#AND ANOTHER THING--*gets dragged away by blorbos*

[ooffmlsorry]

Bringing Law Home for a Family Holiday

Readers' Note: Reader has a large and generally good but overbearing family. Only happy things in this, little to no angst!

A/N: Every holiday I get struck with the desire to write my latest blorbo coming home with their s/o for the holidays. I don't have time to crack out 10-15k words so this is probs gonna be more stream of consciousness but it'll get the point across.

I've been imagining how tense the travel to Law's s/o's house is because God forbid y'all be late because Law wants to make a good impression no matter how many times you explain it's a very loose 4 p.m. arrival time.

You've been dating for long enough that you think it's reasonable for him to meet your family (that was enough to make Law's heart flutter and then start hammering...could it be you're just as serious about him as he is about you?)

"My aunt showed up at noon and my cousin's probably not going to be here until after dark, really it's fine!" You'd insist. "Besides, the people that show up on time are the ones that end up having to go back out because someone forgot something!"

And of course Law would say "that's fine." With a such a stubborn and determined tone. Being on time or a few minutes early is better than being late! Suddenly your man is a rule follower! 🤭Suddenly you can picture Law as he was a kid studious and button-ed up in his little doctor's uniform. It's almost kind of cute if he wasn't so nervous.

The closest thing to family Law has is Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. Not since the Donquixote family has Law had anything to do with that word and he's so nervous he feels sick. For Law this translate to acting like he has the world's biggest cactus shoved up his ass, and you know that so you try not to take his coolness personally.

Holding his hand helps a little though. You ignore how shaky and sweaty it is.

He's feeling a lot of big feelings right now, poor guy.

He insisted on you giving him a "family tree" when he realized how big your family is and a list of things not to accidentally mention or do. He's been studying it for days, re-reading it over and over obsessively.

The fact that he's a pirate is fine, which takes a lot of pressure off. You come from a family full of pirates, so you swear Law will fit right in. Although you warn him your grandfather's probably going to start reminiscing about how he knew Gol D. Roger as a kid (which no one knows if that's actually true) and ranting about the young pirates these days.

You'd walk up to your family home high on a hill over looking the sea. From several yards away you can already hear music. You realize as you get closer it's more like you're dragging Law more than he's walking with you.

It's subconscious lol. I promise you he's not doing it on purpose. As soon as you notice it he speaks, "I'm fine."

Poor Traffy is so pale!

His tone dares you to question him, almost as if to actually say "I'm fine, if I wasn't I wouldn't be here Y/N. Please trust me to be honest with you about how I'm feeling." But that's a lot of words for someone who's mouth is cotton dry. He's trying his best, so you give him a quick kiss on the cheek for courage and walk up to the house together.

The first thing your family comments on when you open the door is how early you are despite the fact that it's three minutes to 4:00.

"We weren't expecting Y/N for another hour!" Your aunt winks at Law and nudges him, no introduction, no nothing, and says "you must really be something special if you can get them here to early!"

Despite Law's best efforts, having one of your family members immediately point out his supposed specialness to you makes blush and stutter.

It doesn't matter how awkward his no response of blinking at your aunt was because she's already gone flitting around with an arm full of what your family calls "the good plates."

You pull Law down to whisper in his ear, "told you we'd be early," you giggle.

It's not the nicest house, but it is big, and warm, and festive. Just standing in the doorway taking it in Law's struck with the remembrance of home. He tries to only focus on the present, not Swallow Island, Spider Miles, or even Flevance, your home is good..for today. But tomorrow he'll back at his home: the Polar Tang.

You introduce him to what little family is already there. Your heart squeezes at the way Law awkwardly waves at the baby your cousin's bouncing on his lap and the surprise that quickly turns into a soft smile that spreads across his lips when the baby coos back.

He meets your grandpa, who appraises him very officially. You swear to God Law's holding his breath as the stout man with a peg leg circles him with his arms behind his back. "Trafalgar Law, hmm..." he says very seriously. "You know back in my day pirates didn't all these tattoos to prove they were tough."

"I heard your day was quite a long time ago," Law says almost automatically. In for a penny, in for a pound, he doubles down, adding "sir" at the end.

That would be your boyfriend hehe. Too sharp for his own good.

Of course that's what your grandfather likes. He shakes Law's hand and pulls him into a crushing hug. Your grandpa promises later he's got words for him (ie. the shovel talk). It's a little disturbing how comfortable Law feels knowing he'll be threatened with an unspeakably awful death later. That's the most familiar thing that has happened all day. lol

But he knows the person he needs to impart the best impression on is your grandmother. You don't think you've ever seen Law so perfectly polite in your life....which makes your grandmother howl with laughter! "My ass whooping days are over, boy! Relax!" Her frail hands clutch her stomach as she laughs. She wipes a tear from her eyes, "I thought you said he was a pirate?!" She pats Law on the cheek like he's a sweet little boy (because at her old age 26 is a little boy) and gives it a squeeze. And because it's your grandma, he lets her.

You have to hide your laughter behind your hand.

"He's a sweet boy, Y/N," she says to you. "And so handsome! Where were all the good-looking men like him when I was at sea?"

"I killed 'em all!" Your grandpa yells across the house.

And just like that, Law's in your grandmother's good graces. Of course you knew he would be.

True to your word earlier, you get sent in to town to pick up a short list of last minute things. It's a nice moment to breathe. As soon as you're far enough from the house you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply.

"I'm so happy they like you," you say quietly once you come up for air. You don't tease him about how strange it is to see him hoping for someone's approval like you would in most circumstances. Instead you feel yourself melt, "I knew they would, but now you believe me?"

"They like me for now," he says because god forbid he go easy on himself.

"You're not as hard to love as you think you are, Law." You press another kiss to his lips.

(A/N: ooh chile lemme tell you, for saying that right there that man is going to romantically rail you within an inch of your life when y'all get back to the ship. That is the only way I can convey to you how much you saying that means to him. He's speechless.)

By time y'all get back there are a lot more people here and it's a lot louder. Your brother asks Law about a rash on elbow (at the dinner table no less, but hey these are pirates!) and he actually gives him advice.

Law meets your little cousins, who ask him a million questions including but not limited to:

"Why do you wears that funny looking hat?"

"Are you actually a surgeon?"

"Does getting a tattoo hurt?"

"Can you give me a tattoo?"

"How many Marines have you killed?"

"Are the Straw Hat Pirates really that strong?"

"Do you really have a polar bear on your ship?"

"Are you and Y/N ever gonna have a baby?"

To which Law responds:

"Who said it was funny looking?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't feel pain." you thought this man would take their questions seriously?

"Surgeons aren't allowed to do that. My hands will fall off if I do."

"Definitely more than you."

"As strong as they are stupid."

"Yeah, he's our navigator."

".........I think I heard someone calling you from the kitchen."

Your little cousins think "he's weird funny." He does "surgery" on the dolls your cousins offer up to him and thoroughly enjoy the weird monstrosities he creates. And Your moody teenage nephew deems Law "cool."

Your mom insists Law's too skinny for his own good and piles more food on his plate. "If you're going to survive out there you need some meat on your bones! I wanna see you here next year, Trafalgar."

Law almost chokes. Your mom already wants him back next year. He was expecting to have to get her approval somehow too, but she's accepted him immediately. "All I needed to know is if you make my little Y/N happy!" Your mom explains while hugging you, "And look how happy they are!"

And your old man, a pirate captain in his own right, several beers deep, slings his arm over Law's shoulder. "You're the one that's got that big ol' bounty, huh?" Before Law can fully answer, he continues on drunkenly, "that means you probably looted enough to cover your own wedding, right? Cause I'm sure's shit not." God bless Law for taking it with a grain of salt and taking him over to a couch. "That means you can marry 'em if ya want, as'long as I don' havta pay none. But if you break their heart I'll turn ya in myself...goddamn Marines...making me a traitor..." he says until his words turn into drunk muttering.

"That's your blessing in case you were wondering," your mom sighs. "I know you didn't ask but that was it. That man is fine with anything as long as he doesn't have to pay for it."

"You get my blessing because you helped clean up!" Your grandma pipes in. "Nothing more valuable than a man that knows how clean up after himself!"

I don't know how many times Law is rendered speechless for a moment. Was it that easy or was your family truly that accepting? In a handful of hours he's been completely welcomed and they want him to come back next year, to marry you? It's dizzying, but in a...hopeful way? Because...he wants it to happen too...if he's lucky enough to come back next year as your husband.

At the end of the night, you and Law are sent on your way with tons of food to bring back to Heart Pirates, and whether he likes it or not your mom and your grandma each press a kiss to Law's cheek.

You walk back down the hill together.

"It was good to see them again," you say. "Was that too much?"

"No," Law says. "I'm happy."

A/N: so yeah, I just had that bumbling around in my head today. I hope it was fluffy enough for ya! 😘

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Wassup y'all, I'm back from lowkey radio silence with another hot take.

I've been trying to figure out lately why my multishipper ass dislikes a lot of ships within the fandom- more specifically a lot of greaser/soc pairings, and I realised at the core of it it's because there is no conceivable universe where they work without completely changing canon or the personalities of the characters. or at the very least their loyalties and motivations. Narratively, the novel is very clear about this, it even throws Marbit in our faces to prove it, showing (greaser) Two-bit his absolute dream girl who is beautiful and fun and likes him too , and yet is forever unattainable because she's a soc.

"Oh but Lovely, you ship Marbit! And you've written Parry! Obviously you're just hating on our ships."

No, I'm not. I very specifically DON'T hate on any ship, because that makes fandom less fun and more toxic and that is the LAST thing I want to do and because everyone deserves to have their blorbos and their ships that make them happy, I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum. And I realise my claiming I can't see greaser/soc pairings and using Marbit as an example of why while also actively shipping them looks very hypocritical. That said, I ship both Marbit and Parry in a very specific way, that would work canon compliantly, or at the absolute minimum still within canon verse without changing the tensions or the history between the east side and the west wide, or the characters as people.

Do I think Marbit could work in canon (in a post canon verse)? Absolutely I do- but not with Marcia staying a soc, or (more unlikely) Two-bit staying a greaser. If it's going to work- and I think it will because they are each others person, in any universe, whether it works or not- then Marcia either needs to fully acccept that the man she's in love with is a greaser and will always be a greaser, he is from the east side, and he has nothing set up in terms of a future, and no family money to keep him safe and sheltered. She needs to accept it, and accept Two-bit in the process, and embrace a life where she is ok with it being her future, particularly if she and Two-bit ever want to date in the open, and definitely if they ever want to get married. If Marcia wants Two-bit she needs to be prepared for the judgment she will face from her peers for marrying a man so far 'beneath' her, has to be prepared for potentially being disowned/cut off by her parents, needs to be okay with the realities of east side life becoming her reality. In a slightly different reality, Two-bit needs to be prepared for marrying Marcia meaning he needs to clean up his act, needs to realise it will entail being forever looked down on by her family and friends (if they stay in contact), be prepared for Marcia's parents to pull some strings and get him a decent job, not a soc level one but one available to the upper middle class and definitely not poor kids. If Two wants Marcia he needs to recognise that it will mean no more petty thieving and no more booze and being viewed as a class traitor by the majority of his neighbourhood. In either version he has to be ready to deal with the people who will tell him he's ruining Marcia' life, that he dragged her away from her life and her potential, will perhaps have to grapple with those feelings even if they come from no one but himself.

But I still could see them working in canon, and working as themselves, but their relationship would always be affected by soc and greaser dynamics and if they work out, one of them will forever be viewed as a class traitor, and it will absolutely not be smooth sailing no matter how much they love each other.

Parry is a little bit different, but it's still a greaser/soc ship I could see fitting in canon, or in universe without egregiously changing the characters or class tensions, and a big part of why is because it's a clandestine relationship that is doomed from the start, and is doomed in every universe. It's a first love, a secret gay relationship between teenage hypermasculine football players in the 60s. Here, class tensions probably caused tension in the relaionship, but outside pressures would be less because Darry was well liked by even the rich kids and known to be going places, and also because the relationship itself never saw the light of day. The reason I ship Parry but only when they're doomed is because it very obviously could happen: Darry could kiss Paul in secret and still be a greaser loyal to this neighbourhood, and Paul could snog Darry and still be an upstanding upper class golden boy without looking like he's punching down, because no one knew they were dating in the first place. They could have truly loved each other when they were together and in canon it means nothing except the fact that their fight was a bit more personal than any other at the rumble, because neither of them ever intended for their relationship to be anything but a secret. They knew it would never be real in the sense they could have a life together, so it fits in canon because they characters were only ever going to be themselves, and as themselves their social classes make it so they are fundamentally incompatible, even if homophobia wasn't a barrier that it so obviously would have been. Darry and Paul work as a plausible couple because they never plausibly would have ever made a go of a serious relationship, and they both know it.

"Oh but Lovely," you say "by that logic any greaser/soc gay ship works in canon verse or canon adjacent verse. You should be able to see/ship any of them." To which I say no, not necessarily. First of all, not every queer person throughout history was okay with having a secret relationship- quiet ones sure, but gay people had 'roommates' in the sixties, and i think textually there is a lot of evidence to support that the majority of the Outsiders characters, were they queer, would not be particularly interested in being anyone's dirty little secret. And even if that weren't the case, and they'd be fine with a secret relationship, the fact remains that the greasers and the socs don't like each other. In fact, they canonically despise each other to the point where violence between the groups is commonplace. Darry was in a very unique position as captain of the football team and boy of the year, to form a connection with Paul that would be able to blossom into romance. He had a level of comfort and familiarity with the socs that the vast majority of the greasers don't have, and would never attempt to or even want to attain. The average greaser sees the socs as a danger and the reason they always get the short end of the stcik, and the average soc sees the greasers as ruffians and thugs, dirt under their shoes that belongs there. Yes, the book makes the point that all people are just people, but from what we see textually the chances of a greaser and a soc- particularly of the same gender- getting close enough to form a romantic attachment is slim to none unless both sides got really cool with a bunch of stuff really quickly after the rumble.

ANWAY if anyone is still here thank you for listening to my rambly unedited thoughts from 2am, these are my reasons for not shipping the majority of greaser/soc pairs, I hope they make sense

[random-doctor-on-the-internet]

Hello earthlings, your favourite aliens back! Well, not favourite, I probably don't even make it to the top fifty, but let a guy have dreams.

I am currently drowned in exams and two days late on my art commissions schedule, but I've just eaten coffee beans thinking it was chocolate (don't do that, kids) and decided that it's time for a new BSfLM.

@weirdly-specific-but-ok , tagging you because I haven't bothered you in a while. Read this coffee induced masterpiece and cry.

global cheering

So, since @randomvoices and @zonzolik asked about the cults, I'll talk about...well, the cults. And now, mortals, IT'S SHOWTIME. Neil Gaiman have your mercy, for the worst is yet to come.

global slightly worried cheering

Okay, buckle your seatbelts, here's the story of how I almost got dragged into a cult. Welcome to hell.

Alrighty-almighty, it all starts, as it will end, in some little russian town. You know, these little towns that seem to only exist to say things like "this famous guy was born there", "that famous guy tried to sleep there for a night but was met with a lot of suspicion", "that one blorbo on the net got dragged into a cult there", etc. You see what I'm talking about.

"But, Ash, why were you in this town?", you ask.

The truth is, I don't know. We were looking for a place to sleep, then God decided that my life will be a crossover between Florida News and those traumatic fairy tales from your childhood that you remember all your life, and threw me there. Hi!

So, we arrive there, it's late, almost everyone is sleeping, and we need to stay unnoticed for runaway reasons. The villagers, however, are not very eager to welcome two black haired strangers carrying an impressive amount of close combat weapons. After a bit of useless bargaining, we realised that it's time to pack our bags and hitch the road.

So, we get a loaf of bread for dinner and go away, trying to look very offended. Historians don't say if it was effective. We're almost gone when we see a guy who yells us that there's a small community of monks in the woods who usually welcome well minded strangers.

Sleep in a monastery is better than no sleep at all, we decide, and go in the woods. We arrive, the monks are nice even if not very monkish, they give us some mushroom stew and send us to sleep.

I don't know what they put in the stew, but we both sleep for more than three days. When we wake up, they're all nice, all seem very worried that we haven't woken up earlier. We apologize for abusing their hospitality and ask if we could do something to make up for it. We may be punk, but we have a heart. They happily agree and we spend an unknown amount of days alternating between enormous amounts of sleep and chopping wood, collecting flowers, brewing beer, and other monastery stuff.

We start thinking about leaving, but every time we mention it, they ask us if we could help with something else, and make clear that they won't tell us where they put our travel bags (with the guns inside.). Now that we live with them, we can see that they don't look like monks at all. Neither of us knows a lot about Christianity, but I'm pretty sure monks aren't supposed to wear flower crowns, sleep together, and sing songs about how Nature is a massive slay. They're hippies, we think, nice ones, and keep chopping wood.

They seem pretty excited about the full moon. Is God supposed to look at us through the moon's eye? Is God the moon? Were they secretly werewolves? Who knows. But they were acting very strange when we mentioned it. Told us that we need to see the full moon ceremony, that it will change our lives.

We help them decorate the woods, and put a small monolith around which it's going to take place. They ask Beez to pick a goat, because they're going to do a thing in our honour. Goat meat stew? Why not. Another 2 day-long nap later, it's the full moon. They give us white robes. Beez insists to keep all the things they haven't put away under them. The black-white combo doesn't look good, but it works.

We reunite in the clearing. As soon as the moon appears, they start singing. I don't know that song but it sounds metal. I'm joining them, stammering some lyrics about burning Christians. It fortunately goes unnoticed.

And then, the goat arrives. It's very clear that there won't be any stew. Beez looks at me. I look at Beez. And we run like our lives are in danger, which is probably true. Without the robes, we're almost invisible in the night. And we mindlessly run for dear life, two days of running almost without stopping. I don't know if they sent people after us, but they didn't catch us.

So, yeah, here's how we survived a moonlight cult, and people from said cult obtained two brand new backpacks, a dozen guns, perfectly done passports (it was awful to redo these without being found) and half a loaf of bread. Hope they remember us.

Remember, children, always trust suspicious strangers. Fun adventures might happen.

[lets-try-some-writing]

i wish more continuities played with the horror of being revived after your (presumably) grisly demise. It must be real traumatizing right?? Like, it's gotta be! It could really help with characterizing/building a particular character too (cough optimus cough).

You my dear requester have come to exactly the right writer for this request. I have a fic based on this general premise called A Mere Shadow if you are interested. However, I will never turn down the chance to hurt my blorbo even more.

I may have gone a bit nuts with this concept so hold on-

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

A Shadow of Death

Optimus Prime has been faced with death many times. Even as Orion Pax he did not fear it. Death was a fact of life, one he came to accept in his youth. The Matrix only further eliminated that intrinsic desire to flee the possibility of being killed. To a certain extent, it was a blessing as it kept him from faltering at crucial moments, even if he was met with pain for his determination.

Blaster shots a little too close to his spark chamber for comfort, stab wounds deep enough to be concerning, plague of the deadly variety, and more close calls than he dared to count... they were all nothing compared to the true call and agony of death. The fire that rained down on the base that fateful cycle was torture for Optimus. When Smokescreen found him, he very nearly begged Primus to let him die. Only once he was dragged away did he have time to think and to rationalize. Living in that state was a torment, but at the time, he knew it was to end. He made his peace with death long ago. He did not fear its embrace.

It was painful, but it was meant to end. He felt his spark abandon his frame, he sensed his mortality fading as he gave up his life in the line of duty. He was not content, but he was ready to pass and leave the burden behind. It had been so long, and finally, death welcomed him into its patient arms. Its chill wrapped around him, digging into the core of his being. It ached, but it was not unpleasant, especially as he began to see the fallen welcoming him, beckoning him to come home. His attachments faded and for the first time since he was a youngling, he was at peace. He did not expect to be drawn back sharply by a power he instinctively knew belonged to another Prime. He did not know what to think when he woke in his new frame, one built stronger, faster, and more capable. However he knew it was wrong, or rather his frame was not the only thing about him to change.

There was not time to think or time to consider. All he could do was fight and spend the next several cycles focused on getting his team settled. They needed to see he was strong, and so he kept up the façade as weeks passed and a shadow of death hung over him. He could not tell them, for what would he say? How was he supposed to explain the oddities that hung around him at all hours, making him suffer in silence while unable to speak. Something didn't let him, almost as if there were rules that forbade him to reveal that which weighed on him to those who could not sense his discomfort as he could.

It began the first time he returned to their new base after a scouting mission. He had been chilled ever since he was reforged and thought it perhaps due to his spark adjusting to the new frame or vice versa. He spent hours flying and moving, working his engine and his thrusters to the point of his plating being hot to the touch. Despite that... he was cold, not in painful manner, but merely... uncomfortable. It was enough to keep his senses sharp and yet it was unnatural. He went to Ratchet to try and have his frame examined, but all the doctor could tell him was that it must have been a quirk of his reforging. His systems were operating fine and his fans were regulating his temperature even better than before. There was no reason for him to feel chilled unless it was a mental issue. At that Ratchet attempted to have him sit down for a mental exam, but Optimus waved it off as his frame still taking time to settle.

Optimus did not bring up the topic again, not even when he stood beside burning buildings and still felt that coldness seeping into his protoform. He could feel digits caressing his plating, yet when he tried to check his sensors, there was nothing there. The cold haunted him, and in the end, he wrote it off as a punishment of eluding death one too many times.

The cold was bearable, but he hated recharge with a passion. Up until his reforging, recharge was one of the rare blessed moment of rest he was allowed. But now? He dreaded every instance where his frame demanded time to recover. He tried to drag it out for as long as he could with additives and all sorts of substitutes for rest, including plugging his processors into the database to defrag while he was still up and active. But in the end, the need eventually came, or the team would grow suspicious and he would be forced to retreat to his berth all the same.

Laying down for recharge was always comforting. It was familiar and allowed age old routine to take over, allowing him to vent deeply and simply feel for a while. But that is when the trouble always started. Optimus could never stop himself from feeling the pull of recharge. Once it set in, he couldn't move. His frame froze up and despite him being quite active mentally, his frame eased and rested, falling into recharge long before he did. Sometimes his optics were unshuttered, other times they weren't when the paralysis set in. Whatever the case, it always felt like he was back in that cave, bleeding out and in agony. It was terrifying to be stuck in that paralysis before recharge as nearly every time there was a haunting moment when his vents failed to work and his spark ceased in its blaze for but a nanoklik. But Primus, that one nanoklik always felt like an eternity where his frame almost seemed uncertain if it was alive or dead.

At the end of that long nanoklik he could feel digits running along his frame and he could see things in the corner of his vision regardless of whether or not his optics were functioning. Whispers that he could not comprehend echoed in his audials as his frame began to ache, desperate for ventilation and for energon to continue flowing. Then just as it started to grow unbearable, almost as if he were about to die, then his frame would return to its normal functioning and the paralysis would fade. For the first few deca-cycles after his restoration, Optimus threw himself to his pedes after such incidents and took up the night watch, unwilling to recharge after the threat of death hung over him.

He almost went to Ratchet, he almost burdened his oldest friend with his fears. So many cycles he spent nearly half in recharge as he fought against the need for rest, terrified of that looming death that never came. He did not fear death, but its agony was something he grew to be wary of. It was nearly enough to force him to act and plead with his team for aid. However in the end... he abstained, even though it pained him more when the dreams began.

Optimus had always dreamed, even as Orion. It was part of his nature, and gaining the Matrix only gave his dreams more vividness and viability. And yet... after being reforged, he no longer dreamed at all, at least not as he used to. When he fell into recharge, he found himself in a void with no light, no sound, and nothing to help him determine if he was up, down, or even within his own frame. He could never see his servos, nor could he sense himself moving if he willed himself to. He was simply left in a world of darkness for hours, unable to feel anything except the chill that plagued him during his waking cycles. That alone was nerve wracking but manageable due to the strange sense of peace he found within that void. Sometime he could swear he saw motes of light dash past him, slipping through that void and vanishing before he had time to observe them. He made it habit to search out those motes of light while within the void that came for him during recharge. It kept him occupied and made the chill less startling.

He learned to recharge through it all, but never for long. The lack of rest made itself known throughout his waking hours as he wandered and did his work. The chill kept him awake, but he could not stop himself from feeling the pull of that cold void whenever his focus slipped. It was almost as though it was calling him, trying to reclaim him after he escaped its grasp. Sometimes when he was particularly unfocused, he would find himself standing under the stars, watching and observing, unable to move as his mind seemed to leave the confines of his frame. In those instances he could sense things, he could see those same motes of light dashing around him, and with time, he came to understand what they were.

Life, sparks, souls.

It took time, but he came to understand. By the time Megatron was gunning to rebuild the Omega Lock and Ratchet left to join that effort, Optimus found himself... colder. He had never feared death, it was a part of life he didn't care to know but accepted all the same. Now though? Now he understood it. The chill forever sunk into his frame, and he noted that what once was a mere mental issue became reality. He was cold to the touch, even after battle. Things grew to be more distant, or rather less important as the cycles passed him by. The void that he walked in was trying to reclaim him. He could sense it in the way his spark flared and grew dimmer. The void wanted him back, and every day he was drawn closer to it.

What frightened him after his reforging grew to be commonplace. He didn't fear it anymore. The void that came in dreams came to be a second home of sorts, one he grew more adept at seeing the sparks within. It seemed wrong for him to be at peace with the way his mind shifted and how he no longer was terrified of those brief moments where his frame threatened to fail. It simply did not bother him when he saw the void in the corners of his vision or when chilled digits touched him. It became familiar, and with that familiarity, the living realm grew more distant.

He did not emote often, at least not as the others did. Now he did not express himself at all. There was no need. The world was changed for him. The team worried but chalked it up to Ratchet being gone. They were partially correct. Without that mortal tie, the cold came and seeped deeper, making it easier to slip and see the cracks, the thinner places between reality where sparks darted, returning to their maker after their lives ended. It fascinated him, even though it often had him staring into what the others considered empty space when he was supposed to be acting.

He was changing, and what fully solidified that for him was when he began to feel the chill of death closing in around others. He first noted it around Vehicons, mainly those who had brushes with death or were unfortunately killed in combat. There was little he could do for them, as usually by the time he noted the chill, it had already wrapped around the Vehicon in question, dooming them to their fate. He only acted when he felt it around Arcee before she tried to enter a groundbridge. It was harder to feel, but he still stopped her. When questioned, he found he could not speak and explain, so he opted for vague wording, hoping it would help her to see and understand.

Arcee: Optimus, what was that for?

Optimus: You cannot go there. The chill follows you.

Arcee: Sir? What does that mean.

Optimus: Danger Arcee. A threat I cannot save you from.

Arcee: I don't understand-

Optimus: You do not need to. I sense the chill, I see the looming cloud. Do not go. You shall not return if you do.

Harder to focus, harder to think. Whenever he was not working, Optimus watched the sparks come and go, observing with a strange distant affection he could not place. All the while the chill grew deeper, closer to his spark, and his frame became weary despite its power. He was changing...

And the void wanted him back.

[cositapreciosa]

You & Me

Gilbert 'Gilly' Lopez x gn!reader, (murder/dead body, nothing graphic tho, ptsd? hardships and hard time, vibes are Gilly's veteran's storyline in the show) the usual for the show, 2307 words

a/n : as DJ Khaled once said : another one. You & Me is a Yelawolf song that slaps so

A follow up of this one can be read part 1.2 here and part 2 here !

Tagging the people I won't stop bothering about this new blorbo obsession @narcolini @drabbles-mc

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx (do I have to add this for Mayans too or? Plz don't kiss people who shot people? You get it.)

You hadn’t seen him in months, not before you had seen him again at Jacob's birthday party at least, it had been weeks since then. You knew he wouldn’t be mad that you came knocking, found his address the only way you knew how, like the good old days. You were always closest to him, throughout it all, recruits, being shipped out, Mosul, coming back in pieces after everything. You had tried to stay close with them at the beginning, fix the pieces of the puzzle, go to those forced mental-health meetings the army thought were necessary, birthdays or nights out on the town. Even so, it always felt like too much. Too much noise, too many people, too many questions about everything that kept you awake at night. Too many pieces that couldn’t be put back like the others could. You just couldn’t see them as much after that, after you had realized they reminded you every day about what was wrong with you, what you couldn’t fix. You had missed him, of course, oh so much, but every time you stayed too long it felt like you were dragging them all down with you.

You knock on the door, knuckles on the paint. You know it is probably a bad thing, coming unannounced in the middle of the night, but you can’t seem to care. Before you could realize it, you had driven your car to his street, slowing down to read the numbers on the door, finally stopping in front of it. It’s a quaint building, with a nice white door, windows on each side. It didn’t look how you had imagined it and you had, so many times, wished to leave whatever shit show you had gotten yourself into this time. Run back to him. You don’t understand how you managed to escape one hell, only to get yourself trapped in another so quickly. So many hours spent training, fighting for your life, only to fall for a goddamn-

He opens the door, chain pulling between the frames. The porch is dark, barely lit, but you can see the surprise on his face, the confusion as your name falls from his lips. Guilt builds in your chest, panic clawing at your throat.

‘’ Hey, Gil. ‘’

It’s all you can manage, a small smile tugging at your lips, a peace offering. You know you don’t have to explain, that he understands, clearly you are not showing up this late for a beer and a chat. He moves behind the opened door, probably tucking in his waistband whatever gun he had snatched on his way to investigate the noise. He tugs the chain off, opening the door wider this time. You can see him looking around the street, ensuring it is only you and him. You feel like you can’t breathe like you are doing something you shouldn’t, even though you know this is precisely what you should be doing.

‘’ Are you alright? How did you get my… ‘’ You can hear the concern in his voice, see the confusion on his face as he trails off. His beard is shorter than the last time you had seen him, trimmed around the edges. You probably woke him up, you realize.

‘’ Are you doubting my skills now, ranger? ‘’

You want it to sound like a joke, you really do, but it lands flat, your voice is hoarse, tired, adrenaline wearing off. If he noticed it, he doesn’t tell you. He is not pushing you away, yet, and tonight, for the first time, you feel like you can really let your guard down. You take a deep breath, a shaky one, a sad one.

‘’ I hope I didn’t wake you. ‘’ Your voice is small, vulnerable. ‘’ I- ‘’

I need your help. It hurts to say it, to even think about it, and you can’t get the words out. They get stuck in your throat with all the sorry’s you owe him, the apologies you never gave him. His eyes are soft on you, deep brown eyes that always made you feel at home. That is when he notices it, the blood on your bottom lip, a straight cut, already swollen and purple where the fist had hit. His shoulders push back, finally awake, and you know he is ready to fight. You can tell his arms are tensing underneath his shirt, you can see how hard his gaze has become.

‘’ Who did this to you? ‘’

He takes a step towards you, towering over you, his hand moving your jaw to the side to try and see it better in the low light.

‘’ I took care of it, ‘’ You sigh. ‘’, but I need a favour. A big one, Gil. ‘’

You hesitate to tell him, to ask him to do this with you, for you. You know what he has been doing since he got back, joining the not-so-legal motorcycle club. Something about it being the closest it felt to being back in the field. It had been your lives for so long, breathing it, fighting for it, day and night, every second of it.

‘’ Tell me. ‘’

You can smell the detergent from his clothes, taste on your tongue what is left of the cigarette he had before bed. His hand is warm against your cheek, a nice contrast from the cold night. His thumb is caressing beneath your jaw, where the skin hasn’t bruised yet, and you can’t recall the last time you had been touched like this, slow, meaningful. You had missed this, him.

You take a quick look in the dark living room, past his shoulder, maybe he is not alone like you originally thought. You know Rae and Jacob haven’t been staying at their home lately, and Paul had told you that she had stayed a couple of nights at Gil’s. They must still be in the house when he gently presses you a few steps back, closing the door behind him. You really want to believe that it’s because of them, that he does this to keep their minds at ease, not to worry them about what mess you got yourself into this time. You don’t want to believe it might be because of someone else, that maybe he has someone now, someone he didn’t tell you about. He speaks again, gently coaxing it out of you.

‘’ You’re good, I got you. Tell me. ‘’

‘’ I took care of it, ‘’ You continue. Of him. ‘’ He’s in the trunk. ‘’

‘’ He’s in the what, now? ‘’

His hand falls from your jaw, landing in a strong grip where your neck meets the shoulder. It is not meant to hurt, and it doesn’t, you know it is mostly to keep you here, keep you from running away like you usually do. You know he would never let you deal with this on your own, you can’t turn around now, you have to face this.

‘’ I put him in the- ‘’

‘’ The trunk, yeah, I got that. ‘’

You swallow, and it doesn’t feel natural, like your muscles are clenching too hard to make the action happen. You bring a gentle hand to his forearm, taking in the heat that immediately covers your fingertips, the softness of the black shirt under your palm. You look back at him.

‘’ He deserved it, I swear. Gil, I- ‘’ Fuck.

You know there are tears in your eyes, you can’t help it. This whole thing makes you feel like a child, like you just got back from Iraq. You had always been able to be vulnerable with him, he would listen and listen until you had nothing to say anymore, nothing left to cry. A warm hand on your back, fingers in your hair.

‘’ Hey. I’ll take care of this. I know he did. ‘’

You know he doesn’t get it today, he couldn’t possibly, but you let him say it, let it justify your action, the blood that is still drying under your nails.

‘’ Let me make a few calls, okay? ‘’

You nod. You trust him, utterly and completely, with your safety, your life.

And so the both of you wait, seated shoulder to shoulder on the stairs of his porch. Gil's hand is warm on your knee, caressing the skin that peeks out of your distressed jeans. He wants you to stop bouncing your leg, you know it, it has always bothered him, how your stress showed up in micro-movements. You're making me nervous, ranger.

They come for your car fifteen minutes later, all leather cuts, no motorcycles and a single van. Coco, he tells you his name as he asks for your car keys. When you give it to him with a shaking hand, he tells you that everything is going to be fine, they'll take care of it. You believe him, you believe him because you trust Gil and he trusts them, but still, it feels like you are imposing, even when you know they have probably done this many times before.

Coco looks at Gil, a silent conversation you are not a part of, he notices his hand on your thigh, your busted lip.

‘’ We’re taking care of this, cariño. You're safe now. ‘’ Coco tells you.

You want to believe him, you really do. They leave after that, one car following the other, your secret with them. Yours and Gil's and theirs.

‘’ Don’t make a habit of this. ‘’

Gil’s eyes are back on you. He is joking, and it's funny, you laugh, but it doesn't come out like you want, choked in the throat.

‘’ I'm sorry, Gil. I know we haven't been talking much lately. I- ’’

He stops you, a large hand pressing the skin of your thigh.

‘’ Stop it. Whatever you need, you call, I'll answer. ‘’

You sigh and you allow your head to fall to his shoulder. You can’t remember the last time you had been this close, but it feels like you never left, a random night in a world where none of this would have happened. You thank him because there are no other words to make this right. You want to tell him that you owe him, that you will repent until this debt is paid, until he says you did enough to earn it back. His nose is in your hair and you can feel his chest move up and down with every breath. It had never been about that with him, he always took what you gave, broken pieces, burning ashes, wrapping it all up and giving it back to you fixed. You don’t remember when you started crying, silently sobbing against his arm, but he doesn’t mention it. He holds you, caressing your back with a hand, bringing you closer with the other one.

‘’ Stay with me tonight. ‘’ He whispers in your hair, ‘’ I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t. ‘’

That makes you cry harder. Deep inside of you, something is being fixed, an old war wound that had been buried for so long. I will, you tell him, just for tonight.

He doesn’t believe you, he knows you will get up from the bed the second he falls asleep, take your car that now smells like bleach and citrus, and ride out into the morning, away from him once again. When he rolls to your side of the bed in the morning, finding it cold and empty, he knew he was right. He was used to it, of course, a weird, silent arrangement between you two, that you would never be able to stay put for too long, but today, it hurts, pains him in a way it had never before.

‘’ ‘morning. ‘’

You pass the bathroom door that connects directly to his bedroom. Your hair is still damp from the shower, wearing a new set of his clothes on your back. He doesn’t say it back, he can’t, not when he suddenly doesn’t remember how to breathe, not when he can’t believe you actually stayed the night this time. You are here, and he is staring, he can’t look away.

‘’ I hope I didn’t wake you up. ‘’ You begin, ‘’ I just really wanted a shower, and then I heard Jacob in the kitchen, I… ‘’

You stop then, and he can tell that you have realized too, what he is thinking, why his eyes can leave your form. You try to speak again and explain, anything, but it doesn’t come out. Maybe there is no reason why today you chose to stay, out of all the others you could have. He can hear Rae in the living room, the sound of pans and the french toast that is being cooked in the kitchen. You silently walk to his side of the bed, offering him your hand. You smell like his soap and fresh coffee. He takes a deep breath as he reaches up for your palm, fingers lacing with your own as you finally swallow the lump in your throat.

‘’ Just for today then, yeah? ‘’

Your eyes are soft when he looks up, your smile meeting his own, already bright, unable to stop it from hurting his cheeks. Of course, he says, just for today. As many as you would like.

[disventurecamptakes]

Welcome back Mod Jake ! :>

If you don’t mind answering: How do you feel about the current remaining contestants (as of Episode 15)?

Hi anon, thank you! These might not be thought out super well but here are my basic takes:

Jake: The blorbo from my show! I feel like the build up to Jake’s character arc was dragged out in the first 12 episodes or so, but for the last three I’ve really enjoyed him— Tom was really holding him back clearly. His friendship with Aiden one of the highlights of the season for me. It’s nice to see him become more honest and emotionally mature and happy after everything he’s been through. If he doesn’t make the finale I’m going to sob.

Ally: Hot take but I like antagonist/morally gray Ally for the most part. The idea of a character who is so online that they become too insecure to function, who ends up pushing people away and becoming hated in their quest to be loved, is really interesting. And frankly sometimes characters have to become worse before they get better. However, within the context of the show’s pattern of either having the female characters work as support for the male protagonists or villainizing independent female characters, I do see why people find it frustrating.

Grett: Grett’s another character who had some weird build up (up until episode 13 she just felt like “Yul’s poor sad meow meow girlfriend” to me tbh, I felt like she wasn’t doing much) but I do like what they’ve done with her in the last few episodes. She’s clearly been through a lot of hardship and it’s nice to see a character come out on top of that. I also loved her friendship with Gabby, it was really cute and I wish it would’ve lasted a little longer, it’s nice to show Grett reconciling with her past by improving for the future and treating the person she was the worst to with kindness, as opposed to Yul who was terrible to her and left even worse. I would’ve written her a little differently but she still deserves to win imo. Also she slays always.

Riya: What did they do to my girl?? I loved Riya’s arc in season two, I thought she and Ellie had two of the best villain arcs in the series and I thought Riya was one of the best season two characters. But they really flushed that down the drain by making her comically evil and forgetting her motive. In season two Riya was a villain but she was sympathetic; she gradually lost sight of her morals in a quest for affection and fame, alienating her closest friend (Rosa María) and ultimately putting herself in mortal danger, which caused her to somewhat see the error of her ways. In the beginning of season three I think they tried to carry this over, showing her inner conflict in earlier episodes like episode 3. But by episode 14 they’d just…totally lost what made Riya human— a desire to fit in to what other people think of her (whether that be movie star or villain), close relationships with Connor and Alec, guilt, a sympathetic past, everything that happened in the season two finale— now she’s just evil because she’s evil, full stop. It’s really disappointing, because having her try too hard to lean into her villain persona and ultimately snapping out of it would’ve been so much more interesting, and I feel like if that’s what they plan to do later then they’re building up to it terribly tbh.

Connor: I really liked Connor in episodes 1-7, I thought he was a good straight-man and foil to Riya and Alec, I thought he was just pleasant and I liked seeing his growth from season two to now. But these last few episodes have simultaneously made him very unlikable while also making him essentially the main character, for some reason. The nepo baby plotline wasn’t built up to at all and it really undermines the successful businessman thing he had going, which made him feel more mature and intelligent; plus making him a union buster on top of that is just poor taste, like wtf. Having Jake as his right hand makes Jake more likable but it just makes Connor seem pathetic having this dude constantly go “nooo Connor pull it together remember that speech you gave us? really cool”. Like yeah Connor rallying the heroes together that one time was good, a little corny but ultimately good for the plot, but other than that all he does is be passive aggressive (or just aggressive) with Riya and Alec and be sad. Also making his feelings for Riya just disappear?? What?? He was in love with her, they understood each other in a way that no one else did in season two, his love for her humanized him a lot and vice versa with Riya’s feelings for him. Why remove that entirely? Sorry if I’m being harsh but I’m honestly really disappointed in how Connor’s being handled, he and Riya and Alec were a highlight of the early episodes and now they’ve been reduced to like the TD love triangle 2.0. But like, fanon love triangle, where Courtney is ridiculously evil for some reason and Gwuncan are just poor sad babies who did nothing wrong. Also if Connor makes the finale I’m going to be so annoyed. He doesn’t need three million dollars, he’s already rich.

Alec: Alec has gone from one of the most calculating and clever villains in the show’s history to a groveling little baby man and I don’t like it. On one hand I do like the idea of Alec growing a conscience after all he’s done to manipulate the game, and I do think it would be cute if that came from his relationships with Riya and Connor. But on the other, he’s become too pathetic imo. Alec’s defining traits are his intelligence, apathetic tendencies, and level-headed demeanor, and they’re really stripping that all back to make the audience sympathize with him when we already could’ve done that easily based on what’s already there?? The Riyalec kiss scene was really good at this; it showed us Alec’s and Riya’s deepest insecurities and regrets, then showed us the two understanding each other and finding comfort in that. Shipping aside, I genuinely think maintaining a positive relationship between them, friendly or romantic, would make them both feel more human while also allowing them to both remain as antagonists because they both would enable each other. They just took all the edge away from his character for like, mid yaoi crumbs. The way Riya is written vs how Connor & Alec are written actually feels reminiscent of how some m/m fics will demonize the fuck out of a character’s girlfriend or female friend or etc to prop up the male characters as sweet angels who’ve done nothing wrong, if I’m being honest.

Overall, I loved Aleconniya until episode 14 but I just want all three of them gone at this point because their writing is really far off from their original characterizations and it’s overall just not very good. But I do enjoy Jake, Grett, and Ally for the most part and hope they make the finale. Sorry this got kinda long, thank you for the question anon!

[thedeafprophet]

hewwo I was just curious about your trio because I’m love them :0 I’ve seen some of your posts before about their childhoods and where they’re from, and I was wondering what their relationship was like before the present day. like, how did they meet (since from what I gather, they’re from different places)? how old were they? how did they end up becoming so important to each other? when/why was the break up?

I was just curious, feel free to ignore! or take this as an opportunity to just talk randomly about your guys if you’re in the mood for that, no need to answer those questions if they’re a lot! :) also sorry if you’ve posted about this before/recently and I missed it!

gasp...... im always delighted to have an oppurtunity to talk about my blorbos. im sure ive posted about this before - But i will happily summarize again. I did an overview on where each of them were from Here (as well as some talk on accents), and I have the basic overview of their individual backstories in their character summaries linked in my pinned post

this is long so im gonna put it under the cut oop. hope you dont mind an essay

Meeting and School Years

The story of their dynamics really begins as many dreaded childhoods begin: at school. They all were attending the same industrial school as kids/teens, which is where they met. (if you dont know what an industrial school was, they were basically a type of charity run boarding schools created for 'vagrant' children. as a girl's school they wouldve been taught Employable Skills alongside sewing and cooking and such, alongside regular School Stuff)

Jamie was initially there before the other two were, only being around when they were 12 and Josie was 10 that the two of them met, Josie having ended up being sent there some time after her brother died. Jamie had been heavily ostracized from their peers prior to this, so kind of latched onto Josie after they started talking as they, well, didnt really have any other friends. The balancing out of the overly energetic and talkative nature from Jam was also helpful for Josie in a way, giving her the time to adjust and talk on her own accords. Jamie had a habit of sneaking out of the school to wander off into the nearby woods to play, and eventually began inviting Josephine on those 'adventures', which had its highlights and its dangerous moments- kids stuff, yknow how it is.

About a year later, Alex ended up at the same school after being 'transfered' from a reformatory school, long since having already been involved in criminal areas as a kid. (at this point the ages are 15, 13, and 11 for Alex, Jamie, and Josie respectivly)

Alex ended up becoming friends with the other two sort of on accident, when he punched out another girl for bullying Jamie - even back then, he didnt take well to bullies - and subsequently took the fall for such an action. After that Jamie basically wouldnt leave him alone, and dragged him along into the friendship and introduced him to Josie.

The trio spent another couple years at the school, where they learned to balance around and support one anoher in this place that Kind Of Sucks. Alex had plans to leave and meant to break away from the place when he was 17, but the other two insisted on coming with him.

Teen and Adult years

To what im sure is no surprise, Alex basically planned to continue being involved in crime upon his leaving. The other two were a touch involved as well, so to speak, in the matters of surviving on their own. I generally imagine Alex's plan was to return to Birmingham, so thats likely where they ended up.

The rest of this part of the timeline is less specific, a collection of key points between now and the decent to the neath. Important things include Alex's 'pretending' to be a boy for easier access into some spaces stop being pretending, and officially starts to go by Alex. The other two are pretty much okay with it . Jamie starts being involved with artsy groups and eventually gets a job at a theater - it is here they first meet their future ex. Josephine pursued further less typical education outside of the school, before her want to seek answers about personal matters overweighed that desire to just learn things.. and a whole bunch of other things, like Joise returning to Liverpool to seek answers there, Alex becoming more and more tied up in criminal activities (and arson) on the surface, Jamie playing games of copy get to try and climb higher (alongside burgeoning worsening mental health problems but thats another story).

So suffice to say - a lot of time and a lot of things occured. how did they end up becoming so important to each other? well, it was simply a matter of time and the commitment of having only a couple people you can rely on in a world that otherwise cares little for you. Build up of connection, and a support of friendship.

It was the same reason their dynamic ended up falling apart.

Ive talked before on how I don't really know how to qualify their relationship; its not romantic (especially considering the younger years), but its not entierly platonic. There's defiently familia aspects to it, but I wouldnt say they're directly siblings or such (though Jamie def has middle child syndrome lmao). Its a kind of found family relationship that doesn't quite fit within the expectations of expected dynamics.

The 'break up' so to speak wasnt neccearily because of one specific reason. When you have three young adults all in closed spaces, each dealing with their own issues, none having learned how to properly communicate..... well, when the foundation begins to crack, eventually the building is going to topple.

There was no 'final deciding argument' but rather many small ones, over long periods of time. conversations becoming less easy, time together less friendly. what once brought great joy and support instead brought feelings of tension and hurt. Some bends to the foundation simply become to great to support the weight, and it was a slow crumble, day by day.

The final descion to come to the neath was still based on one another, especially as Josie planned to leave one way or another to track down her brother's killer, and by all accounts they still came together. But by then the dynamic had already become fragile, and it would never quite be what it was again.

Sometimes thats just what happens when you grow up, and the people you love and the cricumstances change. Sometimes things just dont work anymore. Perhaps they never truly did.

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

WIP Wednesday

Hi, hello. I haven't been active in a while. Truth is that I'm in my exam session, and a lot is happening in real life and I'm overwhelmed. However, @bostoniangirl21 tagged me last week and sharing my love for writing with you guys always puts me in a better mood! So here is a little snippet of Chapter 3 of 'Hymn of the High Seas' that I managed to write while I was still on vacation! Also, @sheirukitriesfandom tagged me to make some ocs with this picrew, and I'm using this post as a combo😆. Thank you guys so much for the tags, they really make my day <3 <3

I'm tagging @sheirukitriesfandom and @bostoniangirl21 back and also @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @dirty-bosmer @thelavenderelf @illumiera for either the wip, the picrew, both or none, whichever you want, of course. 💖💖

~

“IT’S HER! THE ONE WHO ESCAPED FROM STROS M’QAI! SHE FITS THE DESCRIPTION!” someone shouts, catching Signe’s attention and sending her mind spiraling into madness with fear, desperation and guilt of dragging Rhaim with her into this doom. Several Thalmor surround them, far too many to fight, even as a team. Signe’s letting herself get distracted, feeling almost paralyzed with fear. ‘Not them. I’ve dragged my crew into peril before we even set sail.’ she thinks, but her thought bubble is violently popped by arms capturing her, making her drop her scimitar to the ground. 

“WE’VE CAUGHT THE DISGUSTING WORM!” A Thalmor shouts right by her ear, so hard that it’s now ringing. “You’re ours now, disgusting, filthy Nord! TAKE THE REST OF THEM ALONG! More practice dummies for our torture adepts-” is all he gets to day before his head gets cut off, falling to the ground with a haunting thud, rolling somewhere away. The others have little time to react because blades cleave through them like a reaper's scythe through a field of fragile blossoms, leaving behind a trail of blood and death. Thalmor bodies start falling around them, setting them free, and in the end, a cloaked figure stands with two katanas unseathed and arms open. The cloak is not like the rest of the thieves', signaling that whoever this is, is not with the Guild. Like fine silk, black robes fall on broad shoulders. The figure raises his head, showing a glimpse of fair skin and pale, pink lips.

“They’re looking for you. Why?” he asks, voice deep and an accent that Signe’s never heard before.

“We escaped Stros M’qai.” She says, panting, and the man finally lifts his gaze, piercing grey eyes looking at her from under a fringe of fine ebony hair.

“Wasn’t hearing things after all.” he huffs, the faintest hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Come with me. All of you.” he says swiftly, and starts moving through the crowd.

The crew exchange glances, silent agreements quickly passing by each and every one of them, and Signe starts catching up to their mysterious saviour.

~

Hmmmm, who could this mysterious saviour be? A new oc that I'm obsessed with, of course! He's Akaviri, and his name is Renjiro. Unfortunately, he's only going to be a secondary character in HOTHS, but he will appear more times throughout the fic!

And for the picrew, I chose to make him!! Look at my boy!

I have another oc that I made with this picrew, which is Edward!! He will be a crew member, and he's a sad blond blorbo (I have to have at least one sad blond blorbo in each project of mine apparently). Also, the hand that cups his face? It's a certain crewmate :D!

[lpsgirl109]

Ive never made a MFA headcanon post on here. I'm gonna do that right now. This is a cumulation of every headcanon I've come up with since 2020 so strap in. @eldritch-blorbo you especially

Bucky adopts Bruno sometime post show. We've all known this

Makoto's gay. Chloe's lesbian and trans. Adi is bi. Bruno is pan and genderfluid

Chloe and Kamala are dating AND KAMALA'S PARENTS ARE SUPPORTIVE because I promise you guys it's not the win you think it is headcanoning genuinely good and loving people as homophobic just because they're Muslim. I've seen this a concerning amount of times

Peter and Kamala are honorary Future Avengers. It is a shame Peter didn't interacted with them more

Kei is sort of an honorary Future Avenger he just like. Rarely gets involved in things. This guy's 12 the most he's doing is sending his kaiju to handle situations

Bruno loves dinosaurs and godzilla and dragons and anything involving giant reptiles

Chloe is a huge cat person

Chloe continues going to public school after s2. Idk if the boys would follow after. I think Adi and Makoto would be willing to. Bruno would probably just wanna be homeschooled

Kamala likes to joke about how Makoto and Bruno are just Sonic and Shadow. She makes them matching bracelets

Bruno and Kamala like to bully each other. They're besties but they like to tease

Bruno has a lot of leftover issues from Hydra that he's trying to unlearn. Thinks he has to earn things like food or downtime or medical care (thank you crescent and io comic). The others in the tower are helping him get over those habits

Chloe loves fashion. She can style just about anything and make it look nice

Bruno can't swim. Like genuinely if you throw him in deep water he's gonna sink

He also gets easily seasick. This guy doesn't mix well with water

Makoto and Kei stay in close contact after Kei moves away. Makoto's definitely the one Kei is closest to. They bond over not really getting to have normal childhoods

Adi collects snowglobes

If Shuri existed in this world. Which i pretend she does. She'd absolutely be besties with Chloe

I have thought extensively about how other marvel characters could be written into MFA actually. I've already talked about Harry i can absolutely go into detail on others at another time

Adi and Bruno bond over their shared issues. I think Adi's been one of Bruno's greatest supports into his healing journey, having dealt with similar problems himself

Bruno can't be in the hot sun for too long his body will absorb it and he will overheat

Adi still does a lot of trainings with Clint

I hc Adi being the oldest of the group so he feels responsible for them (even if he isn't really that much older)

I think Adi would have a pet snake. And Bruno would be fascinated by it

I like to imagine Bruno Carelli exists just because it's funny and both Brunos would hate each other

I think if Makoto and Peter got to interact more on screen they would've been best friends

While Makoto was time traveling, the rest of the main four were getting up to bullshit in the Sanctum. I know, they told me themselves

I think the kids still like to visit Carol's daycare and help out every now and then

Bruno would HATE Wade

Chloe and Makoto get into cosplay. They then drag Bruno and Adi into cosplay

Im all out for tonight. May come back with more another time

[dorylinae-supremacy]

Toying with yet another AU besties because I'm plagued by visions.

Autism just enters hyperdrive sometimes and demands I put my blorbos in even more situations. Rn I'm playing with a vampire hunter AU, something dark and with a bit of angst as per usual.

Emduo being hunters and then one of them (maybe Techno) getting bit and turned. Obviously Phil is absolutely devastated. He's a pretty mean hunter and takes a bit too much joy in killing already but he cant imagine having to put his friend down.

But thats exactly what he needs to do and Techno's asking him to do it. This is where meanza gets shaken up into a more skrunkly form.

Maybe he decides to keep Techno at his house for a few days, just giving him some comfort before eventually having to put him down, Tech kinda settles for it because who wouldnt want things to be normal again so that you can be comfortable before your bestie / father figure kills you because you got bit.

Toss in him getting bit because he was protecting Phil and its even more fun.

Anyway Phil is trying to hype himself up for it but Techno's so easy to just delay and put off that he kinda falls into the groove of things. He gets it in his head that maybe he doesnt have to kill his friend, maybe he can just keep him locked and hidden away.

He brings this up and Techno is obviously not really down for this but they're both desperate and neither really want him to die so they totally start actually thinking about it.

They 'hypothetically' talk it out a few times before Tech stats going downhill a bit. He's not being fed and he has no sire around so stuff isnt fun. Phil panics and goes off to get a vampire. He drags them back and lets Techno feed off of them and its a bit better.

The venom in the blood is just enough to sustain him. This form of vampirism would be less complex than AFN's since otherwise Techno would probably just die because theyre both clueless. So instead its a very watered down version.

Anyway things progress like that for a while and Phil has to bring in actual human bodies for Techno to feed on. He gets over it very quickly but Techno doesnt and usually has to be convinced to actually feed.

Obviously after some time Techno latches onto Phil as his sire despite him not even being a vampire and his morals slip a bit too.

In the end we get dark emduo and its very fun.

I had another one in mind where Phil gets bit instead but because he has spent so long on the field he knows how to take care of himself, Techno is very skrunkly and along for the ride in that one too.

Just clings to his bestie and helps cover stuff up while Phil (a bit too eagerly) starts doing his vampire bullshit. It totally ends in Phil biting him and turning him as well.

[silversiren1101]

[Because I'm going through stuff, time to make my blorbos too. A flash of a scene: the immediate aftermath of Minovae using the aeon the restore the bulk of her memories in Act 3...]

Her mind burned.

She couldn't feel the stone beneath her knees. Couldn't hear the concerned voices around her. Couldn't see through the white flash gradually turning red. Couldn't feel the wet heat of the blood soaking her clothing from the mysterious chest wound that'd reopened, of the crimson streaming down her face from her nose and eyes and ears as the Aeon had torn off whatever magic had been suppressing her memories without gentleness or care.

All that existed to her then was that burning, of which two versions of her screamed in unison. The barrier keeping them separated gone, both suddenly occupied the same cramped, burning, bleeding mind. Both were the truth. Both made up her whole.

They should've blended, congealing into a solid singular her. Water meeting more water. Blood into blood.

But only one had stayed conscious through the agony, for agony was the only thing she knew.

All she, this Minovae, knew, was demons.

Distantly, she heard screaming. Distantly, she felt she was clothed. Distantly, she felt no pressure about her wrists and ankles.

No gag. No humiliation. No bindings.

Consciously, none of that mattered with the pain.

Her hands clutched at her head, trying to swat at the agony protected by the bone of her skull. Break it. Shatter it. Get it OUT! Panic and terror choked her from within at the feeling, all so sudden and new and familiar all at once. What was this?! What had they done to her now? Hadn't the demons found every way to have their fun with her by now?! Except—No. No. This pain like a smoldering briar had been dragged through her mind time and time again, like a poker left to turn white-hot in the fire had been driven into every crevice—she knew this pain.

"...Commander...?"

This was that pain. Memories flashed, each agonizing, of her chained in that dungeon in Egorian, of those false Hellknights, those pretenders calling themselves the Glyph...! Their clawed hands raked through her thoughts to find what she'd seen! To find her weaknesses, to find—! NO! They'd already found it: Him. And he was... was... The memories fractured and spiraled. Cold stone pressed against her brow as in reality she crumpled to her hands and knees but she wasn't in reality anymore. Two separate images overlapped in her mind's eye: skin warm as amber yet also grey as stone; molten gold irises turned pale as citrine in a single blink; all so much color and life bleeding out to lifeless grey and white.

"Arangeir! Can you hear me?"

She heard his voice then, too. She recognized it and didn't, because it was wrong. Too much gravel. Too much concern. He didn't feel for her like that to sound that way. She'd given up everything to keep him safe but he didn't know that. He'd never sound like that.

All of this was a trick, she realized. This was yet another cruelty from the demons in the only way they could know amusement and joy. It had to be.

"She's bleeding out! We need to—"

"Careful! Something is wrong. She's not... that's not her."

Different voices. Names welled in her subconscious like a plea to stay away as much as it is a plea for help. 'Seelah... Seelah don't let me hurt anyone... Keep Sosiel away... keep... everyone...'

But the half of her in control didn't know those voices. The half of her in control only heard around her the scheming of demons, watching eagerly to see how this new torment they've devised will play out.

"Minnow! It's okay! It must be so scary but you're not alone! We're here!"

Her heart squeezed in a vise at that high and bright voice. So encouraging. 'Ember, please, run—I can't—'. So clear through the pain, somehow, like...

"Focus, Arangeir! Pull yourself together. I know you can. You're better than this."

But then it was his again. The liar. The scheme. The trick. The torture—

She bolted upright in an instant. She needed to see what horrible creature awaited her in the direction of that voice, so wrong as much as something in her wept that it was the truth. The white flashing of agony had given way to smeared crimson—blood! Had they torn her eyes out and restored them yet again just before death claimed her? How they loved that one—and through them did she see the trick they'd planned for her.

How laughable. He didn't look like that: aged like decades had passed!? Bleached like he'd succumbed to despair?! Staring at her with that mote of concern in those wrongly pale eyes? Not him. Never. She realized the demons had found a way to read through her mind just like House Thrune had, but demons were clumsy and brutish beasts.

The illusion before her was not Regill Derenge. She knew it wasn't.

She knew it was.

Only then did the pain dull then, giving way to a rage she'd never thought herself capable of feeling ever again. All so much torture, everything she'd suffering from devil's hands to those of the Abyss had stolen from her such passion, she'd thought. But these horrid fiends had thought to wield against her the one being she'd never suffer dishonored in such a way. All that she'd given of herself to keep him safe, securing his safety with that infernal brand Thrune pressed upon her...

Her nails dragged across the stone so sharply she may have looked down to see they were still there had she been her other self. Blood filled her mouth from the clenching of her teeth into her snarl, and she realized the demons had also restored her fangs this time with her eyes. How long had she been without them? It didn't matter; time was meaningless in the dungeons beneath Drezen and she wasn't about to let their mistake go to waste.

She would remind them again why they'd torn them from her mouth in the first place.

Every muscle coiled as she pounced, far stronger than she should've been capable of. This body wasn't starved, wasn't weak from torture and despair and nothingness. But the rage kept her from seeing through that veil to the truth, so thin as to be nearly transparent. The rage only drove her forward, flaring even hotter as that face that was not his and yet so very much was briefly flashed in alarm before she made contact with him.

"Arange—!" His voice cut off with a grunt as she tackled him to the ground, as she knocked the wind out of him. He had yet barely breathed in more, barely shouted for her to "—what are you d—!"

Before it all choked into wet, gurgled, gasping.

And it struck her that the wet, crimson heat flowing around her fangs, now buried in his throat, didn't taste as it did the last time she'd wielded them against a demon. It tasted like the one and only other mortal they'd torn through before—of the Thrune whose throat she'd left a hollow ragged gape upon finding out what had become of her stolen Foundlings...

This wasn't demon blood. This wasn't demon flesh.

"Oh, gods! Get her off of him!" Someone yelled, coming to her in her haze as if through water.

She reared back. Everything was shaking. The blood filled her mouth. The blood was everywhere. Splattered across his face that was and wasn't—no, was. Something inside of her screamed, just screamed at her that it was. Arterial red gushed from the ragged gash she'd torn beneath him, covered now by his gauntleted hand applying pressure best he could. Even as blood spluttered from his lips, then streaming, his gaze never faltered. Pale, so wrongfully pale, those yellow irises glared up at her.

She could only shake, paralyzed by them.

"Y-you... fool..."

She wanted to scream. Wanted to disappear. Wanted to... to...

'Go to sleep, Minnow. It's okay. You're scared. You did something bad. But it's okay. Go to sleep and it will all be okay when you wake up.'

Sleep.

She wanted to sleep.

Ember's hex washed over her like a warm bath, taking his blood from her mouth along with it.

[nights-at-crystarium]

(If you recognize me despite anon no you don't I'm too shy to face the consequences of my actions <3)

Your work helped to pull me out of a rut that made me fear I'd not create again. I felt like I couldn't create for the sake of it, like there was no space for me in my own life--suffocating on being so used to creating for others that after some friends cut me off, I shut down altogether and didn't create barely anything for almost a year.

And then I, by some cosmic chance, a fluke I can't even recall, found an episode of Fragments. Not even in ShB yet, freshly in possession of the full game, already adoring Raha, I naturally poked my nose into it. Devoured it, honestly. It was inspiring in a way I can't rightly put into words, to see someone creating for themselves. Even down to art style, there was something that struck a chord with me, and made me think that maybe--I oughtta try again. I sat down. I drew.

It was reading your comic and studying aspects of your art that I particularly loved that dragged me, kicking and screaming, back to drawing, as infrequently as I still do it. It was seeing you being you and creating for yourself that made me take a step towards doing that for myself.

And even if you read this and think "well that's a touch much, I'm just me" or something to that effect; even a candle can be a lighthouse when you feel too small to stand. So thank you, for just doing what you do, because your little light in the darkness helped me to have just a bit of whatever it was I needed to do what I do.

(Why hello there, beautiful stranger, this must be the first time we ever spoke <w<)

It'd be hypocritical of me to say that I've always been able to draw with such ease and never had an artblock, or always loved what came out. Years and years ago, I also relied on being inspired by others, roleplayed with someone in another fandom, and it turned me into the happiest art machine. Drawing for others was pretty much the only way I drew.

Getting abandoned by that rp buddy, well, it broke me forever. Then followed a few years of drawing the bare minimum to earn for my living, although I wasn't sure that living was something I felt up to anymore. Whatever few things I drew for myself back then, I still keep them, but they're hard to look at because they literally crawl apart, the proportions and all, giving away the poor mental state I was in.

Then, we enter the known chunk of recent history where I learn of a catboy, hyperfixate a little, no, really a little, I didn't have plans to become what I am in xiv now, and the overwhelming response to it made me feel alive for the first time in many years. Frankly and cynically, I just got lucky that my blorbo happened to be popular, but the fact stands true: I found my reason to have fun drawing and living again.

Over the past few years I only got more confident in my decision to cater only to my tastes from here on. I'm incredibly lucky that others find it enjoyable too, and that we seem to agree that self-indulgence is THE way to exist in a fandom.

Here's some dark me-lore in exchange for your sincere message, a vulnerability for vulnerability.

[biscuityskies]

Consumerist culture is going to be the end of me.

Trying to beat it back with a stick as I drag myself to work and then to the grocery store and then to the department store where they have things that they don’t have at the grocery store is hard enough. BUT NOW I HAVE TO BEAT IT BACK WITH A STICK IN FIC WRITING???? WITH MY SILLY LITTLE BLORBOS????? WHERE I GO TO GET AWAY FROM CONSUMERIST CULTURE???????

I’m sorry I don’t write long, drawn out, multi-chaptered fics that have a beginning a middle and an end. I’m sorry I can’t spare the time or the energy trying to figure out how best to navigate my writing, because I’m just trying to survive the real world. I’m sorry I can’t write the amazing cinematic masterpieces. Doesn’t mean I don’t dream about it.

Perhaps more importantly, I’m sorry to the other authors whose works I no longer have time to read. And I’m sorry to the other authors who are feeling this way.

My stick is breaking, and I don’t have another one.

[barrenclan]

The last issue is giving me many Egrettail thoughts so can I suggest “Sonya Alone” from The Great Comet of 1812 as a song for Egret singing about Hush Puppy? Their friendship and the way things ended for Hush Puppy is so tragic, and this song really captures the vibes of watching your beloved friend getting dragged into something terrible and feeling powerless to stop it. Also just Egrettail’s deep devotion to her as a friend, being willing to follow her into this death cult on the fragile hope that she might be able to save her. I am thinking blorbo thoughts so hard rn

(Another long music compilation)

What a great read on Hush Puppy and Egrettail; this song fits both of them very well! It's also nice that I can imagine this voice being a claim for Egrettail.

"I watch my friend In her strange, unnatural state Don't let her out of my sight"

"I know you so well my friend I know you might just run away What am I to do? Who do I ask for help? Is it all on me?"

"I won't see you disgraced I will protect your name and your heart Because I miss my friend"

Another good song for Hush Puppy, although this one is sadder. Toward the end of her life Hush Puppy was very docile and guilty due to the abuse she suffered from Thrasher.

"It's hurting, but that's okay 'Cause I'm in your way You'll break that foot that you're standing on I'll walk with the other one"

"Oh, I think you're holding the heart of mine Squeeze it apart, that's fine"

I like the symbolism in this song, I think it could apply to the whole of the story very well without a focus on just Pinepaw, albeit with him at the center.

"We all walk down to the hill Where the gallows are swinging still Nooses still clenched tight ‘Round the necks of 10 million ghosts They whisper don’t forget us But don’t forget to keep moving on"

Family Jewels is great for any dysfunctional family, so of course! Haha, but yes, this one is good for Asphodelpaw in particular. She struggles a lot with the idea of the cycle of familial abuse, in particular related to her expectations as a she-cat to bear children and take a mate.

"I can't break the cycle, am I just a fool? Falling down like dominoes, hit by family jewels Pass it down from kid to kid, the chain will never end 'Less I decide to go to it, will I see the end?"

"Family said that I decided to live a loveless life Is it my fault we stay divided? 'Cause I got too much pride"

"And when we're in the dark, it echoes in your heart And when you're far away, it beckons me to stay"

[weird-dere-writes]

The way I would SHOVE Sakura out of the way and be in your space like 🙂 “correction. Nirei isn’t his friend he’s MY Bestfriend 🙂🙂🙂.”

I see you glance his way a second time and I’m just sipping punch and spouting off facts like “he’s single. a virgo. could save your life with his type O blood. Do you wanna say hi? 🙂🙂🙂”

Sakura has to literally drag my nosy ass away when Akihiko makes his rounds to chat up everyone and comes to politely introduce himself to you when he doesn’t recognize your face. He gets excited about the outfit you wore to the party and starts asking you questions about where you shop/and is genuinely interested in learning more about your vibes.

I’m like the grinch smiling watching your meet cute unfold rubbing my hands together like a grubby little fly on the wall while sakura is shoving me out the door so he can get his one on one time with me aksnsjkwjw

No but seriously, akihiko nirei is my blorbo bestie fr TELL ME MOREEEE 👀

PLSSSSS KAIL UR GONNA KILL ME LMAO

The more you spit random facts about him, the more I want to hide, bc I know if you're doing that I am obvious to you! And if you can tell, then probably others at the party can too!! 😖

"Do you wanna say hi?"

YES.

But also NO.

I am just a baby I cannot do this 🫣.

I finally get a breather when Sakura pulls you away ONLY TO HAVE MY HEART JUMP UP INTO MY THROAT WHEN AKIHIKO MATERIALIZES OUT OF NOWHERE.

Something about the way he introduces himself calms me, though. And when he starts gushing about my outfit, I feel flattered because I wasn't sure it was dressed right for this kind of party? I'm just a soft girly in a slay world.

(Le fit)

When he asks me about where I shop, I tell him I don't shop much, but when I do, I go to (insert place here). A lot of the stuff they have is cute and actually fits a body like mine! And he just lights up because that is one of his favorite places to get clothes and accesories too!

He tells me a funny story about something that happened to him there one time and my eyes just about pop put of my sockets laughing because I realize I was actually there at the time to witness this silly thing happen. And I'm just like "OMG WAIT- that was you?!"

And he hits me back with a "OMG WAIT- you saw that?!"

And we're both just smiling and laughing about it.

I'm enjoying myself so much I don't even notice the grubby fly hand rubbing aura that I normally 100% would from miles away emanating from you LMAO.

From there, we kinda just start talking and sticking to one another for most of the party (except for when bofurin boys drag him away for something, but he always comes back).

At some point during the party I notice you and Haruka are gone and I have that same energy of grinch smile and grubby fly hand rubbing, knowing EXACTLY what you two are doing but as BF and GF now >:DDDDDDD. Me making a mental note in my head to tease u and ask about all the details later 😏.

BUT N E WAY. As the party is wrapping up, Nirei tells me he thinks I'm really pretty and I get so bashful about it sobs. Since you and Haruka are still long gone in the high heavens of the bone zone somewhere (pffft), Nirei offers to take me home <3.

We exchange numbers and have started texting here and there since then uwu 🫶🏾.

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

Cesar in my AU!

Cesar is interesting in my AU, as he survived the Alternate Encounter by faking his death(Look at him. He’s a theater kid. ), waiting until the Alternate moved on, and then hurried to pack a bag in a fit of panic and hurried to leave the house. More under the cut!

Trigger warnings for: Mentioned suicide, implied near-death experience, religion mention, loss of belief mention, stuff like that, please be careful, guys!

After this, he changed his name, cut his hair, quit singing entirely(No matter how much it pained him since it was a hobby he absolutely loved, but his voice was too recognizable, so he HAD to give it up. He still talks, but mostly uses sign language, despite how difficult it is for him to learn.), took on a job that he would never have taken up if he weren’t attacked by an Alternate(grocery bagger), gave up religion entirely(“What God would allow this to happen to me?”), and just changed himself almost entirely, only showing his true self if he trusts someone enough.

He has no clue about Mark’s death and just thinks he lost his phone, hence why he never answers Cesar’s calls. When he finds out, he’s crushed, but shows it in what most people would see as a “mild reaction” to being told your best friend killed himself.

This isn’t because Cesar doesn’t care, far from it, actually, he cares a lot, he just hasn’t really slept much due to the aftermath of encountering an Alternate and surviving due to him playing dead.

When Cesar is overly stressed, if he doesn’t go nonverbal, he just falls back to speaking in spanish. Jonah(haven’t talked about him yet, but I also have thoughts about him, my funky stoner pizza-loving blorbo <3) typically translates whenever he’s nearby if Cesar shuts down.

Cesar is a HUGE recluse nowadays, typically only going outside if it’s an ABSOLUTE emergency.

Overtime, Cesar breaks out of his shell, going outside slightly more often. His apartment is really well kept, as he cleans often to make sure he stays awake as long as he can.

The instant Cesar first meets Sarah, he just…hugs her. He hugs her and, for the first time since knowing about Mark’s death, cries, because he can’t imagine how badly it’s affected her.

He knew how close Sarah was to Mark, so he tries to see if he can help her in any way, which, in his eyes, is a good thing, although on Sarah’s end, it’s sorta annoying/condescending.

As time goes on, Cesar tries to understand the whole “BPS” thing, but it’s a little hard for him to wrap his head around.(When someone tells him “It’s just Ghostbusters but with Alternates” is when it clicks for him lol.)

Honestly, Cesar is a BIT of a coward, running away at the slightest bit of danger, but he slowly gets better!...slowly…VERY SLOWLY…

Oh, yeah, he has a shotgun. Did I mention that? He has it in case he runs into another Alternate.(Yes, they don’t work on Alternates, but he doesn’t know that.)

He accidentally runs into Thatcher one day. Thatcher pulls a gun on him because “YOU LOOK LIKE THAT ONE ALTERNATE”. Cesar merely sighs defeatedly because he’s too fucking tired to deal with this.

Honestly, that’s a good way to describe Cesar Post-Attack. Tired. He’s so tired, thinking can be hard for him somedays, but he never lets himself rest for too long, lest the nightmares get to him again or he risk encountering another Alternate.

If he ever met Stanley, he would scream as loud as possible, pulling EVERYONE away from him, putting himself in front of them.

He runs into Alt!Mark at one point. That goes about as well as you can expect. Most of the time, Cesar runs from danger, but this time-THIS ONE GOD DAMN TIME-he doesn’t. He can’t bring himself to move. He’s frozen in place. He has to get dragged away while he screams “WAIT, NO, PLEASE, THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND, THAT’S MARK, NO, NO, PLEASE!!!” because he can’t see past the flaws in the Alternate. He just sees Mark.

He’s still as good a cook as ever, he just seems a little…sadder whenever he does, because he can’t sing and cook like he used to. The most he does while cooking is tapping his foot and humming.

After a while, he does start singing again, as he realizes “OH SHIT I’VE HIT PUBERTY MY VOICE SOUNDS DIFFERENT I CAN SING AGAIN!!! :D”

That’s what I’ve figured out so far, but feel free to ask me anything you have questions about!