#ANYWAYS sorry i haven't been writing

[walmartbrandwhatever]

Have I worked on that pt. 2 to my marbit fic at all....no no I haven't 😔. Ik shame on me but I might rewatch newsies while I write because God knows I don't need to be physically watching the screen to know what's happening.

[vifilms]

will u PLEASE write abby with sensitive nipples and reader who knows this and likes to tease her (and them)

❝ GOT MILK? ❞ ♱ ABBY ANDERSON!

“is this what you like, baby? need your pretty little nipple played with until you cum?” you lightly twist her nipples, abby’s body writhes against the mattress as she bucks her hips into you. achingly so, her muscles are sore from patrol but the ache between her thighs is the most painful. “my girl is just a little tired, needs to be taken care of don’t you?”

normally, this is how things went. abby came home tired, her brain wouldn’t let her sleep, still reeling from dealing with the nonsense of manny all day. completely and utterly stressed, and you did what you did best — fuck her until she couldn’t see straight. “yeah, i need your mouth. please?”

“i don’t know…you’ve been gone an awful lately. i was in the showers yesterday and i almost started fucking myself because i missed you so much but then leah came in and i had to come here, in your bed.” abby grunts as you take her pink nipples, sucking on them like your life depends on it. latching on as if she’ll start lactating, your tongue rapidly flicking over as abby gains some friction, rubbing her pussy on your clothed thigh.

“umf! fuck…” intentionally, your forefinger and thumb lightly twisting her other nipple you couldn’t give your attention to at the moment. “m’so sensitive, so wet, please. need to cum so fucking bad.”

you slap her cunt, enjoying the whimper falling from her pink, puffy lips. the attack on her nipples doesn’t cease, not when your thumb started circling her cunt, not when she starts riding your fingers, and especially when abby starts cumming around your fingers when you lightly bite her nipples.“oh. you like it when mommy nibbles on your nipples? i’ll have to remember that, babygirl.” another clap to her cunt has her pussy fluttering, ready to take whatever else you have in store.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

[lorephobic]

literally nobody asked for it, but here's my list of saltburn essays that i've slowly been drafting over the course of the last week which WILL be required reading for anybody trying to engage with me about this movie. my very personal saltburn 101 syllabus just dropped

A Wolf in Deer's Clothing: Saltburn's Attempt at Innocence

an examination of party costumes and our character's last attempts to masquerade as something they're not: felix—an angel, all-forgiving and all-knowing, something to be worshiped; and oliver—a prey animal, prey to class-divide, prey to saltburn, prey to felix.

thoughts about oliver specifically are loosely organized in my #bambi tag

A Midsummer Night's Mare: Farleigh Start as the Ultimate Victim of Saltburn

a farleigh character study, about the ways he was mistreated and manipulated at saltburn, about fighting to stay alive and the scars left behind by knowing when to give in

alternatively titled "QuickStart", may be adapted into a conclusive essay specifically focusing on oliver and farleigh's relationship

The Eye of the Beholder: On Saltburn's Voyeurism & Violence [working title]

how wealth and class pushes the catton's toward the volatile reality of being able to look, but not touch. on desire and the lack thereof, and portraying yourself as an object to be desired

may end up as two separate essays on wealth and aestheticism but i'm pushing toward a conclusive essay about the intersection of the two, which i feel is at the heart of saltburn

alternatively titled "Poor Man's Pudding: A Melvillian Approach to Saltburn's Class", again, may be adapted into it's own essay

Gender-Fluid: A Study in Sexuality and Saltburn's Desire to be Dry

a deep dive into the bodily fluids of saltburn and how oliver upsets the standard of men who are just so lovely and dry. on the creative choice to lean into the messy wetness of sex and desire and the audience's instinct toward repulsion

a celebration of the grotesque and an examination of why we would label it as such

least developed of the four, heavily inspired by @charnelpit's lovely post about the fluids in saltburn

if anybody is actually interested in any of these, i can work toward something closer to a finished piece instead of just bullet points and quotes in a google doc, but mostly this is so i can share my very brief takes on a multitude of themes in saltburn that have been haunting me

edit for people seeing this in the future: all posts about my essays are being organized into my #saltburn 101 tag if you’re interested in following these through to development!

[littlespoonevan]

.

[camellia-thea]

okay. just rambling here, but, i think armand took more than just the end of the interview away from daniel.

we got that little moment about that night, saying 'you asked me to' to louis. 'you asked me to take this from you, you could not live with it,' leading into, 'i look after you when you cannot look after yourself, i make those choices for you.'

we know that during the chase and devil's minion era, daniel was an addict, who was, by his own admission, slowly killing himself. he was also addicted to blood.

it's really not too far to make the jump, if devil's minion occurred, that armand made the choice to step in, in his own mind, for daniel's best interests. i know this isn't a unique jump to make, but; again with armand's "i look after him when he cannot look after himself" continual reiteration, i think it's a fair assumption.

he can also replace and blur memories, which makes the discussion of alice and paris -- why the dessert from that night? -- and how immediate and sincere his answer of "she wanted to say yes, but she didn't trust you. you hadn't given her a reason to." this could be the night he took them away, replaced himself with alice, planted something similar for her to start the relationship, then step back and watch it fall. and i think the thing that stands out there is just how tender he is while saying it. there's an undercurrent of something else entirely underneath, it isn't a dig at daniel in the moment, despite the pushing earlier in the scene.

and then in s1, when louis say to daniel, "i'd give it to you now." and the cut to armand, still in disguise, and his micro-expression of horror, the way he stiffens and looks away... and the little moment of what i read as conflict when daniel says no. his jump to "may i be excused?" i can't tell in the moment, if he's horrified about the offer itself, the fact that it is louis offering to turn daniel rather than himself, or the fact that daniel denies it. because i don't think armand could actually let daniel die if this was the case.

the disguise itself-- why pretend to be rashid? i think part of it is to try and hide behind a human persona to keep those memories at bay; especially given the little moments of flashback that got triggered by little mannerisms. i can't decide whether they're intentional pushes or not, whether armand wanted/wants daniel to remember on his own, or wants to keep it under wraps. i think, even if he believes he doesn't want it to come forward, he truly does deep down.

and once he's revealed himself as armand, the way he gazes at daniel, his beautiful boy. the continued "our boy", from both he and louis, the "he's still in there, somewhere..."

and i think "our boy" is also really interesting, because why would daniel be armand's boy, based solely on the moments that louis initially remembered? armand didn't really have any emotional connection to daniel that night, sure, he saved him, but that doesn't really mean anything; he saved daniel for louis, not for daniel's sake.

and, jumping back "our boy,[...] he's still in there somewhere"... there's implication that louis might know about it? again, i don't think this is related to the original interview, or at least, limited to it? i don't have anything concrete here, just vibes, but again, why is armand's boy still in there somewhere?

and sure, some of these are reaches and i don't think i'm necessarily right, but god it would be deliciously awful if i was.

[taco-drinking-bleach]

PART 1: basic information Am I unwell about Yanqing? Well, I'm sure enough I'm well enough about him that's why we getting another rant about him :]!! (although that will be in part 2) -Purple: References to time -Red: References to his power, strength, or swordmanship -Green: His character -Blue: His past Today we gonna cover the abundance theory, first I should cover what it is and point you to this reddit link: https://www.reddit.com/r/YanqingMains/comments/1dqmmdl/abundance_yanqing_theory_explained/ that has a connecting Youtube video ^^^ and this reddit post that explained what is was 2 me at first!: https://www.reddit.com/r/YanqingMains/comments/1cgp2it/yanqing_is_sus_and_not_enough_people_are_talking/ First and foremost it summarizing what we know, and what some may not. This isn't all abundance, some of it is merely his lore to understand him better so its easier to under the theory. :] Yanqing's birth parents, origins, and how he spent his earliest years are unknown.

"It's recorded in the military annals of the Cloud Knights how Jing Yuan came to discover the young boy, stood his ground against public opinion, and incorporated him into the armed forces. However, in the family lineage column, Yanqing's lineage was relegated to the category of unknown." What we *do* know is that he was put within the Cloud knights young, loves swords, and is extremely talented (if not doomed) . also the lines "He was born for the sword and is obsessed with it. Whenever a sword rests in Yanqing's hand, none would dare underestimate this genius still in the early days of his youth. Perhaps the only thing capable of dulling his treasured blade's sharp edge is time." - Character Details "Youngest lieutenant in the history of the Cloud Knights" "Ever since he could remember... follow Jing Yuan around.....helping the Seat of Divine Foresight.....Jing Yuan in return taught him the art of swordplay..and...war." "Yanqing is "A gifted swordsman born to fight."' - Character Story: Part I "this genius' debut on the battlefield was even more explosive" - Character Story: Part II "If you ask Yanqing what other interests he has besides sword fighting, you'll be met with a simple answer —

"Interests are temporary, my sword is forever!"' "But for this vastly impressive teen, it's now time to turn over a new page in the annals of history and write another chapter" -Character Story: Part III "Jing Yuan spent much time and energy in raising Yanqing. Some speculated that he was cultivating an heir, others claimed he only kept him around just to use this kid as a secret weapon. Jing Yuan never offered a response." "Yanqing became an unrivaled fighter aboard the Xianzhou Luofu as his skills grew more and more advanced" "What Yanqing needs right now is not more strength, but the ability and experience of curbing that strength — something that can only manifest by the passage of time." -Character Story: Part IV

"The boy is still tightly grasping the sword even when fast asleep against the general's shoulder. The general gently taps the boy's cheek, and the boy mutters in his sleep. "General... I finally... won."

The general pauses. He suddenly realizes that, compared to the boy trying to improve every day, he himself has endured too many years and is used to stagnation.

"You will soon be better than everyone, and that will only be the beginning..."' -Sleep Like the Dead, the lightcone VL's about him (although this isn't really important, it can show insight on how he is preserved, this can help us know his intentions, and if he himself is aware of the abundance.) "Your martial prowess exceeds that of the general, while I surpass him in strategy."- Fu Xuan Added to Team With Yanqing "The smell of this Luofu swordmaster is as pure as his character — I only detect the scent of rain. Hmm, does this mean that his will is pure, or that he is too naïve?"- Lingsha about Yanqing "Master Yanqing has very rigorous teaching style. He's always saying "that's what the general taught me back in the day," ...Looks like everything General Jing Yuan taught him he knows by heart." -March 7th About Yanqing ""A sword will vibrate and beg to be unsheathed if it is unused for too long… Once unsheathed, it will either paint the battlefield in blood, or break itself in the process…"' -Yukong About Yanqing Etymology

彦 Yàn means "elegant," and 卿 Qīng means "high ranking official." (The name Great Qing first appeared in 1636. Since there was no official explanation from the Qing government about the origin of the name, there are competing explanations on the meaning of Qīng (lit. "clear" or "pure"). -The character Qīng (清) is composed of "water" (氵) and "azure" (青), both associated with the water element Rain is often associated with life, growth, and renewal, but it can also represent sadness, loss, and despair) -Rain has been considered a symbol of divine blessings in many cultures -There is also scientific evidence to support the idea that rain symbolizes fertility -Rain can also be used to symbolize the unknown or the hidden. In many cultures, rain is associated with the divine or supernatural Specific birds give hidden meanings in Chinese paintings, individual entries in this section include magpies, quails, swallows, cranes, ravens, eagles and many others -The coming of swallows in spring was welcomed and signified good luck for the household. This may be linked to their amazing nest building skills, they can quickly repair and build a structure just out of mud. To account for their disappearance in winter, there was a legend that swallows spent the time transformed into mussels by the sea. In Europe it was believed that they -birds in china "Clouds are considered lucky and so feature heavily in Chinese pictures and symbolism. This is most likely down to the obvious connection that clouds bring the much needed rain to water the crops. It also sounds the same as 运 yùn ‘luck, fortune, fate’." -clouds in china

"The wave design is a common emblem in pictures and on the hem of garments. Water in regular waves represents the sea. The tide 潮 cháo made up of waves sounds the same as 朝 cháo which means ‘Imperial court’ and so waves may symbolize a wish for a job in the Imperial service" -waves in china "Ice forms the boundary between air (yang) and water (yin), from this it symbolizes the match-maker (冰人 bīng rén) who forms the male-female partnership (a true 'ice-breaker' !). Ice symbolizes purity and winter. There is a design made from the pattern of cracked ice that is used in lattice window and porcelain designs. Ice also alludes to the story of Wang Xiang ➚ who was so devoted to his parents that he used his own body heat to melt ice so he could catch carp for his evil step-mother." -ice in china "Not until after one month of life, mǎn yuè (滿月), was a child's birth celebrated in ancient China, due to the high mortality rate. At this celebration, infants traditionally were given a longevity lock, a type of necklace that brought protection, health, and longevity. Often engraved with auspicious phrases, such as 'may you live to one hundred years’, cháng mìng bǎi suì (長命百歲). The lock is made from silver, gold or copper, depending on the wealth of the household." -Longevity Locks (honestly a strange thing to give him considering living longer then naturally given at birth is not really a good thing in the Loufu. There is also the fact we don't know his parents. As strange of a fact that he has it, maybe its hope that he doesn't die young.)

[reiverreturns]

a rough draft wip? on wednesday? groundbreaking.

said another way - we're fully on the mota train now girls buckle up

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 17)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I struggle to support myself on Derrick's shoulder as he walks. I was having a hard enough time balancing when he was sitting still, so trying to steady myself as he moves definitely isn't any easier.

As I hold onto my deskmate's shirt collar for dear life, I scan the horizon for any sign of that tree. Since I was always in Derrick's hands when he walked me home before, I was never able to see too much of the surrounding area. Now that I'm up here on his shoulder, I can see everything: stores, houses, cars, and of course nature. It's unreal seeing it all with my own eyes! But as I look around, I can't seem to spot that cherry tree.

Derrick wouldn't take a detour, would he? Since the apartment is so close to the school I highly doubt it, especially since he knows how in love I am with that cherry tree. But if we haven't taken a detour... why have we been walking for so long? I know I wasn't able to see much scenery before, but why don't I recognize anything at all?

"Here we are," Derrick says.

I gaze up at the blue house in front of us. This is not my apartment.

"Um," I start, "where are we?"

"What do you mean?" Derrick asks. "This is my house."

I nearly lose my footing when my legs threaten to buckle beneath me. He took me to his house?! For the party?! Why?! What happened to asking my dad first and helping him with... that thing?!

Panic sets in as my deskmate reaches for the front door. What should I do?! I can't stay here!

"W-wait!" I stammer, hoping to get Derrick's attention.

"Yes?" He asks, a note of confusion in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"I-I— um, I think there's been a misunderstanding!" I blurt out.

"A misunderstanding?"

"Y-yeah, I... didn't think we were coming here. I thought you were taking me home."

Derrick rubs the back of his neck. "Oh. When I asked you before we left, I thought you said you wanted to come over."

My heart sinks. "I-I don't remember," I utter, my core twisting and tightening at my current predicament.

"I'm sorry," Derrick says. "If you want me to, I can turn around and take you home."

"Are you sure? You wouldn't mind it?"

"If you're not ready for this, I don't want to push you," he says as his brows turn upward.

"Then could you—"

Before I can finish answering, the front door opens.

"What's the birthday boy doing standing around out here?" asks a woman with long, wavy brown hair and big green eyes.

"Oh, we were just— I mean, I was about to—" Derrick stammers.

"Well, don't just stand there," says the woman, smiling warmly. "Come in, come in!"

The woman grabs hold of one of my deskmate's hands and pulls him into the house. The unexpected movement causes me to stumble, but Derrick catches me in his free hand before I fall and holds me close to his neck. My heart pounds and pounds in my ears as heat radiates from my reddening cheeks. I thought we were close before, but this?! This is a little too close!

"Mom, I need to—" he starts. "Hey, what's this?"

When Derrick pulls his hand away from me, I scramble to regain my composure. Once I'm able to balance myself on his shoulder I look around the room and see it's decorated with balloons, streamers, and gifts. There's even a banner that reads 'Happy Birthday John And Derrick.' I blink, cocking my head to the side as I read the sign. Who's John? My eyes widen and my heart bangs against my ribcage. How many more people are coming to this party?!

"Don't go thinking I wouldn't decorate just because your brother's not here!" Derrick's mom exclaims.

I forgot Derrick has a twin brother who's away for university. As curious as I am to see how alike the two look, I'm relieved to have another perthean out of the picture.

"Right," Derrick says. "Anyway, Mom, I need to take—"

"What do you think?" His mom asks, clasping her hands together. "I know yellow is your favorite color, so I tried to use as much of it in the decorating as I could."

"Um, it's great! But really, I need—"

"What time are your friends coming over again?"

"5:30. Which is why I need to hurry and—"

"And who's this?" The woman says, leaning towards Derrick's shoulder with her eyes fixed on me.

A shiver runs down my spine as I struggle to think of something to say. "H-hello, m-m'am," I wave.

"This is Kaylin, my deskmate," Derrick says. "And I need to take her home."

"Home? But you just got here!" Derrick's mom says with a frown.

"Well, yes, but I was only... I mean, I just wanted to show her where we live. It was on the way," my deskmate lies.

"I see," the woman says with a smile. "Well, Kaylin, you're welcome to stay if you'd like! I'm sure your deskmate would enjoy your company on his special day."

Guilt builds up in my chest. What was I thinking letting Derrick walk me all the way back home? And on his birthday, no less! He should be using this time to prepare for his party, and here I am forcing him to deal with me. Should I really be treating him like this?

My heart sinks when Derrick turns to leave. This is my last chance. Can I really do this? Will I really be able to make it through this party?

"Hey," I whisper.

Derrick stops in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"It's... okay," I mumble. "I'll stay."

"You will?" Derrick says, his eyes wide and a smile spread across his face.

"Mhm," I hum, although something deep down inside of me still wonders if this is really a good idea. "I think it would be fun to... hang out with you. Outside of school, that is."

Derrick looks down, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "It means a lot to me that you'd say that. But Kaylin," he says, shifting his gaze back to me, "are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I... um," I think for a moment, unsure of what to say. Am I really ready? Do I think I'll be able to handle this? "Well, I don't know. But what I do know is that I want to be here."

"Okay," my deskmate says. "But only if you're sure."

"Don't worry. I'm sure." I say, although the doubts running through my mind don't make me feel sure at all.

What if Derrick misplaces me in such a big house? What if a ton of people are coming over and he forgets I'm even there? What if I get stuck somewhere? What if someone doesn't notice me on a table or counter and I'm knocked around or squashed?

Anxiety wells up in my core as Derrick turns around and closes the door behind him, sealing my fate.

"Oh?" Derrick's mom pipes up from in front of the kitchen sink, where she's begun to wash dishes. "Change your mind?"

I give a shaky nod from my place on Derrick's shoulder. "I-I thought I might as well stay, since I'm here and all."

"Wonderful!" The woman smiles. "Make yourself at home! If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."

"Th-thanks," I stutter.

Mrs. Drake's brows turn upward for a moment as she smiles. As she returns to washing the dishes, I can't help but wonder if she's caught on to my fear. I need to get a hold of myself! I can't keep stuttering like this! I don't want anyone to think I have anything against pertheans!

"Derrick, honey, don't you want to change into something more comfortable before your other friends come over?" My deskmate's mom asks.

Derrick looks at me with worry in his eyes before looking back to his mom. "I don't exactly want to leave Kaylin alone. Since she's already here, I mean."

"She won't be alone. I'll be right here the whole time," Mrs. Drake beams. "And besides, I'd love to get to know her!"

My gut twists into a knot within me as my arms and legs begin to shake. Left alone with Derrick's mom?! How in the world am I going to handle that?! I immediately start to regret my decision to stay at this party as Derrick raises an open palm to his shoulder for me to step onto. Taking a deep breath, I release my grip on the collar of his shirt and carefully inch towards his hand. I don't know how I'd ever live it down if I stumbled in front of another perthean!

My deskmate lowers his hand onto the kitchen table, and I somehow manage to step onto the hard surface without flailing around much. A hollowness suddenly overtakes my core like a punch to the gut as Derrick removes his hand, leaving me stranded where I stand. The table is much lower than the average balcony, and my head starts to spin as I crane my neck back to look up at my deskmate from the wooden surface.

Noticing my struggle, Derrick crouches down in front of the table. Now he's the one looking up at me, but his size is still so overwhelming to me. He's just so... big. His face nearly fills my entire field of vision! I back up a bit, clutching at my skirt as anxiety floods my nervous system. He's so close. We were close before when I was on his shoulder and when he held me to his neck, but... this is just different. And I'm not so sure I like it.

"Will you be okay?" Derrick whispers.

I let out a deep, trembling breath. "I-I will be. You can go."

When Derrick stands to his full height, I don't dare look up at him again. I keep my head down as my heart pounds and pounds in my chest, begging me to find someplace to hide. Once Derrick leaves, the sound of the running faucet is all that fills the room.

I spin around and see Mrs. Drake continuing to work on the dishes. If I'm lucky, she won't say anything, and I'll only be waiting a short while for Derrick to come back. I figure this is as good a time as any to let Dad know I won't be home for a while. I pull my phone out of my skirt pocket and slide over to my text conversation with him. I write what comes to mind.

Won't be home until later.

I pause. What am I supposed to tell him? Do I really tell him I'm at my deskmate's birthday party? That would be a huge win in his book. I can picture my dad now gloating about how he was right in sending me to Pacific. I shake the thought away and add to the the message.

A friend wanted to hang out.

I gulp, silently hoping he won't ask any further questions, and send the message. It takes a moment, but eventually I get a single thumbs up emoticon in response. I let out a sigh of relief.

"So..." Mrs. Drake says as she glances over her shoulder at me. "Kaylin, right?"

"Mhm," I nod.

"And you're new to Pacific?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She hums in response, returning her gaze to the dishes in the sink. "And... have you always lived in town?"

"Actually, I just moved here. I was born and raised in Maedri," I answer.

"Oh, Maedri!" Mrs. Drake says with a wavering tone. "I heard they have a bustling undercity there."

"Y-yes," I stammer, "it's pretty expansive compared to Chancelor."

A moment of silence passes us by. I watch quietly as Mrs. Drake sets various plates, bowls, and utensils on a rack to dry.

"It would be easy to live entirely underground without ever seeing a perthean then, wouldn't it?" She finally asks.

My heart sinks. What's she getting at? "O-oh, I guess so," I say.

She hums again. "And... might I ask what brought you to a school like Pacific?"

I swallow dryly as my legs quiver beneath me. What am I supposed to say to that?!

"U-uhm," I start, begging my voice to come out without any more stutters, "my dad wanted me to go to his old high school."

"Ah," the woman says. "And would you say you're... handling everything well?"

She has to be onto me. Why else would she be asking me all these questions?

I'm about to answer when I hear footsteps approach from behind. Finally.

"Sorry I took so long," Derrick says, emerging from the hallway. "Kevin and Brittney are on their way, I just got off the phone with them."

As I turn around, my eyes take in every aspect of my deskmate's attire. Jeans and sneakers, a striped yellow and white t-shirt, and a gray and yellow jacket. He's dressed so... casually! I stare down at my school uniform. I feel overdressed.

Derrick chuckles at the sight of me. "Sorry you didn't get to change," he says. "Do you want to take off your blazer?"

I think about his question for a moment. I tend to feel safer with more layers on, like I'm wearing some kind of armor to protect myself from danger. Although, I don't want to risk wearing my blazer to the party and getting it dirty somehow. And maybe it's just because I'm so nervous, but it does seem to be getting hot in here despite how much cooler it typically is above ground.

"Where should I put it?" I ask, removing my blazer and letting my arms breathe through my white button down shirt.

"May I see?" Derrick asks, approaching the table and placing his hand in front of me.

I reluctantly lay my blazer atop my deskmate's fingertips, and he pinches it between his thumb and index finger before lifting it high up to his eyes.

"Wow," he whispers.

My entire body is immediately overcome by a hot flash of some kind, and I begin to tremble where I stand beneath my looming deskmate.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that!" He stammers as his face reddens. "It's just that it... and you... I mean, it's just really tiny. Not that you're... that. I mean, I would never—"

"I-it's okay," I interrupt. "I know I'm... short."

Derrick seems to relax a little at my words. He sighs. "Anyway, there's a place for this right over here," he says, carrying my blazer to a coat rack beside the front door. He hangs it on a smaller arm that seems to be designed for human items. "There."

They have a spot for human items on their coat rack? I thought for sure nothing in this house would be fit for a human!

"You look confused," my deskmate states.

I straighten my head and unfurrow my brow. "I-it's just... I didn't think you'd have something like that here."

Derrick looks back to the coat rack. "You mean a coat rack? Doesn't everyone have one of these?"

"No, I mean that," I say, pointing to the smaller arms. "Why do you have a spot for human items on your coat rack?"

"For human guests! Why else would we have it?" Derrick asks.

My mouth hangs agape at my deskmate's words. I thought items like this were something I'd only ever see in the movies! I didn't think pertheans would actually include items in their homes for human guests! Come to think of it, I didn't think pertheans would entertain human guests often— yet here I am.

"You think this is special?" Derrick laughs as he approaches the kitchen table and pulls out a chair to sit down. "Wait until you see what else we have!"

My mind swells with wonder and curiosity at the idea of there being other human-friendly items in this house.

"Derrick, honey," Mrs. Drake says, pulling me from my thoughts. "What would you like for dinner tonight?"

My heart skips a beat at her words. How could I forget about dinner?! My body trembles at the thought of sharing dinner with— who knows how many people? No, how many pertheans?

"D-dinner?" My deskmate stutters, his eyes widening with surprise.

"Yes, dinner! You said this morning you'd have to think about what you wanted and that it depended on whether or not one of your friends was coming."

Derrick turns to look down at me, his face a bit pale. "Oh yeah, um... one girl has a few allergies, but... she isn't able to make it."

"So what did you decide on, then?" His mom asks.

"Um..." Derrick starts, his brows upturned and his eyes focused on my quaking frame. Suddenly, a smile appears on his face as he turns back to his mom. "You know, actually, we won't be hungry for dinner. We all had big lunches at school."

Mrs. Drake folds her arms, tilting her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at her son. "Do you really expect me to believe that? You know, the last time something like this happened—"

Derrick abruptly pushes his chair away from the table and stands from his seat. "Mom, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Mrs. Drake nods, letting out a sigh and following my deskmate down the hall.

What's going on? Why is Derrick trying to avoid having dinner so badly? Could this be about me? What does his mom mean by 'the last time something like this happened?' Is Derrick going to tell her about my fear?

Although I know it's rude to eavesdrop, I can't help but try to listen in on the two pertheans' conversation. All I'm able to make out is some harsh whispering, interrupted by the occasional 'why.' At one point I hear Derrick whisper, 'just give me some time!'

As the duo emerges from the hallway, I try my best to look like I wasn't just poking my nose where it didn't belong. I try to ease my tremors by rubbing my arms, but it doesn't help much as Derrick and his mom resume their previous positions in the kitchen. Derrick's mom flashes a polite smile at me, only to immediately turn away and resume drying and putting away dishes. What the heck happened back there?

Bing-bong!

"Oh!" Derrick says, standing up again and heading for the door. "That must be our other guests!"

I gulp and wipe my shaking, clammy hands on my skirt. The party's about to get started, and there's no turning back now.

[snowangeldotmp3]

don't touch that dial!

or;

the wandavision au

(ronance edition!)

Robin wakes up with Nancy Wheeler in her house. Her house. Not her parents. Hers. Nancy’s in the kitchen, in a dress and hair curled and pinned back in a way that Robin has never seen, already making a cup of tea (Robin hates coffee, but she doesn’t remember telling Nancy that…) and greets her with a, “Hi, Robbie,” and a quick kiss on the cheek. Robin freezes. Her stomach flip-flops and she feels her face warm and she’s not totally sure how to react without shattering whatever this is. So she answers with a weak, “Hi.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, something screams THIS ISN’T REAL. Duh. She gathered that already. But the problem is it’s not her voice in her skull telling her this. She doesn’t know who it is, or why they’re telling her information that she already knows. The biggest worry in her mind is that this isn’t her Nancy. Her Nancy, the real Nancy, would be fighting and kicking and screaming because this is not the life that Nancy wanted. Robin would know too, in-between their world saving adventures, Nancy told her what her future looked like, and being a ‘50s housewife was not one of them. Robin hates the ‘50s. She hates the way her hair is done and she hates the dress she’s been shoved into and she hates the canned laughter (seriously, can anyone else hear that?) and— “Robin?” “Yes, dear?” Robin answers without thinking, going along with whatever this illusion wants. Nancy’s frowns a moment, breaking the tight smile she had on her face, and briefly Robin wonders whether she’s aware of their current predicament, too. If Nancy’s aware like she is, and just simply playing along—just better at hiding it. It’s too risky though to outright ask her, so for now she’s just going to have to read her newspaper (that doesn’t have any articles written by Nancy—seriously?) and find a way to tune out that damned laugh track.

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[peiskos-and-apricity]

[Click For Better Quality]

"When you finally die, I don't want you to burn, or bleed, or break. I hope instead that the Earth forbids you from returning to her soil; that even the flies are repulsed by you. That you are cursed with the same form for all eternity, bound to the monster you are"

The sketch, if any of you were interested

[justworthlessreblogs]

do you have any more pikario or yukari (or both) headcanons maybe

i still have a few!

rio:

he's a very trusting person originally but after yukari lies to him in episode 16 that trait slowly disappears and he becomes a lot less gullible

ghost/cryptid disbeliever despite being a literal fucking fairy and living around magic all his life

this one is incredibly random but i was rewatching the avengers for the millionth time last night and it occurred to me that if he was into superhero movies he'd be a black widow fan. like i don't think he'd be into superhero movies all that much (his interests lie elsewhere) but if he was i think he'd connect with her backstory a lot. overall he tends to like characters that go through redemption arcs gee i wonder why. during his julio era he would've been the most insufferable loki stan

yukari:

is a prankster! nothing too big or anything that would hurt anyone but she does like messing with others. stuff like switching out the water with sprite. aoi catches her setting a prank up one day but instead of ratting her out asks to join her. they become an absolutely terrifying duo

also ghost denier. now i want an akiyuka buzzfeed unsolved au because i can hear them saying so many of those quotes

[keeps-ache]

1) i'm bad at games 2) i'm scared of people

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Shoutout to my siblings for putting up with my neurodivergent ass. Just now I remembered how multiple times I tried to convince them that we should roleplay a complex trading system between towns and/or nations. I wanted no plot, one dimensional characters, and all the focus on trade. It's a miracle they didn't tease me more lol

[kakusu-shipping]

I was the sadistic po3 ask and you are so right. I honestly hadn't thought about it for very long its the vibe he gives off initially but the more I think on it the more I realize hes the type to fall little by little and then all at once. The type to call you an idiot and give you advice in the same statement, to notice immediately when you change your hair style or a new shirt. The moment he realizes hes the type to do the oh. oh. oh no. Like thats his vibe. hes a dick but a loving one.

Okay FIRST OF ALL anon that post is almost two years old at this point so. Welcome back. I'm sorry I was so harsh to your Sadistic Yandere P03 concept.

SECOND P03 acts of service Tsundere type is so funny I love that for him. He will deny he did that for you, or if he accepts it he expects gratitude of the highest caliber.

This doesn't feel very Yandere to me though this is very base P03 affection to me. But that's because to me P03 is the least Yandere out of the Scrybes.. and I think that's why the polycule broke up before you arrived??

He was the object of their obsessions, and it was smothering and toxic and terrifying. He hated it, he was scared, he was cadged, he could never do anything on his own or go anywhere without checking in on someone. He never had his own space, never had control...

Yandere P03 would then push that cycle of abuse onto you, take control from you, not forcefully, but just a little bit at a time. Manipulate your space slowly so you have fewer and fewer options on where to go, like shortening a leash on a dog. It takes time. It takes routine.

This though, the acts of service and catering to your comfort, is Post Recovery P03. A P03 who's had time, a LOT of time, to himself, to his space, and found loneliness. He wants you to want to come back, because deep down he needs you, but doesn't want to admit that, because to him it's wrong to need someone. It hits too close to home, make him feel too much like the other scrybes.

He'll give you reasons to want to come back, and it'll remind him of how Grimora would always lend him things so he'd have reason to return. How she'd gift him everything he'd wanted so he'd come back, how she'd loose several matches in a row, and only win the one he'd said was his last game, so he'd stay and challenge her to a rematch

He'll follow on your heel as you wander around his factory because it's dangerous and maze like, and it'll remind him of the feeling of being followed, of being watched, by Magnificus everywhere he went. The suffocating feeling of never being anywhere alone, of eyes that saw his every possible future always on him. He'll deny his affections to you and remind himself of Magnificus doing the same when he'd stumbled into a room covered wall to wall in paintings of himself, in situations he knew Magnificus was not with him

He'll spend time tailoring his game to your play style, making sure cards you like are more plentiful, making sure the puzzles are engaging and challenging, and he'll remind himself of Leshy, the worst of them all, and that cabin full of intrigue. Of story and hard fights and difficult puzzles and nights of "Just one more round" turned three and four. When he floats just above you to feel superior he'll be reminded of the wall that use to be a door that he'd pressed himself against Leshy towered above him, a man who'd say one thing and feel another, who'd played the hero over and over in their games, and revealed himself the villain when P03 attempted to leave

He doesn't want to need you in the same way the other Scrybes had needed him