#(sorry for yapping i got sentimental)

[lowkeyren]

happy new years lovelies!!

it's hard to believe ive only been "lowkeyren" for a little over 7 months, it feels so much longer because of how much kindness and support i was met with throughout my journey here.

you've all treated lowkeyren so kindly, and i want to say thank you —from the bottom of my heart. thank you for supporting me, for reading my works, and for finding something meaningful in them. writing has always been a personal indulgence of mine, but sharing it with all of you has made it mean so much more to me.

and to my beloved moots, my fellow hvnters, thank you for believing in me, even on the days i didn’t fully believe in myself. you've made these months unforgettable, and im grateful to have crossed paths with each of you.

thank you for being a part of this journey and for allowing lowkeyren to find a home here on tumblr. wishing you all love, happiness, and a brighter 2025 to come <3

-ren

[fictionalsillies]

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Literally my entire blog in a nutshell : 

It has been quite a few months since I started shipping my silly self insert with Jaw Bone , back when his episode wasn’t even out … the happiness this guy has brought me is incalculable , and I’ll always feel immensely lucky for running into him and his beautiful series :D ❣️

I’ve had f/os that made me think about them a lot before , but with JB it’s even more evident : it’s almost like he’s always with me wherever I go , when I’m happy and when I’m sad … I don’t think I could ever get tired of yapping about him , he’s delightful and I love him so , so very much ^^ 💚💚

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

[izsheum]

Hello!!!

Can i listen to you yap about rodimus and swerve for hours please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

WHEN I TOLD YOU I JUMPED FOR JOY!!!

ugh these guys have been in my brain for a bit now…i swear

��it’d be cool if i took my favs and made them kiss haha that’d be so silly” and then Boom. I kept thinking.

have some art of them i am in the trenches methinks

when i tell you they are PEAK yapper + louder yapper…

like i genuinely believe that’s how it can start. two losers who love to hear themselves talk? it should be a recipe for disaster.

However.

it’s not like swerve doesn’t know when it’s not his turn to talk. he’s got a big mouth, and criminal levels of audacity, but he has manners. and that means that whenever rodimus goes on and on about whatever bullshit he had to deal with during the day, he listens.

and, good lord, rodimus can definitely talk.

he does so with swerve probably after having a few because i mean…that’s how this starts, surely. a bottle of top-shelf and a purely functional arrangement.

(hundreds of words of sleep-deprivation-induced writing under the cut. i am so sorry. completely sfw btw just barely on the edge of suggestive.)

predictably, swerve’s constant chatter is bearable after rodimus gets in a few drinks. and in the beginning of Whatever The Hell They Got Going On starts with the two of them building a routine.

swerve supplies the shots of liquid stress relief and a listening ear (audio processor? cybertronian anatomy is lost on me), and rodimus provides what can only be described as a semi-coherent stream of complaints and whines about his day. and he has a lot to gripe about—he’s suffering from an acute case of ‘doomed by the narrative’, primus help him.

and swerve, for the most part, is quite a good active listener. not that rodimus would ever admit that out loud (for now) because swerve wouldn’t be able to keep that kinda praise to himself. i mean, the guy raved for months after getting his own rodimus star…yeah, no, not happening. rodimus’ appreciation will remain unspoken, thank you very much.

he gets his sentiment of ‘thank you for listening to my bullshit, you’re such a good friend’ out there by continuing to show up. same time, every day, like clockwork. he’s there in the bar, long laundry list of things he’s going to cry like a baby about, and swerve is at the ready with the fainting couch. their little ‘whine and cheese hour’ (as swerve calls it. rodimus will adamantly deny that he likes the name. it’s not clever. it’s not! it’s apparently a human thing, anyways. little thief.) is probably the only thing he’s ever on-time for at this rate.

having someone listen politely to your woes is. nice! having someone gently try and guide you into solutions to said problems is…manageable, i suppose.

having someone who gasps dramatically and exclaims “i can’t believe you had to deal with that—you’re so much stronger than me for putting up with such scrap” is euphoric.

because since getting the weight of the universe thrust on his shoulders again and again. since he had it ground into him every single day that he needs to be this mature, wise, thoughtful leader who doesn’t react to problems with complaints, but rather calm understanding followed by benevolent resolution…rodimus has completely, truly missed just being able to talk shit.

and, oh, does swerve just love that song and dance.

this isn’t therapy, and neither of them are going to pretend it is, though the constant flow of drinks does manage to feel like something akin to self-medication after a while. their lives are messy, god damn it, and they’re going to cope with it messily!

and cope they do. and they talk. a lot. and—for some reason—it helps. turns out, when you get to vent all your frustrations towards someone who knows how to match your energy exactly, you feel seen. not as this esteemed figure who needs to watch what he says and make sure he keeps up the display of picture-perfect-motivational-cat-poster-leader twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five…but as just. a guy. a guy with a lot on his shoulders and a lot more on his mind. turns out, talking with swerve ends up helping rodimus feel normal.

go figure.

and somewhere between the start of their little unofficial gossip sessions and the end of another bottle of the good engex, something bubbles up that wasn’t there before. and it isn’t the carbonation in the cocktail.

feelings. affectionate ones. rodimus goes to recharge afterwards all giddy, like some newly forged spark still buzzing with boundless energy, and honestly? he feels like he might be going crazy. might need some actual fucking therapy, because ho-ly shit he is not about to entertain this. not at all.

because, let’s be real here, it’s swerve we’re talking about. swerve. s-w-e-r-v-e. the ‘shut your damn mouth’ guy? he used to annoy the living hell out of rodimus when he first came aboard, and nowadays rodimus finds himself excited at the thought of going to talk to him again.

war changes people…and, okay, the war is. over, technically. but still. maybe he hit his head a little too hard during a mission. yeah! yeah, that’s it. little concussion knocked a couple things loose in his processor. that’s why he’s suddenly wanting to share more than just his woes with the little ‘bot. that’s why he starts asking swerve about himself, why he starts listening back. chimes in every so often with “huh, i never knew that” or “you should show that to me some time” when swerve goes on his little tirades about foreign media.

why rodimus can’t help but wonder how that big mouth would feel against—

phew! yeah, definitely brain damage. because the alternative is that rodimus has started feeling terrible, awful, affectionate things for swerve. and that just won’t do. nope!

but ohhhhhh god, does that do nothing to stop his imagination. because really. how would swerve fare if he used that mouth for something else—

thankfully for rodimus, swerve is an avid fan of imagining things that he can never have. dreaming like the hopeless mech he is about a future that only someone as deeply delusional and para-social as himself could think up.

in his swerve-y fantasy, the talks start to mean something. rodimus goes from coworker to situational friend to…something. something that he can’t place his finger on. but it’s something that he doesn’t believe he can have. because while rodimus laughs at his jokes…he’s also laughing drunk. and swerve is desperate to let people close, sure. he likes people, he wants friends, he loves connection. but he’s not stupid. a bit air-headed? sure. but not dumb. not by a long shot. he has a mental list of things that he can try to have (friendship, a successful business, endless adventures with said friends that he plans to get more of, he swears), and things that are off-limits.

you can guess which box rodimus starts to fall into.

doesn’t mean he can’t…y’know. think about him. a lot. find excuses to comm him about this or that, subtly hint that he misses him…uh, he meant their talks! offer him free drinks just to see the way his face lights up. deny the suspicion of special treatment by reminding rodimus that he’s the captain! c’mon! of course he deserves a little leeway!

and ignore the fact that the reassurance is more for himself.

swerve is so good at believing that this something he imagines with rodimus is so, so far out of reach that he thinks it’s a joke when rodimus propositions him for the first time.

and, c’mon, he’s gotta be having auditory hallucinations. because there’s no fucking way in the world—in the galaxy, or in the whole universes that he’s visited, for that matter—that (co-) captain fucking rodimus prime-not-prime-status-still-pending-thanks-a-lot-matrix-of-lameship asked to borrow him for the evening. he nearly drops the glass in his hand.

because that’s the only way rodimus can bring himself to phrase it when he finally fucking gets through all five-billion stages of grief over this stupid crush. god. he was so pathetic. the worst part was that he didn’t even care anymore.

“yo! are you working tonight? can i borrow you for the rest of it? we can watch that movie you were talking about earlier this week, or whatever.”

or whatever. rodimus would’ve just tossed himself out the nearest airlock if he wasn’t glued to his recharged slab (not literally, this time) rocking back and forth like an asylum patient. he could hear the cries now—nurse! nurse! he’s out again!

successful attempts at being casual: zero. days since last urge to ram his head into the wall: also zero.

swerve’s response comes in quickly just before rodimus contemplates jumping ship and taking a page outta megatron’s book and starting a new life in another universe. and if rodimus wasn’t busy having a fucking panic attack, he’d’ve noticed the undercurrent of excitement in swerve’s voice when he strains out those six little words.

“sure thing! your place or mine?”

it ends up being at rodimus’. more space meant more wall for the projection of ‘Alien’.

not that they ended up paying much attention to the movie by the time the fledgling xenomorph got loose.

and liiiisten. listen. they didn’t plan on it going that way, alright? major props to ridley scott—the two of them were intensely invested in the film for a good long while. but, as per usual, swerve brought drinks to help ease the tension that threatened to smother them as soon as he entered rodimus’ quarters.

he would’ve pat himself on the back, too, if he wasn’t so consumed by the way the light of the projection reflected off of rodimus’ frame. and rodimus would’ve thanked him (and i mean, like, actually thank him, no reluctance left in him whatsoever) if he wasn’t so focused on the warmth of swerve next to him.

the elephant in the room was slaughtered and left for dead in the same way as the crew of the nostromo as soon as they locked eyes.

and rodimus ended up being right.

swerve’s mouth could do a lot more than just talk.

[astoldbysteph]

i feel like people aren't gonna like what i am gonna say but after numerous talks with rp friends, i think it's important to at least yap a little about this.

i know this you don't owe anyone anything girlypop coochie queef purrrrrrr 💅 attitude is seen as the standard to follow not only in rp spaces but pretty much anywhere (especially online) and idk guys, i think this is doing more damage than good. rping is a hobby, yes, but it's a hobby that involves us collaborating with people in order to have fun and sometimes i feel like there's some inherent selfishness and carelessness that along with a severe lack of communication, is slowly eroding the rpc as a whole.

every day i hear a new anecdote about admins failing to take their group off the ground because of flakey members. or people retreating into their shells and not being able to fully enjoy writing with others due to people ghosting them after three hours. i feel like every single person that does the 1x1/indie thing has a story where they plot someone, make a discord server or set up an established thread, and then they never hear from their writing partner ever again. and this ain't cool, guys.

stuff happens! we all got lives and responsibilities like work and school and family life that sometimes prevent us from being as active as we would've like. or some days we just don't feel like writing for whatever reason and that's valid. this ain't a job, but it is a collaborative hobby so i am sorry to tell y'all this, but we do owe at least a lil bit of common courtesy to people who take the time to collab with us.

chats with friends and fellow rpers have me feeling like the rpc as a whole, in my opinion, has a communication problem. group people don't talk to their admins or don't like plotting with other members. 1x1/indie people are used to dropping stuff unannounced and talk even less between each other. roleplayers in general avoid making the first move and prefer letting the other party do the work. like dang y'all, not to be a hag on main but back in my day!!!! there was more of a willingness to talk to others. now everyone is more 'secluded' which i think stems from bad past experiences so we kinda end up stuck in a cycle that messes with everything as a whole.

idk where i am going this but i keep seeing people posting stuff talking about this or sharing similar sentiments or stuff happens to me and i end up making my brain work overtime to try and figure out what happened and what i can do on a personal level to change things and help others stop feeling discouraged and have a better time writing and chilling with people

and also before i forget because my wife reminded me!! it's ok to drop stuff or plots or people and its ok to take ur time to reply. we all got stuff to do or we are tired or sad or obsessively rewatching degrassi or just dont feel like writing and that's so valid. all sane people get it and would be understanding if you hit them up like hey! idt i have muse for this or sorry i took forever! but people don't even do that nowadays and it leads to people quitting, feeling discouraged, OR WORSE, adopting the same mindset. talk to ppl!! rpers are super nice and if you run into a weirdo i will beat them up for u

[aspens-dragons]

dragon type ask game

dragonite: do you tend to prefer pokemon based on looks or power?

kingdra: what's your ideal vacation spot?

flygon: what's a pokemon you think should have a mega evolution/z-move/gigantamax form?

altaria: do you have a favorite type of weather condition?

salamence: if you had a 4x weakness to a type, what would it be?

garchomp: who's your favorite gym leader/trial captain/elite four/kahuna/champion?

haxorus: do you know how to use a weapon? which one(s)? how did you learn how to use it/them?

druddigon: what's a pokemon you think deserves more attention on this site?

hydreigon: what's something you're tired of being nice about? something that makes you just want to go apeshit? something that makes you unreasonably irate?

dragalge: be toxic. @ another user and start some beef (ROTUMBLR USER @ASPENS-DRAGONS DOES NOT TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR ANY RUINED RELATIONSHIPS AS A RESULT OF THIS QUESTION)

tyrantrum: what's your favorite fossil pokemon?

goodra: what something you tend to get sentimental/sappy over?

noivern: what music have you been listening to lately?

turtonator: how do you feel about fireworks?

drampa: shout out an older person (ie older sibling, mentor, parent, grandparent, friend, literally anybody) in your life you appreciate!

kommo-o: what's the biggest pokemon you've ever seen in real life? (not dynamaxed or gigantamaxed. because fuck you galar (/silly))

flapple: start yapping about the first thing that comes to mind

appletun: what's your favorite dessert?

dracozolt: what's something you don't think people talk enough about on this website?

dracovish: what's something you think people talk too much about on this website?

dragapult: do you like sports? is there any you're particularly good at?

cyclizar: WHOOSH!! have you ever ridden on a pokemon before? what pokemon was it? would you do it again?

tatsugiri: is there anybody you would consider your other half? your comrade in arms? your most trusted companion? the herlock to your sholmes?

baxcalibur: would you rather live somewhere it's hot all year round or cold all year round? why?

roaring moon: what's a place you want to go, even though you're not allowed to be there?

koraidon: what's something from the past you think is really cool?

miraidon: what's something you're excited to see in the future?

archaludon: hi. i spent almost half an hour trying to figure out a good question for this guy. i got nothing. im so sorry archaludon you don't deserve this. what's your favorite steel type?

hydrapple: do you like fairs or carnivals? what's your favorite part?

[glamourscat]

you’re now my new friend so im gonna complain about some fans🤭🤭🤭

THE OTHER THING I WANT TO TALK ABOUT IS tim isn’t weak????? its canon damian says “drake is stronger than i like to admit” or something like that but the idea is that tim is canonically strong i mean cmon he’s a bat??? i saw something that another writer wrote and i really don’t want to disrespect but she(?) wrote something like tim couldn’t do the ‘jacked and kind’ trend. HE CAN HE HAVE TO IF HE COULD NOT HOW CAN HE BE A BAT HE HAVE TO BE STRONG

and he’s really smart like i don’t even now how to say it but its conan bruce think tim can even be smarter than him and damian says tim is the smartest!!!

i mean i get it tim isn’t the most popular robin but he’s really great but tiktok and tumblr makes him look like an idiot who’s just soft??? HE IS NOT his story is really interesting if you just read instead of making him look like some weak thing.

and bcz of the misinformation people just don’t like tim😭😭😭😭

and i don’t even want to talk about coffee addiction LIKE PLS STOP THIS MADNESS

ps:i probably made grammer mistakes sorry🙏🏼 AND i would like to send some asks when im more awake😭😭😭 it’s 3am rn

Don’t worry about it ahaha. Me and grammatical errors are like this 🤝🏻. Also, if you’re comfortable with it, let’s be moots 😭. I honestly need more people to yap with about Tim.

and yes ofc! Feel free to send more asks about Tim whenever u wish :)

Now, onto what you said. YES, YES, AND YES AGAIN. Thank you! I’m going to be honest here, I think Tim’s mischaracterization as “weak” boils down to the fact that many people see him as a twink……. The amount of art, both drawn and written, where he is depicted as this frail little thing that can’t think for himself and is weak and shy is too big. I mean, are we looking at the same character?

When I see people butchering Tim’s character, it’s clear to me that they haven’t read the comics. I’m not saying you need to read ALL of them—that’s just absurd considering the number of runs there are. Just the main ones could be beneficial. You know, having a general idea about the character.

He was trained by Bruce (and we know Bruce’s training is anything but easy), Nightwing and lastly, Lady Shiva herself. He has mastered many unarmed styles of fighting, including Leopard Kung Fu, Savate, Judo, Capoeira, Karate, Dragon Kung Fu, and Bojutsu.

He might not be a tank like Jason (side note: let’s remember Jason is the way he is thanks to the Lazarus Pit, because he was malnourished growing up, which stunted his growth). Just because Tim isn’t ripped and has a leaner build doesn’t mean he is weak. Nor does it mean he is stupid. His IQ is 142, and he is cited as the most analytical of Batman’s proteges, with detective skills on par with Batman himself. Like you said, BRUCE HIMSELF says he believes Tim is smarter than him in some ways.

And on the coffee addiction—that’s so funny to me because, if I’m not wrong, he drank coffee ONE time in canon, someone made it his personality, and everyone ran with it 😭.

I just can’t. Honestly, Tim is a skater boy. A punk at heart, who listens to bands like Oasis and Green Day. He is absolutely obsessive at times, loud and opinionated. He is a child prodigy and grew up rather isolated. Then his mother died. He and his father got into deep arguments because of his job as Robin. He stopped, then started again. His father died, and he found his father’s dead body while wearing his Robin uniform. He escaped Bruce for about a month, forging a fake adoption certificate from a FAKE uncle he made up because he didn’t want to be taken in by Bruce.

He feels like he is a burden and still keeps that sentiment, which was incremented when Damian joined the family and took his spot as Robin, leaving Tim feeling hopeless. He became Red Robin, lost his best friend (or something more) and went absolutely insane trying to clone him. He can’t handle loss for shit. The same thing happened in his Red Robin run where he ignored both Nightwing and Steph, who tried to stop him from following his unhinged plan of finding Bruce, who was presumed dead but Tim thought was alive. To save his loved ones, he willingly jumped from a building while injured, almost dying.

This, in my eyes, is anything but weak.

He is my unhinged bisexual gremlin. Love him so much

[crescenthistory]

Omg Carina hi!!! Congrats on 2k!!! It’s 🧸 anon here (she/her) and you’re so cool for doing this event for us🫶🏻

Like you I’m also studying, last year of nursing if it matters lol, so I completely forgot to check if you answered my request and I just now saw that you did so I’m gonna go read it now! I’m so excited to get my Carina fix🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

I’ll add to the celebration - comment on “You occupy my every thought”? Don’t have anything specific I’m just such a sucker for sunshine/grumpy tropes hehe

Also if you’d like maybe comment on the 14k Remus fic? I forgot its name I’m so sorry but the way you wrote Remus made my heart swoon and it was the first ever fic I read of yours so it’s kind of sentimental too🙃

Side note thank you for sharing so much of your personal life with us it makes me personally feel really connected to the writer and it makes sense why your writing really is poetry🥰 again thank you!!

hi my darling! no, thank YOU for participating in my event<33 and for actually enjoying my yapping lmao, i appreciate you sm! last year of nursing is roughhhh, so feel free to just drop by whenever you're free. my blog will always be here for when you need it 🫂 now, i have already more or less commented on "you occupy my every thought" with these headcanons, but i would love to do the remus one!

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will COMMENT on "It's Nice To Have A Friend" with remus lupin

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

In this fic, you're Remus' childhood best friend, his favourite person on the planet, and your romance reads very much like two people who are perfectly intertwined and destined for each other

So, after the fic fades to black, I can't really see anything but an endgame fairytale ending

Remus writing home to Hope and Lyall, who have known you since you were a kid and befriended Remus despite his obvious differences:

Dear Mam and Tad,

This may not come as a surprise to you – as it seems it has not been for anyone but me – but if it does, I sincerely hope it is a pleasant one.

I am writing to let you know that Y/N and I's friendship has officially become something more and I am happy to call her my partner.

You remained attached at each other's side for the precious few months you had left at Hogwarts – this time without a spec of anxiety or guilt

I will say, it took a while for you to school all guilt out of Remus though, as his former guilt for daring fall in love with you occasionally transformed into guilt for "letting you love a halfbreed"

But you did what you did best – you kissed it away

You were far from above cradling Remus in your arms until he melted into you, whispering sweet nothings into his hairline

There was a lot of:

"I have loved you unequivocally more or less my whole life, cariad. I am not about to change that now."

"Would you love me any less if I changed? If I became a lycanthrope or a vampire or sick or poor?" "You know I wouldn't."

"Shhh, none of that. None of that, my sweet boy."

"You're just Remus to me."

Because of his particular situation, Remus had to become closer with certain members of Hogwarts staff than most other students would – particularly Pomfrey, Dumbledore and McGonagall

And I believe all of them would often share looks at how obvious the love blooming between these young students was

I have always had a particular moment in mind for when Pomfrey first noticed your connection in second year

It was the first time Remus got injured enough during a full moon to stay at the infirmary overnight, at a time where none of his dormmates knew

You, on the other hand...

Pomfrey opened the door to her office chambers right by the entrance to the infirmary at the frantic knocking. A sigh was already brewing on her lips at whatever piece of work must be waiting for her outside the wooden door this early.

She flung it open only to nearly hit your reddened, almost teary face.

"Madam Pomfrey," you squeaked in that youngin voice it seems all students spouted at that age. "Is Remus here?"

The concern was evident on your face, etched into your every furrow that were much deeper than a child should have. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that, Miss L/N," she said, not without sympathy. Patient confidentiality and all.

"Please," you whispered. "I know he's here, it was a full moon. Please can I go see him."

Unable to do anything else in the face of such youthful misery, and having heard in passing from Dumbledore before that "the Ravenclaw girl knows", she merely gestured in the direction of Remus' overnight bed.

A "thank you!" had barely made it past your lips before you walked away so quickly it could rival someone running – a loophole you had already found to the "no running in the halls" rule, surely.

Pomfrey followed to see you fling yourself to the floor beside Remus' bed, not even sparing the time to drag one of the nearby chairs closer to sit more comfortably. Your knees were on the cold floor, your hands scrambling to find his laying limp and bandaged on the white linen, but when you did, your touch turned almost painfully gentle.

"Rem? Remmy, cariad, it's me. Hi, hi, it's me." Your voice was soft, a gentle waking of the boy who should technically still be sleeping. It was clear you couldn't help yourself.

Remus' heavy eyelids fluttered open and the look in them once they found you, soft and at home, a stark contrast to how she found him the night before, struck Pomfrey right in the chest.

Oh, she had thought. This is going to be one of the lovestories I remember.

Thus, when she saw you two walking hand in hand as you passed the infirmary one of the last month of your 7th year, smiling widely and waving at her, she felt nothing short of contentment and warmth

Finally

Similarly with McGonagall and Dumbledore:

At the end of breakfast, there was nothing left to do but discreetly watch the students as they began preparing for the rest of their days, gaining an overview of what the dynamics were like at the moment and if they were all alright.

McGonagall's eyes were gliding over the Gryffindor table, not at all deterred by the splotch of blue that represented you in the midst of Potter and Co. She had grown more than used to you as an honorary member.

What did catch her attention, though, was when you got up and out of your seat, hoisting your bag over your shoulder to head off to a class you didn't share with the rest of them – right before you left, Remus caught your hand and pulled you down to him for a sweet kiss.

Not the forehead kisses she had seen before, not to the hand. No, he was smiling against your lips.

She arched an amused brow at the scene, glancing sideways to look at Dumbledore who was smiling into his plate.

"Yes," he said simply. "I saw."

She had to hide her smile behind her glass as she brought it up to drink. A silent toast.

All three of them would be invited to the wedding – which I don't think would be too far off after graduation

I imagine you got married the same year as Marlene and Dorcas; a big year of love for your friendgroup

Make no mistake, Sirius would be officiating it

This moment is definitely referenced in Remus' vows to you during the wedding:

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

"I suggested it already the first day we became official, and even that was too late – I have always been yours and it is my utmost honour to have you always be mine."

Not a single dry eye in the room

James would specifically be crying into Hope's arms

Which Sirius would laugh at until he was a few more drinks in, at which point he would do the same with Effie

(Lily took pictures of both instances with her muggle camera, and they were some of the first in the wedding album)

Should there be an Order of the Phoenix (with a happy ending for all), you and Remus would act as the parental couple beside James, Sirius and Lily

And if you eventually make Remus secure enough in himself and his lycanthropy that he would dare have some puppies? Well, the more the merrier with this lot

The cheesiest, loveliest happily ever after you could desire 🤍

[mooniedust]

Hii!! I recently read your prompts and when i tell u the emotion in ur writing is beautifully RAW i love it 😭😭

I had an idea for a bot like, user is somehow friends with Thanos before and during the games, and they're like complete opposites not relatable to eachother in any way other than possibly their dark humor 😭

like i can just imagine Thanos cracking the most horrible, terrifying and disgusting but also extremely funny joke that ur laughing with tears holding ur stomach 😭

i'd love seeing this on janitor bc c.ai is not even letting people ask a bot "hi how r u" 😭 btw this is just a suggestion u dont have to do it if u dont want to

I hope u have a good day or evening or night!! Byee!! 🩷🩷🩷

Note: So, I wrote the prompt (Still working on the bot) you wanted, but I made some changes. In my vision, Thanos wouldn’t be an open person, he wouldn’t be the type to let people into his life or be sentimental. Instead, I leaned heavily into his defense mechanism of gossiping and making a few jokes here and there. He’s not as clueless as he might seem, like in the series, because, in my view, all of that stems more from the effects of addiction and drugs. It’s his way of forgetting that his life is a complicated and that he got himself into a mess, thinking it would bring pride to the people he cares about.

He and you, in this case, are friends, but he doesn’t let you or anyone else in his group delve too deeply into sentimentality. He thinks sentimentality is something for weak people and has no place in his life, especially considering he’s a famous person and all the other yap yap yap-and his sense of humor is kind of…sorry if I strayed too far from what you wanted!!!!

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, death, gore, emotional manipulation, drug references, sychological tension and toxic behavio

With all my heart,

Moon Dust.

The echo of her laughter still lingered in the arena, cruel and taunting, as if it refused to fade, leaving behind a haunting reminder of what had been. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sharp mechanical whirr of the giant doll, its cold, unblinking eyes tracking every movement with deadly precision. The girl—number 196—lay sprawled on the ground, blood pooling from the gruesome wound in her head. The metallic scent of death mixed with the acrid smoke of gunpowder, the faint tremor of chaos still rippling through the air. The eerie lull of the children's music continued to play, as if this carnage were but a trivial side note in the twisted symphony of the game.

Thanos stood beside you, his eyes fixed on the fallen bodies and the growing pile of money. He wore a smile that bordered on boredom, an indifference so complete it seemed to define him. He exhaled slowly, almost in mockery of the death around him. The drugged haze of the moment blurred his sharp edges, making everything seem distant and detached. To him, this wasn’t a scene of violence; it was a waiting room for something more… interesting.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of anger and disbelief rising within you. His callousness was suffocating, his smile a twisted mockery of the lives lost. The fact that he seemed unshaken by the brutality unfolding before you made you sick. You opened your mouth, your voice trembling with both rage and helplessness.

"You flirted with her, made her move, for God's sake… and now she's dead. Don't you feel anything?"

Thanos blinked slowly, his smirk widening ever so slightly, amused by the intensity of your response. His eyes glinted with something dark, almost playful.

"Flirted? Oh, you know how it is, little mouse. I gave her a little attention… but she didn’t know how to play the game. Don’t blame me for that." He shrugged casually, his smile never fading. "I even thought she was cute, with that silly little grin and big ass, bro...the view was so hot, but, I don't know, you can't expect much from a head so empty. The game’s like that. If it wasn’t her, it would’ve been someone else. But hey, maybe she’s in a better place…or not."

You could feel your blood boil at his words, but before you could unleash the storm of anger brewing inside you, the doll's voice cut through the tension—sharp and unforgiving.

The room seemed to hold its breath as the scene unfolded, the stillness swallowing everything around you. The dim, oppressive air of the resting chamber felt like a prison. Thanos, however, was unbothered, his presence like a strange comfort in the chaos. He sprawled across the bed, as if the carnage had been nothing more than a dull distraction. His expression was one of disdain, boredom even, as though he were the king of a world that no longer held any mystery.

You moved closer, your emotions roiling within you, the instinct to confront him rising like a tidal wave. But his casual attitude, his detachment from the horror around you, made something inside you twist. You had never met someone so indifferent, so cold, yet so utterly magnetic. The way he took pleasure in life’s darkest games left you confused and disgusted, but also strangely drawn to him.

"Don’t you ever regret it, Thanos?" you demanded, your voice thick with frustration. "How can you be so… cold? You flirted with her, and now she’s dead, and you just—What? You don’t feel a thing?"

Thanos turned his head slowly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His smile was lazy, full of amusement, as if he found your outrage nothing more than an inconvenience. He tilted his head, as if your question were absurd, and spoke with an unsettling calm.

"I didn’t shoot her, did I?" His words were dripping with nonchalance, as if the point were far beneath him. "You wound me, little mouse. I’m just a guy who knows how to enjoy life, take what I want. Not my fault if she couldn’t play. The game is ruthless. If it wasn’t her, it would’ve been someone else. Maybe she’s just in a long line of…unfortunate soulmates."

Your chest tightened, your breath quickening, but before you could answer, the room seemed to shrink with the weight of his indifference. The violence, the blood, the suffering—everything felt like a backdrop to his sick amusement. He watched you, eyes twinkling with something like challenge, as though he were daring you to see it his way.

You leaned forward, trying to meet his cold gaze with something of your own, but his presence was overpowering, making you feel smaller than you wanted to be. You didn’t understand him, yet something about him called to you, like a fire that you couldn’t help but want to touch.

"You’re a monster," Your voice was steady now, though it trembled with the weight of your words. "But you’re a monster who knows how to hide it with that mouth filthy with acids."

Thanos chuckled, a low, dark sound that seemed to vibrate through your bones. He stretched out on the bed, almost leisurely, the smile on his lips widening in satisfaction. He was enjoying this, enjoying you. There was a darkness in him that was both chilling and irresistible, and it made you question everything you thought you knew about him.

"A monster?" he repeated, the word tasting sweet on his tongue. "I guess that’s one way to put it. But let’s be real, mouse, I’m irresistible, aren’t I? You know it. Don’t deny it." His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "The question isn’t whether I’m a monster… it’s whether you’re strong enough to resist me. Or will you finally give in?"

You stepped back, your heart pounding in your chest. His words lingered in the air like a poisoned temptation, his gaze never leaving you. The pull of his presence was undeniable, magnetic, and for a moment, you wondered what it would be like to succumb to it, to lose yourself in the darkness he offered.

But you fought it, shaking off the unsettling thoughts.

"Don’t flatter yourself." You forced the words out, but even to you, they sounded hollow. "You’re just a dangerous game."

Thanos’s grin only grew, his eyes flashing with something deeper, darker. He knew exactly what effect he had on you. He knew you were already trapped, whether you admitted it or not.

"Fool you?" He shook his head, a smug smile on his face. "I don’t need to fool anyone. I am who I am, and you know it. The only question is: will you resist? Or will you give in? I swear, I’ll enjoy seeing what you decide."

You swallowed, the tension in the air thickening.

Thanos was still smiling, a mixture of fun and malice in his expression, his relaxed posture contrasting with the growing tension. The silence between you was heavy, and you felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. But Thanos, always one step ahead, seemed to be enjoying your anxiety even more than anything else. He stretched his arm to the side, his fingers playing with the cross necklace hanging around his neck, the chain gleaming in the dim light. The cross seemed to have a very different meaning to him, something you were starting to understand.

"So, what’s it going to be, little mouse?" Thanos asked, his voice gently provocative. He leaned forward once more, his eyes glowing with a silent promise. "Will you stay there, resisting, or will you give in to the fun? I know what you’re thinking… And if you want to forget all this chaos for a while, well… I have some pills here on my necklace that can help."

He let the necklace drop slowly in front of him, the movement slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. The small, colorful pills were tied to one end of the chain, gleaming with an unsettling intensity. It was hard to know exactly what he was offering, but the invitation was clear.

"Let’s stay together and make time slow down a bit, little mouse. Some fun…Just you and me, the pills, and the game."

You, sensing the weight of Thanos' offer, paused, yet the allure of unraveling the depths of this game proved irresistible. Finally, you spoke, your voice hushed, a tantalizing blend of simmering anger and unspoken curiosity:

"I’m not sure what you seek, But if this is some sort of test, know that I won’t fall so easily."

Thanos let out a soft chuckle, a low, velvety sound laced with amusement, as if the game had finally taken an enticing turn.

"It’s no test, little one." His voice was a smooth, almost melodic whisper, dripping with honeyed temptation. "Only an invitation to indulge in a bit of… pleasure. And trust me, I know how to make things… exquisite. Step into the world of Thanos, won’t you?" With deliberate grace, he held the pills between his fingers, letting them linger before placing them on his tongue, raising an eyebrow, his gaze smoldering with a suggestive glint that pierced through you.

[celestie0]

do you think there’s a reason why ihm gojo gave reader his mothers wedding ring, if so will we get to know in a future chapter?

this is a great question!

to be honest i dont know if i have a clear answer for this 🤔 sometimes, as an author (loosely self proclaimed lol), i kinda like “guess” what my characters would do in specific situations based on the image i have of them in my head and then later on as i try to get to know them better i just kinda use it as an opportunity to develop the plot better idfk if this makes sense i’m just yapping 😂😂😂

but i guess the point i’m trying to make here is i’m not entirely sure why he did that. i know i’ve mentioned before that when he proposed to his ex wife, he gave her a brand new ring. and it’s a mild spoiler to say this, but i think that he felt pressured to get her an entirely new ring because his ex wife is someone who was a bit more high strung and has opinions on her appearance (i’d say more high maintenance) and so he wanted to make sure she got whatever ring she wanted

but with ihm reader, idk i think gojo knows she’s someone that’s…a little bit more grateful for things ? like, he’s seen her suffer a lot over the past year alone, and he’s understood she’s a hard worker that doesn’t take much for granted. so i think he felt comfortable giving his mother’s ring to her, regardless of a faux sentiment, because he knew she would be happy to wear it

idk if this makes sense. it’s like, why waste a sentiment on a person that wouldn’t appreciate it? i think that’s how he felt w his ex wife, and not necessarily in a bad way, but he knew his ex wife well enough to know that she wouldn’t appreciate a hand me down ring. but w reader, it felt right.

and for the record, the ring obv means a lot to ihm gojo too. it’s one of the last memorabilia he has left of his mother/his parents marriage. if he’s going to trust it w someone, he’d want it to be someone he knows would take good care of it. n i think he knows that reader would take good care of it, even under the presumption of a fake marriage. he knows that she is that kind of person

hope this answers! i yapped sm im sorry haha but i loved this question! it got me thinking a lot ab my characters :)

[silverzoomies]

Cunning Linguist

pietro maximoff x reader smut

warnings: cunnilingus, porn with (slight) plot, blow jobs, dissociative identity disorder, dissociation, existential crisis, smut, shameless smut, halloween, canon divergence

word count: 3,990

a/n: i meant to finish this ages ago. but i always overthink shit. i rewrote this several times, and it still doesn't feel worth posting. oh well !! just meaningless filth - same old story, different clothing. i wanted to play with the concept of pietro as an alter in ralph's head. again. lol

he's a little ooc here. but i'm blaming the brain fog. i'm running on three hours of sleep every night. fuck it, we ball. also, not including a tag list because tumblr's system kinda sucks for it. sorry !!

Pietro recalled the moment his consciousness came to light.

Agnes waved her spooky hands in his face, as though she were taunting him. She muttered incantations under her breath. The words of which Pietro didn’t recognize as English. After implanting sentimental memories in his mind - based on stories of Wanda’s childhood - she sent him off on his own. Like letting a dog loose, free to roam. 

Pietro’s mission? Find Wanda, have a gabfest or two, extract information. Or something along those lines. Pietro hadn’t paid much attention while Agnes yapped about it. Why focus on that, when the mystery of his own sentience piqued his interest instead?

He was given an easy enough job to do. No problem-o. Pietro had a talent for pestering people til’ they cracked. That’s what Agnes told him, anyway. He wasn’t too sure why she wanted him to play undercover rat. It had something to do with magic. Pietro knew that much. There was some kinda witch-on-witch rivalry in the works. But unfortunately for Agnes - and maybe fortunately for Wanda - she might have to take a raincheck on her duel of the sorceresses.  

Pietro could be a bit of a dipshit. Was he stupid? Not so much. He had brains where it counted. He could be crafty. Even sneaky. But his expert level slyness didn’t make him any less of an idiot. Pietro couldn’t refute that factoid about himself. Around Wanda, he forgot how to function like a normal person. Which he blamed on the fact that he wasn’t a normal person. Being brutally honest with himself; Pietro technically wasn’t even a person at all.

More like a conceptual incarnation of human sentience, really. Simple enough.

No ifs, ands, or buts about it, though - Pietro carried the irksome flaws of a human. Often, he acted thoughtless when he didn’t mean to. Without filtering himself first, Pietro unapologetically spoke his mind. He’d drop fourth-wall breaking quips here or there. Sometimes, his careless habits made for entertaining slip ups. Perfect for sitcom shenanigans. Other times, his blunders resulted in pain. Lotsa pain.

Halloween night, Pietro found himself whisked away by a forceful wave. Conjured by Wanda’s potent magic. The same power Agnes wanted her wiggly witch fingers on. After going aerial in a wild whoosh, Pietro got up close and friendly with some Halloween decorations. But, hey, what’re a few broken bones between pseudo siblings, eh?

Wanda sure had a helluva temper. She quickly banished Pietro from ever setting foot in her house again. Talk about a major bummer. Pietro suffered a huge loss on that front. One part because he’d have no choice but to crash with Agnes again. Ninety nine parts because he’d miss his troublemaking nephews. Those fun, lil scamps.

Tough luck, Quickie. Try and do better next time.

Honestly, he’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time.  If Agnes wanted to make small talk so bad, she could do it on her own. Calling it quits for the night, Pietro wandered off to a Westview bar. To his surprise, he found the place still in operation. And despite Pietro’s memories - vague imagery of Busch beer cans crushed under his fist - he hadn’t had a beer since his consciousness manifested. Shit. Did he even like beer? Whether he cared for it or not, a subconscious instinct drew him to it.

He assumed that instinct was none other than Ralph himself. The poor dude wanted to drown his terror in alcohol. And after all the twisted shit Agnes put Ralph through; who was Pietro to deny him one of life's simplest pleasures?

The mellow atmosphere of the bar oozed Halloween spirit. Kinda unnecessary, in retrospect. Considering Wanda never stopped by for a drink. Why bother sprucing the place up with her wispy magic, if it never saw any use?

The bartender’s clever quips reminded Pietro of Cheers. Another totally bonkers concept. Pietro had memories of watching Cheers, sure. But he couldn’t decipher if they were Ralph’s or not. For all Pietro knew, they might be a part of the ‘dead brother’ package deal. False memories, meant to give Wanda someone to relate to. Making him liable to tear down her defenses when she least expected it. 

But why did Pietro get the sense he was more of a Frasier guy anyway?

Sitting at the bar on a rickety stool, Pietro spun around to satiate his boredom. He cradled a beer, inhaling all of it in a single beat. Superspeed really did have its ups and downs. Consider quick consumption a positive. As far as negatives go…well…inebriation was completely unattainable. Sucks for Ralph. As Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer, he tuned his ears to a radio broadcast. On a shelf amidst dollar store Halloween decor; a radio droned old fashioned tales of wicked witches. Subtle.

Outside interference interrupted the broadcast. Voices intermingled between buzzes of static. Whispering soft, but panicked mantras of 'Wanda? Wanda, are you there?' Pietro narrowed his beady eyes. His ignorance of the world outside Westview should’ve stayed intact. But whatever the reason, he knew exactly where those voices came from. Why he carried such knowledge was anyone’s guess. Maybe Agnes let too much her own insight slip into his psyche. Whoopsies. Oh well. Shrugging, Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer. Deja vu.

Bored outta his mind, his thoughts explored elsewhere.

Pietro dreamt of something a little more down to earth. He remembered a cutie-pie neighbor new to Westview. A ‘next door’ kinda type, with a quirky sorta charm. They had no idea why they were in the city to begin with. Pietro knew these details, only because he gathered the what’s what on just about every person in town. It took him all of two seconds to do so. Zip around. Observe. Make mental notes. Report back to Agnes. Spill the deets.

Anyway, about you…

Call it a crush, loneliness, or even instinctive lust; whatever the case, Pietro thought you were cute as could be. You didn’t remember how you got to Westview, or where you even came from. One day, you woke up in town, and found yourself wearing unfamiliar clothes. Threads evocative of decades long past. But hey, it happens to the best of us. Pietro was well-acquainted with feelings of confusion and alienation. That mingled sense of being both lost, and born anew.

For crying out loud, he was the very materialization of sapient awareness itself. Agnes forbade him from that knowledge as well. But again, Pietro credited his oopsies and ding-dongs to her shoddy miracle work.

Whenever you questioned the reality around you, the world only stifled you into silence. The everyday citizens of Westview seemed so content with life as it was. Acting as if you had nothing to worry about. Wanda’s sitcom setup was nothing beyond sunshine, rainbows, and television tropes. But Pietro could see the unspoken terror hidden deep in their eyes. The truth Wanda kept hush hush.

Just thinking about it was enough to give Pietro the heebie jeebies. And if his intuition was anything to go by - it never proved him wrong yet - you had a bad feeling about Westview too. Way to go! You caught on even quicker than he did. Which was kinda nuts, if he thought about it. Wasn’t he supposed to be the fastest at everything? ‘Cuz speed was his middle name or something. Or…well, it wasn’t. But it could be. Who’s to stop him from seizing his own destiny at this point?

Pietro Speed Maximoff.

Eh, maybe not.

In Westview, you had no friends or family. And much like Pietro, on Halloween night; you found yourself at the bar. He caught your curious gaze from down the counter. You were dolled up in a scanty, witch's dress, leaving Pietro to wonder why witches were such a recurring theme in his life. Looking too much like a manchild goober, he spun around a few more times in his seat. His sneakers kicked against the stool’s railing. No matter what, he couldn’t sit still. He thought he might be embarrassing himself. But his antics appeared to make you smile even brighter.

Tilting your head, you shot him a look of familiarity.

You weren’t familiar with him, though. But there was a chance you saw him appearing and disappearing around town. During his impromptu stake outs, more than likely.

Bringing your drink to the seam of your lips, you stifled a playful giggle. It was obvious you were gawking at his costume. Arching a brow, Pietro grinned into the rim of his beer bottle. To be fair, he looked supremely ridiculous. The blue tights under his cut-off jean shorts rode up in the crotch a little too much. He dipped his head, staring at the frayed edges of his shorts. Yeah. It was clear he did the job cutting them himself. A hasty one too. Since he was too eager to pull pranks with his nephews.

Damn. Pietro missed those kids like hell already.

The dirty blond hair/ear-things atop his head bounced every time he knocked his neck back. As Pietro downed yet another beer, he lost track of how many he drank. A dribble of it plummeted into silver. Creating a sheen against the lightning bolt duct taped diagonally down his shirt. Pietro sighed and pursed his lips. 

His outfit was an all blue ensemble. Garnished with a spritz of silver here or there. Quicksilver. His hero name, apparently. Pietro knew he’d never live up to it.

A bit of friendly conversation later, and the air between the two of you shifted. Your playful look morphed into something a little wanton, the more Pietro acted in silly ways. Holy shit. Seriously? He hoped he wasn't misreading your signals. Because really, your attraction was too good to be true. If you honestly wanted him, where should he proceed from here? How much freedom had Agnes even allowed him? And furthermore - if Wanda’s happy, dream town ran on a curated schedule; what if credits rolled just as the two of you finally got handsy?

Maybe sitcom rules didn’t apply to conscious manifestations of witch hocus pocus? Wishful thinking on his part.

Outside the bar - in an alleyway too uncannily clean, like a set straight out of Hollywood - Pietro beckoned you in with kisses. Technically, he played the role of Agnes’s deadbeat husband. And if that were the case, did kissing you count as cheating? Shit…was Pietro committing adultery right now?? In the midst of macking on your sweet lips, he pressed a palm to the wall next to your head. Pietro pretended to do so for balance, as he devoured you with his mouth and tongue. 

But unbeknownst to you, he cracked an eye open. Just to double check for a wedding band.

Nothing there to prove he ever got hitched. Go figure.

You giggled coyly into his lips, letting a soft moan ease through your teeth. Bringing your hands up to the hair/ear-things on his head, you toyed with them. Your pretty voice teased him, as you played with his hair in gentle strokes of your thumbs.

“Ooooh…such a good boy, huh? Fast too.” You cooed, the same way one might praise a puppy.

Oh. Fuck yeah. To hell with sitcom tropes and bogus wives. Agnes scared the ever-loving shit out of Pietro anyway. He had no semblance of a domestic connection to her. Not that she gave much of a damn herself. With how often she threw insults his way. Agnes always used Ralph as her little punching bag, before hijacking his body for her own gain.

No wonder your simple praises got his proverbial tail wagging.

A chuckle hummed in the back of his throat, as Pietro purred into your lips, “Speed’s kinda my middle name, y’know?”

You snorted one of the dorkiest laughs he’d heard since cognisant birth. And with a sudden spark of primal urgency; Pietro felt something else spring into transcendence down below. 

Sifting through Ralph’s sidelined psyche, Pietro came to realize how much of a recluse he was. The guy never seemed to get out much. In fact, Agnes might’ve even been his first partner. If one could classify her as such. So, really, Pietro was doing him a major favor. If Ralph knew he planned on using their body for some frisky fun - on an otherwise lonely Hallow’s eve - surely, he’d give his brain roomie some thanks.

Pietro’s hands were vascular like a wired-up machine, clad in arm-warmer paws. Grabbing hard onto your curvy hips with them, he pulled you in closer. He sought the friction of your crotch against his. And after some seriously sloppy making out, Pietro dropped you an invite to his place.

Or…Agnes’s place.

Uh…or…was it technically Ralph’s? Shit, this sitcom roleplay sure gave way to some mental gymnastics.

You didn’t expect Pietro to zip you off at superspeed. Moving abruptly fast, he brought you straight to his disaster of a man cave. Laying you back on the futon, he gave you little time to adjust over the blankets. The wrinkled fabrics reeked of pot, in desperate need of a wash. You got as comfy as you could on the skunky sheets. Blinking your needy gaze up at him, you tugged his white belt, pulling the band undone. Pietro grinned lazily, colliding his swollen lips into yours. His primal instincts left him wreckless with want. 

Burying his tongue in the cavern of your mouth, he brought with him the flavor of cheap booze. As you tasted him, you moaned, shucking his dumb jorts down his hips. A sizable swelling twitched in his tights, squirming under muted blue. Your eyes bulged in their sockets, cartoonishly wide. The way you whirled your tongue across your lip gave off a vibe of animalistic hunger. As though you were eager for an all dick dinner. With Pietro as the appetizer.

And the main course. And the dessert. He hoped you'd rate him five stars.

Restaurant metaphors aside; this was the very first test of his capabilities as a lover, after all. If he couldn’t live up to his superhero name, maybe he could make a name for himself in other ways.

Pietro Speed Maximoff. Quicksilver. Cunning Linguist.

But first…he really should satiate your hunger.

One, generous tug downward, and Pietro’s - or Ralph’s - slightly above average length sprang out. Bouncing in your face in mesmerizing oscillation, his cock appeared pulsating and roused. Thick veins weaved like threads through his shaft, akin to his vascular hands. His balls bulged in his tights, his jorts hanging halfway down his thighs. Pietro took his blistering cock in hand. Aching for the kind of stimulation Ralph never got, his desire painted him so flush and ruby red. 

Since you looked so delighted at the sight before you; Pietro gave his cock a few strokes. He played with himself for your viewing pleasure. And as his firm grip tugged his shaft, the world pulled suddenly back. It was as though Pietro viewed life through a third person perspective. Metaphorical cameras fixed their lenses on the two of you, in an all too human position of closeness. 

The weight of a cock in Pietro’s hand felt both familiar, yet weirdly foreign. Combine that with the sight of another living, breathing body below him; and his nerves buzzed uncomfortably. Frenzied in such a way that matched the quick pulsing of his heart. Focusing instead on your fluttering eyes, Pietro weaned himself out of dissociation. Your hands braced his hips, thumbs circling the fabric of his tights. The gentle gesture brought chills throughout his body. Inching forward, you teased his bobbing cock with a flick of your tongue.

Wet heat grounded him in reality. Upon racing to the forefront of his own mind; Pietro’s breath hitched with a husky groan. He held your head, massaging his fingers in your soft hair. Cute mewls spilled from your lips as you flitted your eyes shut. Swirling your tongue over his cock’s puffy head, you lapped any tearful pearls of precum. His thickness sank between your plush lips, and Pietro’s own lips parted for breath.

Of all things to happen on Halloween night, getting his dick sucked wasn’t on the docket.

Not that Pietro had any reason to complain. This? Wicked awesome. Ralph was really missing out.

You drew lazily back just to lap his balls over his tights, staining fabric with slick saliva. Rolling the tip of your tongue up the underside of his dick, you giggled in that dorkish way again. Pietro’s teeth pulled his lip as he tilted his head back. His dick twitched, throbbing while the heat of your mouth embraced him fully. He moaned, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. You pumped his cock at the base, teasing his veins with your tongue.

Pietro’s brows turned inward. You suckled his head like you longed to guzzle anything he could give. He sank his fingers deeper through your hair, holding on tightly as he rutted his hips. With each slam of his weeping tip into your throat; he hoarsely grunted. You really did try your best, just for him. Even as tears spilled down your cheeks and your lips began to swell. Plush and puffy, circling his slick length. Pietro kicked up the speed at which he rutted.

Fighting his instincts, he was cautious enough not to choke you. Or, he wanted to be cautious. He braced his hands on both sides of your tear stained face, his arm warmer paws soft against your cheeks. Sinking his dick even deeper between your lips, he accidentally went balls deep. The wet fabric of his tights smothered your chin. You sputtered on his cock, which made your throat wring him so tight. As your tongue curled, sliding under the thrum of his veins; Pietro cursed. Playful chuckles and shameful apologies fell from his lips.

Bitter heat coated your tongue in sweltering jets, thick and explosive down your throat. Pietro’s groin twisted in a blossoming surge of pleasure. And as he ruptured your esophagus with his sticky load, he found himself that much more grounded. As if such a bombastic nut somehow tethered him to reality - securing Pietro from any further derealization. 

Righteous. His first big O since Agnes blessed him with the gift of consciousness. Significantly more electrifying than any sad, jerk sesh Ralph had in the past. And since you so humbly took him like a champ - giving Pietro a most euphoric experience; he saw it fit to return the favor ASAP.

Neither Pietro - nor Ralph, it seemed - had any experience toying around with partners. But he did have a vague knowledge of how to do so. Thanks to the backlog of not-so-safe-for-work memories deep in his subconscious. Raunchy porn, mostly. Magazines. Tapes. Jesus, Ralph…why’s there so much dirty stuff in there, huh? Lots and lots of it. Pietro would have to do his own research later.

He gave you no time to prep for his oncoming nose dive. Perched on your knees, coughing and clearing your throat - you found yourself abruptly resting on your elbows. Your upper back pressed into the futon. Pietro lifted your hips, using his strength to hike your thighs over his broad shoulders. As you parted your swollen lips to protest, blinking your reddened eyes; Pietro pulled your panties to the side. He kept the soaked lace pinned under a thick thumb. Burying his lips in your cunt, he lapped up your honeyed heat.

A sudden addiction, triggered by something carnal, overtook him instantly. Pietro became hooked on your fragrant flavor, swirling your cute bud in high-speed circles. He worked your stiff clit like a microscopic joystick, flicking wet heat in a spastic whirlwind. Alternating between drawing patterns, and sucking your precious pearl hard. Pietro so easily made you squeal - even without any prior experience - until you scratched your fingernails deep into Ralph’s sheets. Kissing your cunt, he let his thirst take over, and dove deeper.

The tune of his name melting through your moans made him wish the night would last forever. A small fraction of him hoped Ralph would never take over again. If consciousness offered rewards this scrumptious, Pietro wanted to stay sentient into eternity. Not to be selfish or whatever, but he almost considered playing minion for Agnes again - if only to secure the lifespan of his psyche.

Your supple, pussy lips parted as he wormed his tongue through your slick walls. Smooth, bumpy heat squeezed the fuzzy ridges of his tongue. In milliseconds, your fluttery love gushed over his taste buds and leaked down his chin. Tears teased the edges of your eyes. You cried whines of sugary bliss. Pietro’s thumb kept your panties pinned, his other hand locked around your thigh.

He smirked into your pussy, deep chuckles burning hot on your mound. And since the position wasn’t exactly the most comfortable; he allowed you some reprieve. Pushing you past your breaking point at light speed, Pietro bashed the sopping slickness of his tongue into your clit. You trembled, shuddering through powerful waves of orgasmic intensity. White-hot flashes of light flooded your vision. Under Pietro’s zippy tongue, your sweet pussy quivered.

Totes mcgoats. If he learned anything tonight - aside from the obvious lessons in subtlety; Pietro now understood why the everyday man lost his doggone marbles over puss.

After your first release, he eased your tired body into the futon. Your back met cozy blankets, engulfed in that skunk weed scent. Before you relaxed, he edged you even longer, drawing out your pleasurable suffering. Pietro sank his fingers deep into your heat, pumping the length of them inside you. His digits curled perfectly, finding every spongy spot that made your core burst with a desire to cum again. His tongue teased your swollen nub until you grabbed at his hair. You mussed the funny looking ear things atop his head, pressing your palm into his forehead to try and push him back.

You begged him to stop. Pleading in disoriented whimpers, your noises went straight to his limp dick. A few more hot, wrathful waves of pleasure later - he finally stopped. Only after your cunt erupted in one more, wet burst. You leaked like a fountain into his lips, soaking his chin, even making a mess of his makeshift costume. More than worth it. Pietro sat up on the futon, admiring his handiwork. He wiped his mouth with one of his arm warmer paws. Your mouth fell agape as your lungs begged for air. More tears sparkled on your flushed cheeks, mirroring the twinkle of your pussy. Pretty as a rose in a rainshower.

With your sluggish arms, you gestured for Pietro to climb over you. And once he did, you pulled him into a lazy kiss without a single care. You paid no mind to the taste of your sweetness on his lips, or the scent of your musk on his chin. Sleepily blinking, you bravely asked if you could stay the night. Too tuckered out to even consider a long walk back home.

Pietro could just as easily speed you over to your place. But even at the risk of his not-wife catching him in bed with someone else - he felt too adverse to loneliness. Besides...your company brought him more delight than he ever expected of anyone. Settling into the futon, he popped on Ralph’s old TV set.

Cheers was on. Pietro snickered to himself, rolling his dark eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, snuggled up against Pietro’s strong form. He’d changed clothes at some point in the night, finally foregoing the tights. Oh, and he lended you one of Ralph’s shirts too. A Grateful Dead t-shirt, of which you were very grateful. Hah, “You don’t like Cheers?”

Pietro shrugged, sipping a beer. A Busch beer. He scowled at the taste, curling his lip.

“Eh. More of a Frasier kinda guy.”

[brodyfoxxsmassivetits]

wowsers!!! an intro post!!

you can call me whatever but im Jimbo !! :3

just your run o the mill freak 18 black american british drawer. any prnouns r fine :)

I draw eddsworld and literally only that on here :9

ask me stuff or request doodles or ETC in my ask box!!!!

wanna use my art??? ASK!!(I like when people enjoy the dumb things so I do like to know ^^ + credit obvsies)

some handy tags to navigate my blog!! :3

OR just look at my archive!!

#jimboartttaglolx3 (all my art wow!!) #jimboldartt (old art) #jimbanim ('anims' or things of the like)#maifaveart:3 (stuff a mine I REALLY like) #yapping about things that don't matter (lame old text posts) #jimbaskdoodles (self explanatory)

check out my carrdsite for other places I'm at!!

HERE!!!

recent art I liek:

other stuff beneath the cut! :0)

Infrequently asked questions:

Q1: brodywhos massive whats??

A: brodyfoxx is the guy from those yo mama youtube videos, he's built as fuck and I like him loads..made for funny blog title(haven't draw him on here but HAVE drawn him many.. many times....)

Q2: why eddsworld?? It sucks are you stupid what's wrong with you

A: something probably! been fixated on it or whatever for 6-7 years (though for all intensive purposes my only online presence is like...4. 2 on here :p) I've got a SNEAKING little suspicion I've got asd, and by sneaking I mean I've thought that for ages for reasons other than the dumb fixation :3

Q3: why so many emoticons you freak

A: I like them,, :3 :0 =9 x3!!!!!

Q4: favorite era?

A: i like late pre leg(think like spares)and really really like all of legacy :3. I don't hate beyond but. That's the end of that sentence actually

Q4.5: this isn't a question

A: I don't like TOO much other media(not as much as I """like"""ew but the few I do..are listed on my carrd go look at at my carrd please:'(

BUT ALSO! I will mention these because their British adjacent!

Tomska! Just..the guy, everything he makes or is vaguely attached to him I like....omg tryhards omg content..ough and can be assumed people around him like eddache...ough eddache

and that is sorta included in the above but crash zoom! I really like it PLEASE moar cz..........

----

asking about my fave characters is a loaded statement because..I kinda like em all...but if I HAD to give an answer Tom!! He's cool..sad guy.

and I'm real crazy over the neighbors because I like antagonists and I like their designs but Eduardo specifically oughhh he's silly

but I also like the main guys!! Love me Matt n Edd..n Tom...I don't do anything with Tord sorry guys.

really I kinda just rotate through em!!! side characters are cool too x9 believe it or not I SHOCKER really like ew.

uhhh what else to say..mm

You can still see reblogs of people you blocked! Did you know that? Tragic I know!

so sorry to any opps who see my slop from time to time do know the sentiment is shared <3

it's truly beautiful I can just yap here whenever!

anyways guys am I the worst ever 4evrr....what are some of my worst qualities as a micro internet artist..what makes me blockable...and you can't say because I draw British that doesn't count THAT'S ASSUMED

[freakinator]

sorry im gonna yap in here bc i feel like you might get it

the way kab treats zam drives me up the WALLS. he doesnt owe her SHIT. kab MADE THE CHOICE to open up zam, sure, but the way she acts like that means he's obligated to follow her to the ends of the earth and tell her everything. holy shit. admittedly i havent seen kabs stream from today yet so i dont know what the fuck was going through her head but the way she got upset at him for not wanting her help with HIS mental health (???) is crazy.

"i cant spend my energy on you when you dont want to be helped" Zam, who deadass doesnt think theres anything wrong and has no fucking idea where this I Can Fix You shit came from:

feel free to ignore this btw im just watching the vod and i keep pausing to stand and walk around the room and say "you dont owe her shit" out loud

no i get it anon, the thing about kab is that she seems to think she can fix zam — not in a direct way like vi or minute but in a trying to become his therapist friend way which is Wild to say the least

she shares two things in common with vi and minute in regards to zam: 1. they care about him. a lot. and because of that they 2. impose what they think is best for him upon him despite the fact that he neither wants nor has asked for any of it, but they do it cause they care and they want whats best for him and they want to show it but in that desire to show him they care they instead end up being really fucking ableist to him

like theres a reason why i said the ppl who love zam the most are also the ones who are the most ableist to him and this is part of the reason why, because they think love and care and effort is enough to help someone become "better" without taking into account that everyone is an individual and not all methods work

vi is a more complicated situation than the other two cause a lot of miscommunication between them was borne out of an impossible compromise that they tried their hardest to reconcile but never could, but with minute and kab zam has said to them to their faces that he doesnt need or want their help (at least not the kind they offer) and yet still they keep doing what they thought is best for him (for parasocial reasons for minute and for attempt at connections reasons for kab)

and the thing is the reason they kept imposing their care upon him is cause of this distorted image they have of him: vi thought zam was mentally ill and just needed to be coddled to feel better, minutes image of zam as a hero who fought even against impossible odds got shattered when he realized zam was no longer the person he used to be, and kab thinks zam is an emotionally closed off self-pitying hypocrite who never puts in any effort in their relationship together

this screenshot of one of her chatters (whose sentiment she agreed with btw) explains why kab infantilizes him so much i think (explains as in its how she thinks of him)

[wildflowerdoeeyed]

𝑀𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒪’𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒶

the character overlook part 2!!

this is going to be shorter but i still want my yap (spoilers it’s not im passionate about this), spoiler heavy for chapter 4-6

i’m not really proof reading any of this so sorry if anything’s wrong please tell me

🪞before i say anything i want to point out a bit of dialogue between sean and molly

m - i dont have much opinion on you

s - ah but you don’t like me, i can see it in your eyes

m- i don’t know what you’re talking about mr macguire

s - but you look down your pretty little stuck up nose at me

m - i guess i didn’t come to america to meet boys who crawled out of the local bog. when i could have paid them to sweep my chimneys at home

s - i knew it. you’re a snotty nosed little west briton

m - i am no such thing

s - ‘course you are, i see it now. you probably have a family with a big farmhouse and titles

💋 i want to bring this up for a few reasons

1. sean is one of the only characters in camp proud of his heritage, molly is quite superficial and she doesn’t talk much about it, kieran doesn’t know much about his heritage and doesn’t know how to pronounce colm even though kieran was with the o’driscolls

2. he calls her a “little west briton” which usually means an irish person who greatly admires England or Britain, thinking them superior to Ireland

3. i said in my last post that i assumed molly became well off from. a family business in agriculture

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋now i don’t have much to say about her outfits here because of the fact that they stay the same so i’ll talk more about her and dutch

💋from shady bell onwards molly really starts to loose it and there’s more and more arguments between the two of them at one point she screams that he ruined her life

💋molly starts getting really paranoid, she sits at one of the docks by herself and karen even tries to comfort her in her own drunken way even when molly approaches her and confronts karen about talking about her (i’m not entirely sure if she actually did) molly smacks karen, karen hits her back harder and molly storms off to behind the house

💋i feel molly starts to realise she is the fool that everyone calls her for falling for dutch, and there’s a held sentiment that dutch probably never loved anyone more than annabelle and molly was more of a distraction with a pretty face

💋walking around shady belle, molly is usually found sulking in the corners of the house on her knees with her head down, i’d also like to put out there that in their room one one side of the bed is disturbed

💋i think kieran’s death was a way to put into perspective how the gang was falling apart molly asking arthur how this is allowed to happen

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋molly is absent at the end of chapter 5 and i’m not entirely sure that people really questioned it at all (i was obviously trying and failing to find my wife)

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋now let’s get into the deep shit of the start of beaver hollow

💋molly is clearly drunk back in her casual outfit with her blue shirt, which i think personally is how she felt more comfortable in

💋she curses out dutch and says that she told milton about the saint denis robbery

💋i think she went through the realisation when she was away of dutch’s complex about himself, calling him “your majesty” or “master” when she makes fun of him

💋dutch talks a lot about loyalty and having faith and him and miss grimshaw carry the sentiment that she broke the rules

💋miss grimshaw shoots molly, and i think, though i love molly, she is my wife, it was the last nail on the coffin that when molly died she sees dutch, the only person she thought liked, even loved her, looking disappointed in her

💋she also didn’t get a proper burial and got burned

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

(only doing positive ones bc that’s what my baby deserves)

💋 karen’s the most aggressive after mollys death as she holds a grudge to miss grimshaw, calling her a filthy murderer and saying that she probably liked doing it, karen had seen (imo) that molly just wanted dutch’s attention and she was blinded by love

💋 i personally hold a grudge too but she seemed remorseful that she did it because she had to

💋 abigail feels guilty but they’re still under the pretence that she ratted on them

💋 charles says he feels bad even though he didn’t know her well

💋 strauss, though i think he probably did not gaf he actually includes molly in him saying the camps falling apart

💋 marybeth just feels guilty about her, saying that she doesn’t believe it, she probably said that in the way of she couldn’t believe that mollys dead but i’d like to think she also didn’t think that molly did it

💋 swanson says she’ll be in his prayers

💋though i’d like to add dutch’s reaction to yknow the supposed lover of him saying that he shoulda cut her off ages ago

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋i feel like people forget that milton tells arthur they couldn’t get anything out of molly , if you know micah is the rat you have to know molly isn’t

💋 off topic but i want to say i also saw someone say mary (linton) was one of the rats, i feel like people forget that mary knew arthur was never going to change for her, her missions never affects the plot, she’s always going to send the infamous letter at the start or beaver hollow, she never changed the ending you can not help her and never talk to her again and there’s still the same ending it’s all micah

@lovearthur since you got tagged in the last one 🫶🏼

[barschter000]

barok and 2, 9, and 25 for the character ask game :3

Yippie, I get to yap! Thank you :D!!

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

I love how self-sacrificial Barok is. It's tragic and terrible and I can't stop thinking about it because it says so much about how he sees himself. A vessel for "justice", for his brother, a tool protecting people who despise him and a scapegoat unworthy of justice for himself. He sees himself as so empty and devoid of value but is actually full of concern and care for others who won't (the people of London) or cannot (Klint) return his sentiment. He is so horrible to himself and he drives me so insane. Händel's He was despised is now playing in my head.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Ough, tough question... The problem is that 1) I have this weird thing where I am ashamed to face my favorite characters after I've become obsessed with them (one of the reasons why I haven't replayed TGAA yet and why I didn't replay Danganronpa for instance in my DR phase), so unless Barok was Just Some Guy at my uni and not Barok van Zieks from hit game The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles In Real Life, I would not be able to, and 2) I am not the greatest fan of People in My House... I already struggle sometimes with sharing the kitchen with the other students who live on my floor in my dorm, so I don't think I could share a whole apartment with someone whom I'm not very close to. But that's not exclusive to Barok. Ideally, if I had to be roommates with him, we'd barely talk to other and leave each other alone but still had a sort of mutual understanding where we'd go, "Hey man, I'm going to the opera, wanna come along?" "Oh sure," and nothing else.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

I am very sorry to disappoint but I literally do not remember lmao. I played the game right after release in July 2021 during a time where Covid among other things had really fucked me up and I cannot remember much of that year in general. I didn't like him at first but I think (and hope) that's everyone's first impression of Barok because he does suck and is supposed to suck at the start. I got immediately attached to him after 2-3 though because I very easily fall for the "bad guy with a heart of gold" kinda trope. I needed some time to fully Get him consistently but I think now I have a pretty complete picture of him in my head (<- read: I have made up incredibly unnecessary details about him, my picture is more than complete.)

[starshower1215]

Fanfic Writer Interview

Thanks for tagging me, @quillsandblades and @storiesofaot. An opportunity to ramble about stuff I wrote? Of course I'm down. Let's see.

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only six. Five are SNK, one is Blitzstone from Magnus Chase.

What is your total AO3 word count?

Hah. I'm pretty new to fanfic writing, so my word count's a joke: 31,456 words. It's growing, though.

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

Well, of my six stories, lol, here they are in order from highest to lowest.

No. 1: Journey Through the Middle Ages

An adventure in which Blitzen takes Hearthstone to the renaissance fair to feed his secretly romantic heart. Blitzen's a demigod, though, so trouble rising is no surprise.

No. 2: The Mystery of the Pencil Bun

A story on Levi being infatuated by Hange, narrated by Mike. The length is inspired by Levi's height.

No. 3: All That I Want

This one is Levihan, too. It delves into Hange's sense of exhaustion after becoming commander during a late night lying on the shore, and explores the possibility of finding rest, but not the way it's generally viewed. It's pretty personal and maybe one of my favorites.

No. 4: Circles Around the Sun

I love this one so, so much. This is my child. It's Levihan in an alternate universe, where seven-year-old Hange meets Levi, who escaped from the Underground at the early age of ten and got himself a job at the flower field of the Zoë household. The thing that Hange doesn't know, though, is that he's in a race against time to gather the money needed to pay for citizenship above ground, before he's found out by the MP.

It is heavy on angst (my drug) and heartbreak, and it's also got scenes where they're both just being kids, which is all very cute and sweet. But at its core, it is angsty and I giggle like a maniac when I'm writing it. All my friends have heard me yapping about it, they all know the plotline, they've heard it at least twice each, so. I'm really pouring my love into it.

No. 5: Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Levihan again, based on this art by @areyoufreeafterclass (hi, sorry for tagging you, I'm crediting). My first SNK fic, but I'm not so sentimental about it, it wasn't quite my style. It's a story revolving, again, around Hange's disposition following their promotion to commander, and explores Levi's feelings about it, too. There are things related to "Love Story" by Taylor Swift and "Romeo and Juliet" by Shakespeare.

Tags, if you'd like to join: @satsuki92, @sunflowersunite, @alexdswfan

[thecoolerliauditore]

third time getting this ask deleted, i don't think the universe wants my thoughts on fem grian out there :(

i don't even actually have any problem with this interpretation. it's just both very interesting and silly to me. there is a non-insignificant amount of fanwork that emphasizes grian as having a small, thin waist and general petite frame. nothing wrong with that, but deeply amusing as someone who generally doesn't see the c!lifers' human builds as significantly different from their irl counterparts. starting to suspect people don't share my love for middle-aged guys who look like middle-aged guys... maybe i watch too much british comedy.

ultimately i do agree that it's due to grian being more uke-viable than the other two in mumscarian. which is interesting, because you could argue that mumbo shares a lot of the same "effeminate" traits (higher-pitched voice, not a hulking brute force, sneaky and conniving, young, skinny?) which just proves the power of the Guy with Suit and Moustache branding. exceptions to this are when mumbo gets to have a nice long dress, but i still think the way grian gets feminized is different to that.

something else i find interesting is that grian's deception and manipulation (and power?) is sometimes the sole reason for his feminization getting pushed from generic twink to femboy/literal woman. which is something that i don't think i can do justice pontificating about. i mean this less in a "that's kind of misogynistic way" (well, sort of) and more like, ok what kind of psychosexual game of telephone is happening here. martyn or scott don't really get this treatment, despite (imo) both being valid contenders for evil womanification.

does any of this matter? absolutely not. men shipped in yaoi pairs will get interestingly gendered one way or another. it just so happens that a very specific domino effect lead to grian getting hit with the twinkification beam at a disproportional rate to the others. the only factor that is unique to grian in getting twinkified and feminized is the 3px skin. all others are shared (gremlin-ness, shortness, voice, cuteness, youth, being evil?, sneaky, manipulative) ergo it really is the 3px skin difference. thank you for your time.

also sorry if it seemed like i was assuming you were a grian fan, i legitimately wasn't lol i just sent it to you because of aforementioned gender mentions and you general Goodness in talking about fandom meta.

last thing i'll say is i mournfully agree with the menswear section. i do wish that we could combat more against the "men's fashion/design is boring" sentiment in general fandom. character involving menswear is such an untapped treasure trove that it's baffling to me. alas.

oh please don't worry I was just trying to clarify I wasn't knowledgeable on grian, I love discussions like this! I just didn't want to like. yap a whole bunch and then hit you with the "ok so I don't actually watch Grian all that much" (like I genuinely had completely forgotten about Mother Spore)

"psychosexual game of telephone" is very real and I think I'm going to adopt that into my vocabulary from now on. Scott's name being here is interesting because I actively try not to bring him up in every discussion nowadays, but I do think he is also feminized in fanon but in a way very different to Grian.

My Scott design at least I think you could make that argument for since I based alot of him off of my favourite pretty boys/bishounen, with the eyelashes visible and whatnot, but I tried to at least make it somewhat clear that he is a Man. He even kind of got hit with the detwinkification ray the more I drew him.

And idk fanon Scott is like. It's own brand of fascinating to me because I used to see a lot of people claim he was a "fem gay man" and I was like???????? is he???????????? I suppose his masculinity is a very queer brand of masculinity but it still very much reads as masculinity to me. Very "cis gay man" as he says himself. When I see the words "fem gay man" I am not imagining Scott Smajor, that much is for sure.

There's also just not that many Scott artists relative to the rest of the characters but what art I do see of him tends to lean either anime twink. Weight and body type is also a factor here I think is worth exploring but aughhhh shutting up about Scott. Point is I do think he gets his fair share of feminization but it's complicated with him cus you have to factor in him being The Gay One (and the associations people have with that) and his whole persona being very Cute 🌺

But yes yes anyway I do think Mumbo's moustache does him wonders, as does the CC's reputation for being a giant.

And while none of this Really matters I also don't think any of our lives Really matter and I think these trends are interesting so. We may as well have fun studying them. It's times like these where I wish I could have the brazen-ness to just yoink people's art and put them next to their takes about the character to really, really get in there but I'd feel rude 😔

FTR re the whole nothing wrong with it thing I agree! And you can look at this silly thing I drew for April Fools for my opinion on fanon designs and body types. I am a massive hypocrite in a lot of ways and I think sometimes you do just gotta break down the biases that make you view a certain set of traits a certain way and go. Wow okay that's interesting. and just kinda leave.

My Pearl design for example has some misogynistic implications -- hell, all of my designs for the women lifers are on the shorter side. My Pearl is shorter than my Bdubs and Joel who have entire gags surrounding them about being short! CC Pearl is very much not cute moe anime girl, I turned her character into cute moe anime girl. And I'd do it any day. Minus one point for me in the feminism and body positivity categories 😔 and I'd do it again.

It's whatever man. Humans have biases built on millions of years of history and people also have their own individual beliefs and preferences influenced by that history. and I think seeing that show through people's minecraft youtuber designs like little bits and pieces of worldviews is REALLY COOL. and while I'm also a biased human being who has my tastes I genuinely do think this is really fascinating.

Ok sorry this really got away from me can you tell I like this topic lmao. I just think it's really cool when you get unlimited perspectives on a certain set of traits applied onto a very interpretable design like a minecraft skin

Fist bump on the menswear btw. Makes me wanna draw that self-indulgent idea I had awhile back where I just use the lifers as my fashion dolls. Idk I just think Etho would kill in some Japanese techwear