands, batting her eyes up at the ceiling dramatically as you chuckled.

Fast forward to Easter morning, you could barely contain your excitement as you dressed Charlotte. You couldn’t help the smile stretching from ear to ear, cheeks aching though you could barely register it amongst the joy radiating through you. Absentmindedly, you began cooing sweetly, not even sure what you were saying- not even sure you were making sense- as you picked up your adorable baby girl, peppering her rosy cheeks with kisses as she squealed and giggled, her voice airy and light like a fairy.

Holding her tightly to your chest, you made your way downstairs to your husband. You found him in the kitchen, his back to you where you stood in the doorway as he hunched over a crossword book on the counter. He was still in his pyjamas, hair tousled and messy from a good nights sleep and the aroma of coffee danced around the morning air from the steaming cup next to him. It hit you like a hurricane- the sheer love you felt. It overwhelmed you in the best way, ready to knock you off your feet where you stood as it took over your senses until all you could see, hear- feel- was affection so strong it brought tears to your eyes and a lump to your throat. Your breath hitched as you glanced between the man you loved more than anything you could comprehend and the precious life you created together bundled up in your arms, her fingers clutching the cotton of your sleep shirt tight, like she needed to hold you just as much as you needed to hold her.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you began to walk towards him, your socks padding along the floor beneath you. With a free hand, you reached out, gently shaking Spencer’s shoulder and he turned to face you, already wearing a lovesick smile before his eyes even fell on you.

‘Happy Easter!’ You grinned, lightly bouncing Charlotte on your hip, making her bunny ears flop either side of her face.

Spencer’s eyes widened as you watched him forget how to breathe for a second, his jaw dropping in a mix of surprise and awe before his lips stretched out in a wide grin, matching yours. He let out a light laugh, rising from his seat and bending his knees slightly so he was level with her.

‘Where is my daughter and who is this funny little bunny rabbit?’ He tickled her belly as he spoke, delighting in the way she wriggled as she squealed and laughed in response.

‘Do you like it?’ You asked, shifting her position on your hip slightly.

Spencer held his arms out in front of him, gesturing for you to hand her over to him, your hands brushing as you did so sending a jolt of happiness through you.

‘I think this may be the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.’ He replied, his eyes stubbornly fixated on Charlotte as if she were the only thing in the room and they twinkled with an indescribable rush of emotions as he admired every detail of her cherubic face.

-

Feeling drowsy, you hummed lazily as the two of you shared your memories of your baby girl as she grew older with each story until you were back in the present day, burrowed together in the comfort of the night while she slept in her own room just down the hall from you.

‘I just can’t believe shes four already.’ Spencer mumbled, slightly melancholy as he traced sleepy circles on your hip with his fingers.

‘I know.’ You took his hand in yours, lifting it from your hip to your lips and pressing a reassuring kiss to his knuckles. ‘But just think, this is the first Easter she’s really going to be able to join in, which means we’ve got years worth of new memories ahead of us, right?’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’ He sighed, pulling your hand to his own lips to return the favour. ‘You’re always right.’

‘Of course I am. Now get some sleep, sweetheart.’ You kissed the tip of his nose before rolling back onto your other side, your back against Spencer’s chest as he wrapped his arm around your waist again. His curls brushed against your skin as he leaned into you and you felt a kiss on your shoulder as the two of you finally drifted off to sleep.

-

Spencer woke first in the morning, eager despite the very few hours of rest. As always, the first thing on his mind was Charlotte. He carefully withdrew his arm from around your waist, slowly pulling away from you to avoid waking you up. Despite being deep in sleep you let out a disappointed whine at the loss of his touch, a loving smile growing on Spencer’s face as he watched you hug your pillow in an attempt to replace his absence.

He quietly padded down the hallway until he stopped at a door decorated with a sticker-covered purple sign that read ‘Charlotte’s Room’ in glittering letters. He pushed open the door, wincing as it creaked at the hinges before it opened enough to reveal a cosy array of fairy lights and stuffed animals, pink walls and layers of patterned blankets swaddling a sleeping little girl. Spencer’s heart swelled as his gaze fell on the mess of curls spilling out in every direction over a heart shaped cushion, the only sound in the room the delicate breathing of a child far away in dreamland. Her fingers twitched where her hand rested next to her face, eyelids fluttering as her eyelashes cast light shadows on rosy cheeks. Spencer tilted his head slightly, watching in awe as her nose scrunched up in the same way his did so often and he wondered what it was she was so vividly dreaming of. It took everything in him not to wake her up with an ambush of cuddles and kisses, aching to smooth down her tousled hair and hear her bubbly laugh against the crook of his neck as he held her close. Instead, he opted for picking up the stuffed rabbit that had fallen on the floor through the night, fixing its pastel bow tie before tucking it in beside her, smiling at the way her hands instinctively found its soft fur and pulled it closer before he leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead.

Downstairs, Spencer found himself in the living room fidgeting with the Easter basket the two of you had put together the night before. Sat inside a wicker basket was a rather generous selection of sweet treats and candy (that of course would be given to her in moderation- as terrible as Spencer was at saying no to his baby he was adamant about her health coming first) and taking up the rest of the space sat an adorable lamb plushie wearing a mint green ribbon around its neck. If you were being completely honest you’d bought it because you’d found it abandoned in an unrelated aisle of the store and felt bad for it, not because you thought Charlotte particularly needed it, much to Spencer’s skepticism at your instant emotional attachment to an inanimate object. Despite his sarcastic remarks, he couldn’t deny the way the silly sight of you carrying a stuffed animal in your arms and telling it all about it’s four year old owner-to-be made his heart flutter and soon enough he was at your side, rambling about the symbolism of lambs’ association with Easter (which you knew was his quirky way of accepting it into the Reid household).

Suddenly, the melodic jingle of the doorbell rang out through the room, pulling him from his mind and to his feet as he made his way to the front door, quickly adjusting the bunting on the wall that read ‘Hoppy Easter’ as he went. Through the glass stood the unmistakeable silhouette of blonde curls and colourful clothes, the clattering of jewellery on its wrists sounding out as the door swung open.

‘Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty!’ Penelope’s sugary voice sang, taking in Spencer still in his pyjamas, bed-ridden hair sticking up at the back of his head.

-

‘Not that I’m disappointed to see you but where’s your lovely family?’ She asked as her heels click-clacked through the house towards the kitchen where the decorated eggs waited to be picked up and taken to Rossi’s.

‘They’re still in bed. I’m letting them both sleep in.’ Spencer ran a hand through his curls in a poor attempt to calm them. ‘We were up half the night painting all of these.’ He gestured to the eggs on the counter.

‘Ugh, I just love seeing you all domestic and husband-y. It’s like seeing a double rainbow or watching a flower bloom, it just brings me so much joy.’ Penelope chirped, ignoring the sarcastic eyebrow raise pointed her way. ‘I can’t wait to see my baby genius. I swear if it wasn’t illegal I would totally just pick her up and take her home with me.’ She sighed, glancing at the photo of her stuck to the fridge with a ladybird magnet.

‘You know, I’m not sure how I feel about discussing kidnapping my only child.’ Spencer deadpanned, pouring himself a cup of coffee (his second of the morning) and perching on a counter stool.

Penelope scoffed and waved a hand in the air. ‘Oh, relax. It’s just me.’ Another eyebrow raise. ‘Uh, hello? Her favourite Aunt Penny who she loves and adores? She would be just fine- we’d make bracelets and paint eachothers nails and bake cookies and watch Disney movies and-‘

‘Garcia.’ He cut her off before taking a long swig of his coffee.

She sighed again and slumped down onto the stool next to him. ‘Fine, fine I guess you can keep her.’ She rested her chin in her palm sulkily before muttering under her breath like a grumpy teenager, ‘it’s not like you get to see her everyday of your life or anything.’

Spencer chuckled into his mug and pulled the basket of eggs on the counter towards him, subtly redirecting the conversation. This perked up Penelope and she straightened up in her seat immediately, clapping her hands together.

‘Oh, yes! I wanna see what you made!’ She bubbled as she began rooting through the basket, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as she inspected stripes and polka dots in every colour, eggs with silly faces scribbled with pens, even ones covered top to bottom in glitter that stuck to her fingers when she put them down- not that she minded, of course, practically everything she owned was covered in glitter anyway. However, amongst the pile of pastels and patterns one specific egg caught her attention.

‘Doctor Reid,’ she began, holding up an egg covered in mathematical equations with a puzzled look on her face, ‘what is this?’

Spencer’s nose scrunched up sheepishly and he placed his coffee cup down tentatively before responding. ‘I was beginning to run out of ideas, I had to switch to what I know.’

‘And you think the Easter Bunny is running around leaving equations on its eggs for the children of the world?’ Penelope teased.

‘I mean,’ Spencer started, shifting in his seat and shrugging as he rested an elbow on the counter, ‘if you think about it there’s probably a lot of mathematics involved in what the Easter Bunny does. You’d have to calculate the ratio of eggs to children as well as how many eggs would be needed per area taking into account which areas have a higher or lower amount of participating families, not to mention-‘

‘My dear boy wonder you know I love you but it is way too early in the morning for this.’ Penelope groaned, patting his shoulder in a friendly yet slightly exasperated manner before returning to the basket. She continued digging around until her hand found the almost-disaster egg that you had saved earlier, gasping as she lovingly rubbed the little chick with her thumb.

‘Oh look at this little guy!’ She swooned, lifting it closer to her face to get a better look. ‘I’m tempted to steal this one for myself! I have the perfect spot for it on my shelf between my mini ducky statuettes- Mrs Quackers III would just adore it.’

‘I can’t take the credit for that one, I’m afraid.’ Spencer responded, an amused smirk playing on his lips at her colourful babbling.

‘No duh, I know your adorable wife’s work when I see it.’ Penelope mused as she carefully popped it back in the basket, resigning to not stealing anything (or anyone) from the Reid house today.

The two of them chattered for a small while longer before Penelope rose to her feet, picking up the basket and making her way back to the front door with Spencer following behind. As she walked to her car she turned to face him as he stood in the doorway, blowing kisses to him and making him promise to give Charlotte a big hug from her once she woke up. With a final shout of ‘oh, and for the love of the Easter Bunny brush your hair’ she was gone.

-

Unbeknownst to Spencer, despite his best efforts to let you sleep in you had woken too not long after him, thanks to the mini-him down the hall.

Eyes still closed, you began to stir as you felt the mattress dip next to you, not heavy enough to be Spencer but enough to grab your attention. With an embarrassing amount of effort, you managed to open your eyes only to find a pair that looked just like your husband’s, only on a much smaller face, staring back at you.

‘Good morning, sweetpea.’ You said, voice hoarse. Still half asleep, you pulled an arm out of your warm bedsheets to pull the little girl in for a cuddle.

‘Morning.’ She replied, equally as sleepy as she wrapped her arms around you, nuzzling into your chest like a kitten.

With a content sigh, you gave her a squeeze before littering the top of her head with kisses, wishing you could stay like this with her forever.

‘How did you sleep?’ You asked as you rested your chin lightly on her head.

‘Good. The Sandman gave me dreams about the Easter Bunny.’ Clearly she still had last nights movie on her mind.

‘Ah, that’s good.’ You chuckled, deciding to humour her. ‘We wouldn’t want Pitch Black ruining our plans for the day, right?’ She shook her head lazily against your chest in agreement.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ Charlotte croaked, pulling herself up to look at you again.

‘Gosh I don’t know.’ Humming, you raised a hand to her hair, smoothing down her messy morning curls. ‘Maybe he ran off to start the egg hunt without us.’

‘Daddy wouldn’t do that.’ She pouted, offended on his behalf that you would even joke about such a thing.

‘I don’t know…’ You pondered playfully, biting back a smile at the look of horror on her face that you would ever question his character like that. You loved how much she loved him. ‘He can be pretty competitive.’

Before she could protest, the familiar sound of Penelope’s voice, muffled but undeniably hers, rang through the air and snapped Charlotte out of her mood. In a flash, she was sat up on her knees, hands clasped together in excitement at the sound of her auntie.

‘Aunt Penny!’ She exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear.

She began to jump to her feet, but you were quicker- you had to distract her until the eggs you painted were safely off the premises, it would break Spencer’s heart if she were to lose her faith in the Easter Bunny this early on in her life. Standing in front of her, you bent down to pick her up, resting her on your hip as best as you could now that she was so much bigger than that first Easter.

‘Now wait just a second! We can’t start our day without our fancy new outfit now, can we?’

Success.

Her warm, brown eyes lit up, sparkling like a sky full of stars as she giggled with excitement. A smile that looked just like her father’s lit up her face, sending an immediate rush of love through you. She’d picked the outfit out herself a week before and had been asking you every day since how long there was left until she could finally wear it. Pleased with your distraction, you carried her to the bathroom as she swung her legs either side of you, clapping her hands and squealing with girlish glee the whole way there.

-

As he closed the front door and headed back into the house, Spencer heard stirring upstairs, followed by the sound of running water and as if on autopilot his feet carried him to back to the kitchen, ready to make breakfast for his favourite little girl.

Humming to himself, he strolled over to the fridge, pausing for a second to admire the photo of Charlotte pinned to it- a permanent step in his every day routine. She was 3 years old in the photo, smiling a big toothy grin at the camera with pink icing from a cupcake smeared on her nose as a result of her diving face first into it to take a bite. Spencer laughed fondly to himself, remembering how she’d giggled and batted him away when he tried to wipe it off.

He pulled open the fridge door grabbing strawberries, blueberries and a carton of milk, closing the door with his hip before dropping everything onto the countertop. He’d had the ambitious idea to try and make a bunny rabbit out of pancakes, whether or not he could pull it off was something he decided not to worry about just yet. Charlotte was used to him drawing silly faces in whipped cream, or arranging fruit on top of the pancakes instead but actually trying to shape the pancakes was uncharted territory for him.

Spencer shook his shoulders out and rolled his pyjama top sleeves up as he grabbed a pan and got to work. Making the batter was the easy part, something he had down to an art having experimented and figured out the exact measurements of each ingredient needed to create the perfect texture with just the right amount of mouth watering sweetness, he didn’t even need to think about it as he moved. In the blink of an eye the mix was finished and ready to go, but all the momentum drained from his body like water down the drain as his eyes fell on the pan.

He exhaled dramatically, wringing his hands and muttering under his breath in an attempt to psych himself up. He reached out a shaky hand, grabbing the handle of the pan with a great deal of uncertainty. Baby steps, he thought, baby steps. His fingers twitched around the handle a few times before he tightened his grip, faking confidence. A bead of sweat formed on his brow. Spencer heard his heart beat in his ears, felt the lump in his throat as he took a deep breath and glanced over the batter sitting in the bowl next to him.

Spencer faced danger on a regular basis. He’d stared down the barrel of a gun as it pointed straight at him. He’d lay in hospital beds and on surgery tables countless times. But this? Making the perfect pancakes for his daughter?

This scared him more than anything.

It was very serious business. Swallowing the fear, Spencer’s other hand scooped the pancake mix, trembling slightly as he held it in the air above the pan. Finally he moved, pouring one big circle- the bunny’s face- onto the pan in a swift motion before releasing the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He gulped, biting his lip anxiously as he began to move again.

Steady.

Steady.

STEADY.

Well. It was something.

He had tried to add two smaller, slightly more oval shapes to make the bunny’s ears but they came out rather shaky, rather… lumpy. Spencer sighed, trying to echo your voice in his head telling him Charlotte won’t care and reluctantly, he continued the steps, flipping the pancake over occasionally before sliding it onto a plate.

He’d shifted his focus to chopping up the fruit for decoration when he heard muffled voices coming from the stairs, followed by two sets of footsteps growing louder as they neared.

‘Are you ready to show Daddy your outfit?’ He heard your voice say, and suddenly the disastrous pancakes were forgotten.

‘Yeah!’ A sweet voice cheered, making his heart soar.

After what felt like an eternity of joyous anticipation, the two of you finally appeared in the kitchen doorway, hand in hand with matching expressions of happiness on your faces.

‘Ta-da!’ You sang in a twinkly voice, waving your hands and waggling your fingers in Charlotte’s direction as she ran ahead of you, stopping in front of Spencer and proudly holding out the skirt of her dress for him to admire her outfit.

She was wearing a beautiful white dress trimmed with heart-patterned lace that matched the heart shaped buttons fastening it from the waist up. From the waist, the skirt flared out in a way that twirled side to side as she swayed on her feet, which were clad in white ruffled socks and mary jane shoes. She wore an impossibly soft blue cardigan (which she had picked out because ‘Daddy wears cardigans’), sleeves ever slightly too long as they hung on her hands in an endearing manner. On the left side, right over her heart, was a picture of Peter Rabbit wearing his own little blue jacket. Charlotte’s curly brown hair was tied up in two charmingly messy braids, secured with ribbons matching the colour of her cardigan. But Spencer’s favourite part was the bunny ear headband that sat atop her head, white like her dress and flopping with every tilt of her head. He blinked back tears, envisioning that first Easter, the way the bunny ears of her tiny onesie bounced in the same way as she sat bundled in the arms of the woman he loved.

‘You look beautiful.’ He spoke finally, his voice small but completely enamoured.

‘Wait! You haven’t seen the best part!’ Charlotte squealed, sticking her arms out and spinning round in circles as her skirt fanned out around her, twirling with her as she moved.

‘Woah!’ Spencer exclaimed, reaching out to stop her before she got dizzy. He took her hand, spinning her at a gentler pace as she laughed. ‘Man, you’re really putting my outfit to shame.’ He said, gesturing down at the pyjamas he was still wearing.

‘She’s been waiting all week to show you that.’ You beamed, stepping towards the two of them before affectionately running a hand through his hair.

‘Oh well it was certainly worth it, my pretty princess.’ Spencer gushed as he scooped Charlotte up in his arms and carried her over to where her breakfast waited. ‘And I have a very special surprise for you too.’

‘Pancakes!!!’ She yelled, clapping her hands together as he lowered her down onto a stool.

‘Oh wow, they’re… interesting.’ You winced, narrowing your eyes at the lumpy shapes on the plate, drowning in strawberries and blueberries in a half attempt to disguise it.

‘It’s a bunny!’ Spencer objected, the pitch of his voice rising slightly in a way that had you stifling a laugh.

‘Is it?’ You placed your hands on your hips, tilting your head in an exaggerated manner as you egged him on.

‘Yes, see-‘ He was at your side suddenly, defensively pointing at the plate as he explained his art. ‘There’s the face, the ears are up here and that blueberry right there is its nose.’

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip as you hummed your disagreement, holding back a smile at the mix of embarrassment and offence on his face.

‘I think it’s cute, Daddy.’ Charlotte piped up, picking up the blueberry nose and popping it in her mouth.

‘At least someone appreciates art when they see it.’ Spencer muttered, quickly flashing a smug smirk in your direction before turning back to your daughter. ‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek.

‘Yeah, yeah just go and get dressed, Picasso.’ You jested, poking him in the ribs through his pyjama shirt, gazing after him adoringly as he obliged and began to head out of the kitchen.

-

Later that day things were in full swing at Rossi’s place. Everyone was still waiting for Morgan’s arrival before starting any activities and with the kids not being allowed outside yet lest they find any Easter eggs ahead of the hunt, things were very lively indoors. Rossi lingered in doorways making sure child-sized hands stayed away from the plethora of expensive items adorning his house, having been kicked out of his own kitchen by Penelope who was decorating an array of baked goods with the focused precision of a surgeon. Emily was leaning against the counter, watching her work with a glass of wine in hand (‘What? I’m helping.’ She’d said with a shrug when you’d shot her a raised brow). In the living room JJ and Hotch had their hands full trying to settle an animated debate between Henry and Jack regarding the very serious issue of whether Batman or Spiderman was cooler.

You were sat on the couch, thoroughly entertained as you watched on while re-braiding Charlotte’s hair after it had come undone as a result of the busy behaviour that simply being a four year old entailed. She sat between your legs perched on the edge of the couch, legs swinging back and forth contently. Spencer was sat next to you, sipping his (now) fourth cup of coffee and happily answering the 1001 questions your inquisitive daughter had about the holiday. It was one of the things you loved most about her; of course every young child is curious, but Charlotte had clearly inherited her father’s insatiable passion for knowledge and you felt so lucky to have a partner who was so selflessly enthusiastic and so patient in answering as many questions as she could fathom.

Spencer was mid speech about the Swedish legend of Easter witches when the sound of the front door opening caught Charlotte’s attention, her head swivelling to the living room door as Morgan strolled in like he was the main event.

‘Hey, baby Reid!’ He called, crouching down as she leapt up from the couch, hair half braided, and ran to meet him.

‘Uncle Morgan!’ She cheered as the two of them exchanged the handshake routine they’d made up together that one time he babysat her not long ago.

‘Wow, look at you!’ Morgan stepped back, chuckling as she showed off her outfit again, twirling her skirt with pride like she had earlier that morning.

Penelope’s muffled voice rang out from the kitchen having overheard his entrance, ‘she looks like a little porcelain doll, my heart can’t take it!’

‘You’re not looking too bad yourself, dollface.’ He grinned as you got up to give him a hug in greeting.

‘What about me?’ You heard Spencer ask sarcastically from behind you on the couch.

Morgan crossed his arms, sucking the air in through his teeth and feigning distain before dryly answering, ‘I think you could do better, kid.’ Spencer solemnly shook his head in response, patting his heart with one hand but holding back the playful smile pulling at his lips that way he always did when he was trying to deny that he was actually enjoying Morgan’s antics.

Rossi, on the other hand, seemed quite frankly relieved that he finally had a reason to kick everyone out into the safe open space of the garden, clapping his hands together once- loud and dramatic- to get everyone’s attention before calling out,

‘Now that we’re all here could we kindly get out of my house and into the garden, thank you!’

-

Penelope made her way down the line, handing out three pastel coloured baskets to Henry, Jack and Charlotte, ruffling each of their heads as she went. Charlotte was overcome with excitement, rocking on the balls of her feet, eyes twinkling as she squealed to herself. You watched on happily from where you were sat on the bench, your head resting on Spencer’s shoulder.

‘Is it immature of me to want to join in?’ Emily sighed as she sat down next to you.

Across the table, Morgan scoffed and she narrowed her eyes at him irritably. ‘Please, you’re way too competitive, you’d leave nothing behind for the kids.’

‘Oh, and you would?’ She bit back, voice drawn out and teasing.

Your eyes bounced between the two of them like you were watching a ping pong match.

‘I’m sorry, since when were we talking about me?’ Morgan retorted. Even Hotch had the ghost of a smirk showing on his face as the two of them bickered like siblings.

‘Kids, behave yourself or you’ll both be in time out.’ JJ chimed in, jokingly glaring between them.

Next to you, you noticed Spencer had gone quiet, a distant look on his face and you could tell he hadn’t been paying attention. You frowned, pulling yourself up to look at him properly.

‘Spence, what’s up?’ You pried quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. ‘And don’t tell me it’s nothing again.’

He glanced between you and the table for a moment, debating what to say before giving in. ‘She’s younger than Henry and Jack.’ He trailed off and you nodded for him to continue. ‘I don’t want her to be discouraged if she doesn’t do as well as them.’

A sympathetic exhale escaped you as you rubbed his shoulder and met his gaze. It was a blessing to have a husband who doted on your child as deeply as he did, who poured his heart out every single day without hesitation so that there wasn’t a doubt in her mind for even a second that she was his whole world, his whole universe and everything beyond it. But you knew it meant he carried unnecessary weight on his shoulders. Spencer knew logically that the occasional sadness, disappointment, hurt and all those negative emotions were normal and even healthy to a person’s development and that they were all just a part of life, but since becoming a father all he saw when she pouted her lips or when tears spilled from those big brown eyes was the little boy he once was who had to feel those negative emotions all too often. He wanted nothing more than to make sure his little girl never felt the way he did, and it clouded his judgement sometimes.

You leaned in, lightly kissing his cheek before beginning softly, ‘you have to stop worrying about her.’

‘I know, but-‘

‘But you’re getting in your own way, honey. It’s her first real Easter and you’re going to miss it if you don’t let yourself enjoy it.’ You moved your hand from his shoulder, snaking it up the back of his neck and loosely tangling it in his curls, pulling him ever so slightly closer towards you.

‘Just look how excited she is,’ he nodded towards where Charlotte, Jack and Henry were all running around together waving their baskets in the air as they waited for the hunt to start. ‘I want today to be perfect for her.’

‘And it will be.’ You let your hand fall from his hair, cupping his face instead and forcing him to meet your eyes. ‘Because she’s spending it with you.’

-

Another loud clap from Rossi drew everyone’s attention, heads turning in unison to where he was standing in front of the three children.

‘Who’s ready to hunt some eggs?’ He called, rubbing his hands together.

Three loud cheers filled the air.

‘Just remember; be careful, have fun and for the love of my peace and wellbeing no fighting in my garden, alright?’

Three heads nodded vigorously, desperate to get started.

‘Ready…’

The kids all jumped slightly, the buzz of the moment rushing over them.

‘Set…’

A dramatic look of determination took over their faces.

‘GO!’

In an instant they were off, running out in every direction as fast as their legs could carry them. The adults table became a spectators corner- everyone was throwing out commentary, pointing and whooping every time one of the children found an egg in a patch of grass or behind the trunk of a tree. Charlotte’s short legs moved slower and covered less ground than her older rivals, but she didn’t let it stop her as she darted around inspecting every nook and cranny and you couldn’t help feel proud (and the tiniest bit competitive on her behalf) every time she added a new egg to her basket. Spencer seemed to be allowing his worries to disappear, instead whooping and cheering alongside everybody else and shouting words of encouragement across the yard. He laughed, bright and loud- the sound warming your heart, when he noticed her picking up the egg he’d covered in maths equations and he delighted in the way her brows furrowed in confusion for a second before she shrugged and tossed it into the basket.

While the hunt started with a rush of energy, the momentum soon began to slow as there were less and less eggs to be discovered. Eventually it slowed to an almost uneventful pace, the three kids wondering around more perplexed than anything and Rossi decided to put them out of their misery and call time before their kid-size patience wore too thin.

Once they had all returned and lined up again, it was clear Charlotte wouldn’t be taking home any trophies but the beam of joy on her face was all you needed. When all was done, she immediately ran over to the two of you, jumping up into Spencer’s lap and leaning her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

‘I found so many eggs, Daddy!’ She boasted, picking up the one covered in equations and holding it in the air for you both to see.

He took the egg from her, turning it over in his hands and inspecting it like it was his first time seeing it. ‘Yes, you did, you were amazing out there!’

‘Did you have fun, baby?’ You asked her, smoothing her hair down where it had started to become untied again from all the running around.

‘Yes, I did!’ She squeaked and you nudged Spencer’s arm lightly with yours in a reassuring motion. ‘I want to play again.’

‘Well, we’ll just have to wait and see what the Easter Bunny hides for you next year, huh?’ Spencer grinned, already thinking about what he was going to paint for her in a year’s time.

‘I can’t wait!’ Charlotte bubbled, leaning further back into Spencer to tighten the hug even more.

‘Me neither, sweetheart.’ His voice was quieter now, thick with pure love and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before turning to you with a lovesick smile. ‘For next year, and every year after that.

-

[titans-and-jla-mini-fics]

Batman gives a good example as to why he has the contingency plans he has to the Justice League. This isn't hate to any of the heroes in this either. I love the JLA, but after reading many of these comics and watching the shows I can see why Batman has these plans, prep times and slight paranoia of those he sees as friends or associates. Also I'm a big fan of Aquaman too so... Fair warning there's some Aquaman praise in this.

Batman turned his back on the Justice League members who were scolding him, their voices rising as they told him to get rid of his contingency plans or at least make them less brutal. Ignoring their protests, he whistled sharply, the sound cutting through the tension in the room.

With that, he strode purposefully toward the window in the JLA meeting room, determination in his step.

Batman: You know, when four of you got Jokerized and attacked me, I was recovering from fear toxin. That made things even worse that day.

Batman went silent for a second, the other members backing away until only Superman, Flash, Wonder Woman, and Aquaman remained front and center.

Batman: I don't like having to fight you, but I almost died that day. I actually feared some of you, and that’s saying a lot since I rarely take you seriously. You were in hospital beds for two weeks, wearing those sick, twisted smiles and completely unmoving. I could've been killed if I didn't have my plans. You could've died yourself from the Joker toxin and God knows the damage you four could do to your own cities.

Batman cracked his neck and took a deep breath. Wonder Woman looked down at the floor, ashamed. Flash frowned, his shoulders slumping. Superman struggled to find the right words, and Aquaman felt the same weight of the moment.

Batman: I have these plans so you don't kill me. I have these plans so you don't kill the people in your cities. I have these plans to protect everyone on Earth! I want to not have them and I do see you as... friends... Associates.. colleagues to a degree, but you haven't given me a good reason to put my life on the line for any of you.

No one spoke for a few seconds. Superman cleared his throat hopeful what he said wouldn't sound bad.

Superman: I mean if you could just make them less intense.

Green Lantern (John): Man, that was actually the worst thing you could've said.

Batman turned to face the group, his expression neutral, but the fury inside him was boiling over. He was at his breaking point, the metaphorical water slipping from the pot. While he regretted having to raise his voice, he felt he had no other choice.

Batman (shouting): I am a Justice League member and I will work with you, but if you don't stop pestering me about my contingency plans, I will go insane and I am taking you all with me!

Most of the Justice League: …

Batman: If the next person who talks says something that I find even a little irritating and makes me have those insane people's thoughts, I'm taking away every single vending machine in this building as well!

Aquaman: Hey, just speaking for the group here, but you seem to be going through some stuff and we're exacerbating that frustration. You're still mad at some of us for getting Jokerized and attacking you.

Batman: Which led to me contemplating death more and losing my memory.

Aquaman: Yeah, we said some rude things.

Batman (deadpan tone): Wonder Woman said she always hated me.

Wonder Woman: I wasn't in my right mind.

Batman: Superman talked like Bizarro and almost killed me.

Superman: I am really sorry about that, buddy.

Batman (glaring at the speedster): Flash… go to hell, Barry.

Flash (saddened): How come mine wasn't descriptive?

Batman (to Aquaman): And you ... I actually find you pleasant when you're not insane so I'm not that mad.

Wonder Woman: Why did that wound me?

Aquaman: While I appreciate that, you have every right to not trust us for a while. You saved us and kept us safe while we got better. I can't believe what I'm about to say... Batman, after what I went through, I get why you have those plans.

Batman: You do?

JLA members: You do?

Aquaman: I do now. Batman, first, thank you for saving us after we went Joker levels of insane. I'm sorry for attacking you and all the awful things I said which weren't true. The others are sorry as well.

Batman: You're forgiven, I wasn't mad at any of you since you weren't in your right mind that day, but my contingencies are what I keep for a reason.

Aquaman: I don't blame you, they came in handy; you got us an antidote before we got worse and although my face hurts from smiling that much, I'm glad that I'm better now. If it weren't for your incredible paranoia and quick thinking, I wouldn't be back with Mera and my son. For that, I am eternally grateful and again deeply apologize for dismissing your plans earlier.

Batman blinked, crossing his arms, secretly relieved to hear this, even if he did get called paranoid. That paranoia had helped him in the past.

Everyone else stared at Aquaman, some at how charming he was, the others annoyed he was siding with Batman. Superman was just jealous.

Wonder Woman: I often forget you're a king until you start talking like that. Impressive.

Aquaman: I'll take that as a compliment. Batman, if we hold back on criticizing most of your contingencies can you give us a tenth chance?

Batman closed his eyes, mentally debating what to say next.

Batman (clearing his throat): Apology accepted, Arthur. Thank you for understanding my plans. I can find it in my heart to give you all a hundred and twentieth chance. But don't mess it up.

The JLA members nodded, voicing their gratitude for the second chance. Batman sighed, feeling a headache forming.

Aquaman: Alright, thanks. Now, will I see you for movie night this Friday?

Superman: Movie night?

Batman: Yeah, I don't find you nearly as annoying as everyone else. Especially Hal.

Hal Jordan: I didn't even say anything! And I didn't even attack you!

Superman: You don't find him nearly as annoying as everyone else? I'm not included in that am I?

Batman: Most of the time.

Batman walked past the group, heading out the building.

Superman: Most... Most of the time? Okay I can accept that, but look at him! He looks like a surfer dude! No offense Aquaman.

Aquaman: That's not an insult to me, thanks for the compliment.

Flash: Hm, I see it now.

[chickadeethoughts]

reread this post and maybe this is an unpopular mclennon opinion? but i think they both didn't actually understand each other as well as they thought they did. i think both of them believed the other could read their mind and then filtered their subsequent actions as a conscious slight. like. john should know that paul is someone who keeps his feelings very closely guarded, who will always choose to keep the peace and to put on a good face when he's upset. but throughout the breakup, when paul seemingly stays as productive as ever, staying distantly polite to yoko while urging john to keep writing, keep beatling, everything's fine, time to put on a show, john takes it that paul doesn't care one way or another about their partnership dissolving, he's a perfectly capable one-man band hit machine anyway. this is seemingly confirmed by paul announcing the breakup to "sell a record," effectively ending all hope of quietly reconciling and supporting john's theory that paul was done with the beatles (john) anyway and had been on his way out once he learned he could write a #1 song without anyone's (john's) help. all he cares about is hits and money and his new perfect family and farm.

meanwhile. paul should know that john wasn't handling the pressures of the beatles well. he should know that he needed more support. but paul seems to be someone who gets stuck in his ways of thinking about people (see also: george), and doesn't seem to have ever shaken the image of john as the older, cooler teddy boy on the bus who he'd do anything to impress. he thinks the world of john and spends the 60s thinking they're in a friendly competition, not realizing john has started falling into the paranoia that he's losing. you can see it in get back. paul is waiting for john to write his next great song, to set a new bar for paul to push himself to reach. paul got john by impressing him with his music and when he's losing john he doubles down on it because he thinks that's the only valuable thing he has to offer. he might have offered the support john needed instead if he knew what that was, but he didn't. but mid-60s john, who still thinks paul understands him, thinks paul knows he needs him but chooses to spend his time flitting around swinging london instead, which deeply hurts him. john clings to yoko because she's a breath of fresh air from the constant race he's been running for a decade. a creative partner he doesn't have to chase down. someone who needs him as much as he needs her. a woman he can marry, can have a real commitment to. he can be everything to the person who is everything to him. but paul sees this as john finally outgrowing him and finding someone better.

paul also should know that john often speaks first and decides whether he believes what he said later. but it seems he only ever takes john at his word. when john leaves the beatles that's it, no negotiation, because if paul has lost john to someone more interesting, more artistic, then that's that. when john starts to talk publicly about paul's muzak and granny shit that must be true too, it's why john left after all. and granted john just wont stop shit talking him and it's not like he just fell on a keyboard and how do you sleep came out. but this is how you get a paul who starts to see himself as a villain and questions whether john did love him. he doesn't think too many people was that nasty compared to what john was saying about him in interviews because he doesn't realize that one of john's biggest fears is that he's incapable of being a great songwriter without paul. so to john, the lucky break line is paul admitting he agrees with that assessment and twisting the knife. but paul wouldn't see it that way because he's only ever had john on a pedestal.

so by the 70s, on their worst days, john thinks paul is cold marble statue who knows he's better than him and delights in it and paul thinks john is entirely out of love or use for him, if he ever had it in the first place. and of course, they could never talk about any of this openly because neither of them were willing to face the pain of confirming that their love really was one-sided.

[dmbakura]

felt like writing a little thread on white rabbit from the netflix adaptation of devil may cry, particularly his transformation from a kind and caring person to the cruel and sadistic demon he is in the show

white rabbit starts out as someone who is close with the other makaians, who grew up with them, loved them and was loved by them, they were all family. in the flashbacks he's warm and optimistic despite the conditions they're all in. he fully believes that things can be better.

after the encounter with lady's team, he becomes cold and ruthless. his trust in humanity has been destroyed and I don't think he believes there IS a better now, at all. his relationship with the makaians has also changed. he's no longer their friend/family, instead he acts like their big bad boss

he still fights in the makaians name but he's also put up this wall between him and them. he takes on a new identity and disguises himself. the new group of makaians he helped to the human world don't even know him, they only mention that he suddenly showed up with the device and offered them safety

why bother with all of that? to put it simply, I think it's to protect himself from being hurt again, as much as it is about revenge against darkcom. white rabbit tried to do things the right way at first, and it didn't work. it got everyone he knew and loved killed in front of him.

he literally can't afford to care anymore. the experiments he does on the makaians also check out with his new worldview. it's not just about cannon fodder in his war against darkcom. you either become strong enough to survive, or you die. (wait a minute why does that sound familiar?)

he also fits with the common motif of devil may cry's villains shedding their humanity by carving out their own hearts. dante/nero have a whole spiel about this in dmc4, vergil cuts V (quite literally his heart) out of himself, even mundus has a gaping hole in his chest, etc.

white rabbit replaced his heart with that of an artificial demon's

i really wanna go more in depth on him but i copied this from bsky (where the character limit is very restrictive) and didn't feel like adding much to it. but anyways *slaps roof of furry* this bad boy can fit so much survivor's guilt and trauma in it

[bwobgames]

She decides to hang out with a friend!

Which is. A bit of a shame since everyone seems to be somewhere else.

Which is why, the wonders of technology!

She looks at her phone and sees a clear lack of signal. So that’s how it is huh.

But, she also sees some unread notifications from a dear friend.

She puts the phone close to her ear and hears the first of multiple voice messages.

“Hey girl! How are things going? Please tell me if the train is any good I’m dying for a quick escapade. If I hear anyone else try to explain to me how the stock market works, I’m going to be on the news.”

“Is my baby okay? Did he shave that awful moustache? Please say yes.”

It’s Eva! Her friend from work!

A fellow young mind wanting to live it up in the world of business, although unlike Mari, she had some family capital with her already.

Probably why she always managed to stay cheery even while taking difficult business decisions.

Before Nina stepped in, Eva was her one ally in the rough path of maternity, picked up the slack when Eugene got bored of taking care of his pregnant wife, as he does. Although due to her international responsibilities, she wasn’t available as much as she wanted.

Until Eva suddenly showed up with a baby of her own.

They made a glorious system. When Eva had to travel, Mari and Nina would take care of Owen. And when Mari and Nina were too overwhelmed by work, Eva would look after them.

And of course, they all got to have play dates together!

She’s a bit envious on how easy Eva could take care of 3 children. The second Nina was out of the picture Marigold started to struggle.

It seems that pure unfiltered love is not enough to stop children from chewing cables.

It takes a village, truly.

Of course, someone of Eva’s calibre could’ve just paid a nanny, but she wanted Owen to grow in an environment full of friends.

And when he already got those friends, boarding school it is. A boarding school the three of them got exact knowledge on who the teachers, the directors and even the janitors are.

At this point, those kids have 3 moms now.

“By the way, tell Nina her cake recipe is a godsend. I fought myself not to eat more than one piece of it and I lost. That wife of yours is gonna give me diabetes!”

For a long time, Eva thought Mari and Nina were already married. Which made for a very interesting situation when she finally saw Eugene at the house.

She called the cops.

Eva doesn’t know what happened at the mansion.

And if it were for Mari, it would stay that way.

Owen himself might tell her someday, but secretly, she hopes he doesn’t.

Eva already lost her husband; she doesn’t need to know her son died too.

Died under Marigold’s supposed watch…

She lied to her. She said she doesn’t know where Owen’s sudden aggravation of his storm fear came from. She said she can trust her with her son.

She refuses to break that promise again.

“Also, also, did Vivi go or not? If she did tell her I said hiiiii! If she didn’t tell her I said byeee! Oh, the two lovely boys as well!”

Ángel got along with her, he even played matchmaker with a friend of his! That cheeky little man.

“Bring me something yummy! Bring cheese! And meat! And many many drinks because I have gathered so much gossip you wouldn’t believe!”

She needs that information now.

“Alright I’ll leave you be, I’ll be watching your stocks from the sidelines, don’t worry. And! I booked a trip for the telescopes I was telling you about! This time I will not be stopped by sudden emergencies I swear! We will have a fun star gazing bonanza I swear!!”

“Okay byeeeee! buy me something nice, eat well, don’t let Owen convince you I allowed him to drink, don’t attack people and relax for once!!”

She’ll try.

But first, time to respond

“I need that information. I’ll get any and all drinks necessary, I need it. And I’ll be holding onto that promise, I want some stars!”

“Also, the TV show you recommended? I watched it all in 3 days. Amazing. The second I get signal and a private room I need to discuss it with you, or I’ll explode”

“Currently Owen still has that moustache and I’m afraid his mind is not going to change anytime soon. My condolences.”

“Everyone says hi and they miss you! If they don’t say it, I’ll make them.”

And for a final message, something important.

“That is all, I’ll call you later!”

It’s always nice to catch up with friends, even with both of them being busy working women, they always find time for a tea break.

Which sounds like a great idea right now! Relaxing tea adventure!

Until a pink haired creature finds her.

<PREV START NEXT>

[tsukuharuko]

Haruko spent her whole bath time with a heavy heart, trying to come up with the nicest, most delicate way to explain to Inosuke why she couldn't say. No wonder how she put it, it never felt gentle enough for that innocent boar-boy.

Once she put on her clean clothes, registering how that might be the last time she'll ever wear the pretty kimonos the old lady prepared for her, she walked to the bedroom to be welcomed with yet another surprise. Once again, it seemed like the owner of the house could read her thoughts: the kotatsu had been prepared with treats of any kind, all clearly hand-made, two cups of tea and a whole full teapot waiting for them. Another little magic she would have had to say goodbye to.

... And to make things even worse, Inosuke showed up looking more proper than he had ever been. Not only he was dressed nicely, with the sleeve dangling from his waist giving him a casual, nonchalant look, but he had even patted his hair dry. Haruko stared at him dumbfounded, her heart shriking at the sight. He had grown up so much in such a short time...

"Yeah... It all looked delicious," Haruko agreed with a hestiant smile. She sat next to Inosuke, and gently rested her hand on his wrist as he reached for another mochi. "But... Can we talk first?"

She cleared her throat, closing her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts. This wasn't going to be easy. No -- it was going to be terribly, unfairly hard.

"... Okay, so." She gently closed her fingers around Inosuke's hand. "Before we start. No matter what I'm gonna tell you, you have to know this."

She looked at Inosuke and smiled fondly at him, trying to ignore the weird tickle at the corner of her eyes.

"First of all, I really, really care about you," she said. "And I'm happy I met you. And I'm so proud of how much you've learned over these few days. I know it's been a short time, but I truly got fond of you, and nothing will make me forget about these days." She took in a deep breath, staring at Inosuke with a firm look. "Do you believe me? I need you to, before I go on."

It took a moment for Inosuke to notice her hesitation. His eyes narrowed in focus, as if he was trying to find meaning in every crease on her own traits. Human expressions were becoming less and less mysterious to him with each passing day.

"What? You're having cold feet now?" He sneered. "I know that yokai can be scary sometimes, but it's not like anything's gonna happen to you! I'll have their heads rolling at your feet before they can touch a single hair on your head!"

He raised a hand by his side, and slammed it on Haruko's shoulder in an attempt to cheer her up. A chance that he remembered to measure his strength, or he might have dislocated her poor joints.

"Alright then. Don't stay in the bath too long, alright? Or your brain's gonna get even mushier from the heat!"

He parted with a burst of laughter, his voice echoing down the corridor as he hurried to the baths. Clean clothes awaited them both at the exit, and Haruko would return to her room with her wish granted. A table and two cushions had been laid out in the middle of her room, laden with delicacies aplenty, and two steaming cups of tea.

Inosuke would arrive shortly after Haruko, half-decently dressed. He had only slipped one sleeve of his kimono on, the other dangling by his side, his belt loosely tied around his waist. Long locks of hair danced with each of his motions, but they didn't spill water everywhere as he entered the room. Someone must have insisted to dry his hair tips... perhaps to buy the other guest some time to prepare her speech.

"Oh! There's snacks here too!" He practically leapt at the table, his hand immediately reaching for a plump mochi. He couldn't hold back a little noise of delight as he bit into the red bean flavored treat, the heaviness that hung in the air momentarily forgotten.

"You gotta try one of these, Haruko!!"

[writingdevil]

hiiii i haven't seen a prompt with smitten and cheated yet and im very curious how ur take on their dynamic would be. could be platonic or romantic though knowing me im definitely partial to shipping them <3

stay awesome and thank you 🫶

(HI PINK! I hope you like this one, because I loved the story you showed me about them and all your thoughts on the ship, so I hope you enjoy this one! You stay awesome as well! 🫶)

Cheated liked to think that he had a pretty good sense for when something was wrong.

Some of the others thought he was just tempermental and a sore loser, but Cheated knew that they didn't understand how he operated-how lucky for him.

Cheated didn't enjoy standing by while others were either pushed aside unfairly, or using dirty tricks to get ahead of others. That's why he always defended Broken and heard Paranoid out, and why he didn't trust Oppy and picked fights with Stubborn. It was all because he wanted everyone to be on the same page as each other, because only then Cheated believe that they can get along.

Cheated didn't like getting angry, believe it or not. He didn't like yelling at something that may not ever change for good, but he found that being loud was the only way to get people to listen to him, to make them understand what the problem was.

But he found that yelling wouldn't solve this problem.

He had been the first person to even know that there was a problem in the first place, and Cheated hadn't even been paying that much attention. It just stood out that much to him.

It was a single moment-barely lasted a second-but Cheated knew something was up the instant it happened.

A group of them had been chatting in the living room, and while Cheated wasn't joining in the conversation, he was still paying attention to the people around him.

He was leaning against a wall, listening to Hero and Contrarian yap about whatever, when his gaze was beginning to drift away, to a small corner in the room that he normally wouldn't have cared about.

But Smitten was in that corner.

Cheated blinked, but Smitten was still there, hugging himself and pressing his back against a corner of the room, a wistful expression on his face as he watched the others in silence.

Cheated straightened up, studying the other more seriously, because that wasn't like Smitten at all.

Smitten was known to be loud and boisterous, his mere presence being able to lift the mood instantly. Being quiet and reserved? Making himself invisible and small? That wasn't the Smitten he knew, not one bit.

But Cheated knew better than to draw attention to it immediately, so he waited, now only half paying attention to the conversation, too busy trying to decipher the sad yearning in Smitten's eyes.

Eventually, the conversation came to a close-of which Smitten hadn't spoken up once- and people started to disperse. The second he saw Smitten begin to sheepishly move away from his little corner, was when Cheated walked up to him, trying to look as normal and not as confused as he could. He most likely failed.

Smitten didn't notice him at first, keeping his head bowed as he walked, and when Cheated put a gentle hand on his elbow, Smitten flinched.

"O-Oh!" Smitten exclaimed in fright, not so subtly moving away from Cheated's hand. "My sweet friend, I didn't see you there!"

Cheated narrowed his eyes at the slight movement, but still tried to keep his voice light and casual as he said, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to ask if you were alright."

Smitten blinked at him, as if surprised at Cheated's concern, before he gave him a reassuring smile, waving a hand through the air casually as he said, "Oh, what a silly question, dear. Of course I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" Cheated asked, and he saw the way Smitten's body tensed up, but Cheated couldn't think of how else to go about this. "You were acting a little different than usual. You kinda seemed a bit s-"

"Oh, I just remembered!" Smitten suddenly exclaimed, feathers puffing up in alarm, and Cheated couldn't help but think that they were acting as a barrier against him.

Smitten took a big step back, making sure not to touch Cheated, and blurted out, "I'm supposed to be meeting Skeptic for lunch today, silly me!"

Cheated tried reaching out to him, but Smitten quickly turned to rush out into the hallway, giving Cheated a quick wave and went, "Be seeing you, Cheated!"

Then that was that.

Cheated couldn't do anything but move on with his day, but his dumb brain couldn't get the sight of Smitten looking miserable out of his head all day.

Something was obviously wrong, but Cheated didn't think that it was his place to say anything just yet, not when Smitten was about to visit his brother. Skeptic will sniff out the problem immediately!

-Only in the days that passed, Smitten still looked upset.

It was all that Cheated could focus on anymore. He noticed the way Smitten's smile didn't reach his eyes anymore, his voice was lacking his usual passion and love, and he wasn't talking to anybody.

It was as if Smitten was becoming a shell of himself, and Cheated was felt a fearful knot in his chest each time he glanced at Smitten.

He confronted Skeptic about this, because surely Skeptic had a plan in the works. But when Cheated spoke to him, he said that he hasn't met up with Smitten in the last few days, and that he hadn't noticed that was anything was wrong with him.

Smitten lied? He was hiding something from his brother?

Now Cheated had to get involved, that urge to step in and help growing more and more, but unlike in other cases, where he would demand for justice and fairness and was ready to fight for that-he felt like he couldn't do that with Smitten.

Smitten, at his core, was a soft bird, who only wished to please and shower the others in love. He obviously had his more aggressive moments, but Cheated saw the way those moments disgusted Smitten. He didn't like being driven by hate and anger, and if Cheated confronted him in his usual manner, that might scare Smitten off.

So despite everything Cheated stood for, he decided to be patient and wait, but constantly being on the lookout for any changes in Smitten's behaviour, anything to explain why Smitten was acting this way.

But day after day, all Cheated saw was Smitten distancing himself further from the flock. He just started to shine less, and Cheated was terrified of seeing that light go out fully, for the day that Smitten didn't smile and express his love in the ways that he knew best.

Cheated couldn't understand why, though. What happened to draw out this behaviour in him? Nothing particularly traumatic or devastating has happened in a while, so what was troubling Smitten so much?

Cheated couldn't stand it. Smitten deserved to be happy and to be loved just as much as anyone else, and Cheated refused to let him wither away without telling him that Cheated was here for him.

He wanted to let one of the more gentler ones take the lead, like Skeptic and Hero, but Smitten appeared to have them both fooled into thinking that he was alright, so it was up to Cheated and his loud nature to knock some sense into Smitten.

The very next day, Cheated searched all over the house for Smitten, swearing under his breath for every minute that he couldn't find him.

It was Hunted, that ended up telling him that Smitten had gone on a walk up the hill not far from where they lived.

"Fuck, I hate hills," Cheated muttered under his breath as his legs ached at the steep climb he was forced to go up.

Smitten didn't seem to notice him at first, or if he did, he didn't have the energy to run away from Cheated anymore.

Cheated could imagine what Smitten would've been like in that moment-he would probably make an effort to help Cheated up, maybe talk about how- 'I feel your pain as if it were my own. Allow me to relive you of your suffering.'

He would most likely try to pick up Cheated, and the thought of that made Cheated flush-along with the reminder that he needed to get to the bottom of Smitten's plight.

He groaned loudly once he reached the top, and he saw that Smitten had been idly making a flower crown in his lap. Were flower crowns easy to make or was Cheated just that slow?

He felt Smitten's wary gaze on him as he tried to catch his breath, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "How can you do that walk? Aren't you dying by the time you get up here?"

Smitten wore a blank expression, which honestly creeped Cheated put, and then Smitten tilted his head to the side and spread one perfectly preened wing out and said, "I flew up here. Did you not think to do that?"

Cheated huffed at the question. "Can't, remember?" Cheated flapped his stupid wings that weren't big enough to hold his stupid weight enough to fly. Ridiculous.

"Oh," Smitten said, realisation dawning on his face. "I guess you were dealt a bad hand in that regard."

"I've been dealt a bad hand in everything," Cheated retorted with, before sitting down next to Smitten-who inched slightly away from him.

They sat on top of that hill in silence, and if there wasn't a pressing issue at hand, Cheated would've called the moment quite relaxing.

He bunched his hands into fists and stared out down at their house and softly asked, "What's wrong, Smitten?"

"Nothing's wrong, Cheated."

"That's bull-" Cheated stopped, taking a deep breath before he snapped at Smitten and ruin everything. That could still happen, if he's being honest.

"I've seen you, Smitten," Cheated said. "You're really upset over something, I can tell."

A pause. "You can?"

"Yeah, of course." Cheated twisted to face him fully now. "I can see it clear as day on your face that something's up."

Smitten was staring down at his flower crown as he quietly said, "Nobody else seems to feel that way."

"Yeah, that's because they're not looking for the right thing. I am. I can see what's really going on with people, no matter how hard they try to hide it."

Smitten hummed, twisting the intricate crown of daisy's in his hands, and then asked, "You don't have to concern yourself with looking at me. You won't like what you find."

"What do you mean?" Smitten sighed, lifting his head just enough to gaze down at the house where the rest of their flock resided.

Smitten looked so sorrowful as he said, "All I've ever wanted was to let others know how much I adore them, that I would devote myself to them no matter the cost."

"Okay?" Cheated said, cringing at how rude it came out. "What's the matter with that?"

Smitten didn't immediately answer, instead placing the flower crown on the ground between the two of them so that he could tuck his knees up under his chin.

"The problem is that I hurt people with my love," Smitten revealed, his trembling voice on the verge of a whisper. He took a shaky breath in, blinking furiously up at the sky, then continued, "My love for others does nothing but harm them. I did it to our beloved princess, and I did it to the Long Quiet."

Smitten glared up with a viciousness that Cheated wasn't used to seeing in him. "My love is just a poison that infects everyone around me, and I refuse to hurt people anymore."

That's why he had been avoiding touching people, and not bringing as much attention to himself. He was afraid of getting too close and letting himself lose control with passion.

Cheated gazed at Smitten in sympathy, and no matter how hard the other tried to spin it, the only thing that was clear to Cheated was that Smitten was so lonely now.

He was literally depriving himself of properly being with the people he loved, making himself miserable all for the sake of them.

The thought made something twist within Cheated.

"Well," Cheated slowly said, glaring at the grass below him, "what about us, then?"

"You're all better off without me-"

"No, what about our love?"

Cheated watched in satisfaction, as Smitten's face scrunched up in confusion, before he finally looked at Cheated.

"How come you're the only one that's considered dangerous, huh? You don't think we're fucked up enough to do something crazy?"

"What?" Smitten blurted out, bafflement all over over his face. "I am trying to keep you safe from me-"

"Then who's gonna keep us safe from when Stubborn goes mad? Or when Hunted goes feral? Why do you have to be considered more dangerous than the rest of us?"

Smitten's jaw was hanging open, and Cheated could practically see him frantically trying to come up with an argument.

"How is it fair," Cheated snapped, leaning in closer to Smitten and glaring at him, "to think that we can't hurt you just as much as you could hurt us? Why do you need to be punished while we get to live our lives without any fear?"

"I am trying not to hurt you with my love!" Smitten exclaimed indignantly. "Well don't," Cheated retorted, "because that's a stupid fucking argument." Smitten looked appalled, as if in disbelief at the way Cheated was talking to him.

Cheated gave him a serious look and said, "We could all hurt each other-badly. But that doesn't stop us from loving each other, and it definitely shouldn't stop you, because I could tell that you were fucking miserable."

Smitten was staring at him more softly now, less shocked and more surprised.

Cheated instinctively clutched at the grass beneath them, sighing heavily, and then said with a rising blush, "You're always saying that love is the greatest force in the world or whatever, but that goes two ways as well. We love you Smitten, and our love for each other is definitely stronger than whatever demons you've got inside you."

Cheated averted his eyes, staring down at the flower crown instead. "I know I'm not the best person for you to talk to, that I'm too rough with my words where you deserve someone soft to help you. But I'm not gonna just sit around while you torture yourself."

Cheated then delicately picked up the flower crown with a soft smile, admiring its beautiful and the person behind it, and then gently placed it atop Smitten's head, who was completely stunned into silence.

"You deserve to be protected too," Cheated softly said, watching the way Smitten's eyes slowly lit up with that light that he had missed so much.

They sat there like that for a few seconds, as Cheated gave Smitten time to process his words. He couldn't tell what Smitten was feeling-all he knew was that Smitten was staring off into the distance, and more and more life returned to his face, until Cheated felt like he had made his point.

He turned away from Smitten, rubbing the back of of his neck and going, "Well, I'll leave you alone and stop spewing curses at you." He started to stand up, saying at the same time, "Sorry if I came off a little rude-"

But he froze at the feeling of Smitten grabbing his arm.

Cheated froze, letting Smitten drag him back down beside him so that he could cuddle into his side, and Cheated's brain was stuck in that moment, too busy focusing on the warmth that he had missed so much from the other bird.

Then Smitten placed a soft kiss to his cheek, and Cheated truly was done for in that moment.

"It was perfect," Smitten whispered, and then he rested his head against Cheated's shoulder. "You were absolutely perfect for me."

[rororonyan]

headshots only rn because thinking about a FULL outfit is a way bigger headache

And random facts i'm noting down

Hans/ the nutracker prince / the nutcracker (russian adapted ballet +/ german book)

The nutcracker's name in the book is Hans allegedly. But for variety's sake (and because i'm more familiar with the ballet and always assumed it was a russian story) this guy is russian and is named Ivan. I could not give you his age on account of being a wooden doll but he's physically around 27

He has a blank and expressionless face but he's very easily flustered and very reactive inside.

He has a lot of penguin babies friends and they love him very very much thank you.

Gets along with Pinnochio on account of them both being living doll-adjacent

His eyes are snowflakes and i think that's precious, also they expand and 'freeze' more of his eyes when he's happy

He insists on wearing gloves to hold people's hands or touch them because he's always freezing cold

Pinnochio / Carlo / the adventures of pinnochio (italian book)

Nothing much to say on the name, but did you know he's named Pinnochio because he's made out of Pine wood? He's pretty short, but in this ver Carlo and thus Pinnochio died at age 19 or so, so he is 19.

Lies of P has done irreparable damage to my perception of Pinnochio and it shows in this design i fear.

He's a shy little man, he works as an assistant in his father's workshop, so while i kept the bright fun palette from the known adaptation i kept it to more leathery and working clothes. I might change the cravatte for a bow but the blue clip will stay, it's a source of life or something, blue fairy lore i need to think on. It's also why his eyes are blue.

The little prince / Le petit prince (french book)

He is never given a name in the story and even exclusively reffered to as the little prince. So at this point i'm inclined to believe his officia name iss The (first name) little (middle name) prince (last name)...... anyhow it feels sacrilegious to give him a name for some reason, but if i do name him he's being named Estelle. His age is as mysterious as him. But he's pretty tall, looks around 22

His freckles glow like stars and his hair glimmers like there's glitter dusted on it or stardust

I feel like his design is just too much like the book so i might have more fun with it

I think he's whimsical and playful, he has a penchant for theatrics and games in that childish sense, but he also comes across as very nurturing and mature. He likes to joke that he can use magic- but like.. can he? Or is it just an alien kinda deal.

Momotaro/ Peach boy (japanese children's folk tale)

Momotaro, i'm not changing it, it's adorable. He's 23 or so

Plant adjacent? He sometimes sprouts leaves and little flower buds in his hair.

Very serious, shouldn't be taken seriously. He's not a tsundere type he's just very bad at sounding and looking happy, and while he talks a big game most people don't take it seriously on account of him being short. He always looks pissed but he just has a real bad case of resting bitch face i think.

Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmanuel Ambroise Diggs / O.Z / The wizard of oz (american book)

The name stays because i cannot top this name even if i tried. It's iconic. He is the moment. He's 36.

His earrings are an explicit reference to Howl from Howl's moving castle.

He has grey hairs in there but he will deny that.

The worst man you will ever meet (but like he looks so hot doing it though.) he has the vibes of a conductor or a state fair magician, which is why he's so good at pulling his whole act, and he's so charismatic he needs to be put down. He is full of lies and deceit. I want to kiss him so bad.

Snow white / Snow white (german book)

First name Snow last name white oh my god their parent could not have been THAT much better than the evil queen for giving that name.... Schnee sounds cute tho so it's staying. He's 18, and very holdable.

The flowers on his head are the blooms on apple trees, his hair is in the vague shape of an apple.

Malewife, he's very softspoken and likes to do chores because it's uncomplicated. He also has a REALLY low attention span, the type to follow a butterfly off a cliff. He's airheaded and silly and tends to get sleepy easily because he's always doing chores around the clock.

Alice / Alice's adventures in wonderland (british book)

I'm on the fence on wether i should keep him named Alice or name him Alex.

Tbh i don't think he went to wonderland dude was just SOOOO high. That or he has severe mental issues. Either way something isn't right. He likes to write a lot, the alice in wonderland thing is a self insert he wrote. He Iikes to babble about the stories in his head a lot. He's a lucid dreamer sot there's probably that in there. He is always sleeping, he prefers it to being awake and in reality. In reality his clothing style is a lot more bland than how i drew it (i drew his wonderland outfit, it might change tbh)

Mermaid / the little mermaid (danish book)

The mermaid is never given a name in the original, so it should say '???' Like the little prince's, i just wanted to note down my name for him. It's Finn, because it's a danish name and i have poor sense of humor. Naming a mermaid Finn.

Tbh i might change this one out i feel like there's less stuff to do with little mermaid and i'm generally less inspired

I heard somewhere the little mermaid was actually a gay story but i have no recollection of proof. But i'll believe it. That being said for the sake of that, merfolk are hermaphrodites. And their language doesn't really have a need for pronouns. I also don't know why in my brain the little mermaid is a platinum blonde w blue scales but. I wanted to pull that out.

They're very very very lovesick and daydreamy, the type to stare and just smile dumbly at a wall because he has their favorite human on the brain... He tends to beach himself on the shore trying to grab stuff out of reach, it's almost gotten him in trouble a couple of times.

[novashelby]

The Clinical Boyfriend-Jonathan Crane x Reader

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader Genre: Fluff Warnings: Relationship issues? Mention of sex. Word Count: 768 Summary: Dr. Crane's girlfriend is tired of him neglecting her. And while he isn't the most romantic, he does very much want to let her know how much he admires her.

Thank you @wonderlanddreamer for playing my Cillian Murphy drabble game. I feel horrible, but admittedly, this isn't the best I have written. I fought with it for awhile, but hopefully you like it. <3

He was never affectionate. Always so incredibly dry. Clinical! And oh so attentive…to work. But hardly to her. Even when his body was pressed against hers and they were entangled in the sheets, he was so distant. Often it felt like loving an empty vessel, allowing her to question if any of it was worth it. But she stayed another day because somewhere among all the grey and rain, there was some light. At least she hoped as she laid within his grey silk sheets, hands folded over her chest. His cum rested between her thighs, feeling sticky. 

He had already moved on, reaching over for the lamp on the nightstand. Everything was easier for her in the dark, and when his finger flipped the switch, her feelings combusted in a stream of words. A jumbled, gibberish mess that she wasn’t even sure she understood, but once a word slipped through, they all came. Jonathan knitted his eyes, turning the light back on. She rested up on her elbow, looking at him. “And I’m sorry, Jonathan, I just..you know how hard it is to love someone that hardly even smiles at you? And the dinners I cook, the clothes I wear, every single thing I do for you goes completely unacknowledge-do you even understand-”

Jonathan stopped her right there, a deep sigh indicating that he was nothing, but annoyed. How dare she speak up, right? He flipped on the lamp and felt for his specks along the nightstand before placing them lazily on the bridge of his nose. “You seem to be going through emotional distress…”

She stopped, clicking her tongue, mouth turning a gaped. “W-what?” she asked in disbelief, an incredulous laugh allowing her to choke on her words. Jonathan watched as she blinked away the audacity and shook her head. “Are you….”

Jonathan raised two fingers. “Are you under stress from work? That can often make one irrational and irate.” She could have killed him. She wanted to kill him. Take those glasses of his and punch them back into his eyes. Jonathan looked over her; fingers twitching, jaw tense. “And you’re clenching.”

“Because I’m pissed off.” She kicked the blanket off her legs and turned more directly at him. “Did you not hear me? I said that I am upset about how our relationship is going, Jonathan.”

“I’m aware,” he nodded, opening his hand towards her, motioning for her to continue. “Why do you think you may be feeling this way?”

She was about to respond when she paused. “Jonathan, do you not get it? I’m your partner. I’m trying to express to you how I feel and you’re playing fucking doctor!”

He swallowed and took off his glasses, wiping at his tired eyes before putting them back on. “Love, I’m hardly playing  doctor.” That little, condescending laughing irritated her more. Especially when he added, “I am a doctor.” 

“But I’m not your patient, I’m your girlfriend! But yet I feel as though I’m nothing to you.”

He was quiet for a moment before he pressed his lips together, and out reached his hand, propping her chin on two fingers. “You must understand that expressing feelings is not easy for me. I think and act clinically. I’m obsessed with what I do because I’m passionate about what I believe in.”

“And that is an excuse to neglect me?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not. But my affections for you-my complete respect, admiration, and adoration is completely unmatched because no one in this world compares-”

“Words don’t-”

“I show love in the way I know how,” he said. “I don’t ask that you accept it or like it, but forgive me that I prefer a love language that focuses on the respect of one’s intellect and thoughts before frivolous gifts, compliments, and monotonous PDA.” He leaned in, smiling just slightly. “I don’t ask anyone, but you to critique my work. I don’t tell anyone else, but you about my research, blueprints, and theories. Never do I ever let anyone, but you read my work first. Why? Because I value you.”

She matched his smile. “It’d still be nice if you’d notice other things-”

“I do, but I respect that you have the confidence and self worth to already know that you look great in anything you wear.” It wasn’t perfect, but it was him. “Come here.” He pulled her in and flicked off the lamp before allowing his lips to tease at her neck. “You and I are above the mundane. Including dull, fake, for show relationships that do nothing, but feed an ego.”