#Could be read as either platonic or romantic

[secretly-a-catamount]

Kinkajou was horrendously, unbelievably, and utterly bored. The small RainWing had many talents, but sitting still for hours and hours was clearly not one of them.

Her scales — patterned like a peacock, teal and ruby-pinks and sun-golds — had small flashes of red on her graceful wings. If Winter remembered correctly red was irritation, or maybe anger?

“Stop squirming.” He said exasperated, serrated claws wet with paint.

“Well, I’m sorry that you are taking forever.”

“This is taking forever because someone is squirming.”

Winter’s talons gently scraped against the goat-hide canvas.

A wide green swoop for Kinkajou’s neck. Little talon-pricks of dark blue.

An intricate necklace of flowers. Large, silvery-white ones that Winter vaguely remember saying he liked once.

In fact, now that he saw them up close they almost looked like—

“Icefrost Bells.” Winter blurted out, thanking the three moons that his scales wouldn’t betray his emotions.

“Are we playing a game where we say random word associations, because if we are: walrus, scarf.” Kinkajou said, as if that made remotely any sense, to anyone, ever.

“What? No! It’s just that Icefrost Bells is the name of the flowers.” He added at her quizzical look, “On your necklace.”

“Sorry, icicle-face—“

Icicle-face?

“But these are Lace Bells, not whatever it was that you said, and two: this is important because . . . ?”

Winter seriously wished could just melt into the cave floor. He muttered something incoherent.

“Come on, you can tell me. Is it some sort of IceWing courting ritual or something?” Came Kinkajou’s joking response, unknowingly hitting the nail on the head.

“Just amongst the lower Circles!” Winter cried, flaring his wings out in panic.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her body kaleidoscope-ing in colors Winter didn’t even have names for.

“Yes.”

“But we’re not—“

“I know.”

Kinkajou responded to this social etiquette dilemma by bursting out into rambunctious laughter. “This — is — amazing!”

“It most certainly is not.”

“Tamarin is going to love this!” She chortled.

Jumping up and bouncing over to Winter, Kinkajou grabbed his messy, paint-covered claws with her own and spun the pair of them around.

The dance was uncoordinated and awkward. And fun.

“All hail, Princess Winter.” Kinkajou giggled.

“You know perfectly well that I was a Prince.”

“And nephew of Queen Glacier.”

“Yes, and you . . . are making fun of me.”

“Yup.” She gave an outrageous twirl, whacking him in the snout with her wings.

“You’re doing the waltz wrong.”

“Then teach me how to do it right, Winter. I modeled for you, you teach me to dance.”

Winter sighed, “For starters, fold your wings against your body, like this.”

[giggly-squiggily]

Ooh, can I please have JJBA with Jotaro and Kakyoin? Prompt: 🧡Miss You: “When’s the last time you smiled?” The Ler and Lee role? Dealer's choice. Have fun with it

I can't wait to see what u come up with!

*vibrates so intensely on the spot I turn into a blur* Jotakak!!! This could be read either as that or platonic but AH! My boys!!! I've gotcha covered, friend!

Miss You- When's The Last Time You Smiled?

“Hey, Jojo? When’s the last time you smiled?” Kakyoin asked, leaning forward to get a better look at his stoney friend.

“Hm.” The other grunted in response, eyes still trained on the marine biology book he found at their most recent detour.

“Ah, so never I take it.” Kakyoin nodded, earning a proper glare from the other. Grinning, he held up his hands, standing up and waltzing over to the bed. “You know, whenever someone around me isn’t smiling, I feel the need to fix it. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t, you know?”

“Kakyoin.” His name carried so much warning. Sharp green eyes cut into him deeper than any emerald splash could. The threat was clear: Try it and you die.

“That’s my name.” The redhead smiled, throwing caution to the wind. He waited only a moment longer before he pounced, hands flying to-

The bed. He was on his back, the breath nearly knocked out of him with how fast Jotaro moved. “Whoa! Jojo- when’d you get so fast?”

“Picked it up on the trip.” Jotaro growled, nose to nose with him. Kakyoin wanted to kiss him.

Eh?

“Gah- you son of a-” Jotaro scrambled back from the surprise peck, cheeks warming. Kakyoin laughed, internally whooping in victory at making the bigger man blush. “Fuck it- come here you little shit!”

“Who are you- What are you- GAH!” Kakyoin all but squealed when his leg was grabbed, one hand squeezing his thigh while the other played his calf like a guitar. “Jhohooohohohohjohohoohohoho, dohohoohhon’t you dahhahahahhare!”

“You brought this on yourself.” Jotaro growled over his shoulder, starting to grin as Kakyoin thrashed like a fish, letting out his infamous dolphin cackle. “Pissing me off and then kissing me! I should throw you to the next stand we meet!”

“Wohohohoohohorth ihihihiihihit! I mahahhahade you smihihihihihle!” Kakyoin geered through his laughter, heart soaring upon witnessing the rare sight. Jotaro rolled his eyes, trying to push it down, but another squeal of laughter from the redhead brought it right back.

“Fine fine, you got me to smile. Now I’ll get you to scream.” Jotaro’s threat was nearly drowned out by Kakyoin’s cackles as he dug into the smaller man’s socked foot, earning a few kicks in the back from it.

Worth it.

~Send me a pairing and a candy heart phrase~

[candy-heart-brew]

"Gangle's too shy to speak up..."

The way they hold their heart here when talking about Gangle is SENDING ME!

[feroluce]

I have finally finished 2.4 and oh my GOD watching Dan Heng be so protective of his friends nearly killed me, MY HEART.

And yes, the cutscene where he pushes the trailblazer out of the way and even cushions their fall with his own body, but I mean even before that! When he was already trying to protect them and March 7th from Feixiao and Lingsha!!

Because if you watch the dango trio throughout the main quest, you'll notice that they often position themselves in the same way, which is a detail that makes me super happy that Hoyo thought to include- when the three of them aren't evenly spaced, March 7th and the trailblazer tend to gravitate towards each other and stand very close together, frequently side-by-side. And by comparison, Dan Heng usually stands slightly away, and often even slightly behind them, where he can pull on their leashes to wrangle them keep an eye on them.

This is probably a habit learned through experience, since March 7th said during Belobog she is the "queen of unannounced disappearances" fjdksajfkldjsak

And of course at least a little bit of it is just done for like, aesthetic purposes. It's a video game. Things have to look nice for the player. The trailblazer and Dan Heng are the same height, March 7th is a bit shorter, and Yanqing is even smaller. It makes sense to have the trailblazer and Dan Heng stand on the ends, with March 7th and Yanqing in the middle, it just looks nicer and more balanced that way. But still! Even when they're accommodating for Yanqing in this quest, they still all arrange themselves the same way, almost every time!

But this changes after Dan Heng and Yanqing become suspicious of the visitors from the Yaoqing.

The dango trio still stand around relaxed and in their usual manner when they go to the artisanship delve and meet Skott,

but Dan Heng takes notice of Lingsha when she arrives, and he and Yanqing mentioned her specifically when discussing their worries.

Yanqing worrying so much about Jing Yuan got me right in the heart, he's such a good boy WEH

And when the four of them go out to the alchemy delve to meet Lingsha for tea, the pattern breaks. Suddenly Dan Heng is standing right up front, and even walks in and enters the scene before March 7th and the trailblazer to get to Lingsha before them. He stays a step in front of them the whole time, too.

And then when Dan Heng and the trailblazer have to go be interrogated by Feixiao! The same deal! Dan Heng walks in ahead of them and stays in front of them! Noticeably so! Enough that even Feixiao takes note and voices it!

Dan Heng is so so fiercely protective of his companions, and I love it, I adore hyper vigilance in the wake of trauma like this, I'm so excited to see what else he does in 2.5, I hope we either get to see him get fucked up or the trailblazer gets fucked up in his place, I wanna see them run through the meat grinder!!!

[jerrythebug]

Green Lantern and Green Arrow fluff for DC for Gaza over on Twitter! The donations are closed already, but do come check out the amazing art everyone made for it!!!

[tunanoodlesoup]

couple more drawings under cut + yappage just so its less take up spacey haha

anyway on the topic of whiteboard and tv head heres more (im going insane) using I.V.Y's design for them because, they singlehandedly got me into painter and then i deadass forgor that the way they drew painter wasnt a canon design LAMOOO (i was literally jawdropped going through painter art 5s to see if i can find ivys tag on here and seeing that people in fact draw him differnetly bc,. its not canon HEKOFOOP ME i literally even SAW their post abt how they had 3 different headcanon ways to draw them and i ws like yeah thats cool i love art and then forgot immediantly) anyway im hungry and want cereal so idk someone holler if I.V.Y has a tumblr i can tag but either way also watch this animatic from them bc ive watched it religiously every single day and am now obsessed with the song too (this is a cry for help) also play pressure if you havent or if you have revisit it!! its goober

[tathrin]

An Elvish Lure

Somebody said “using yourself as bait” and my brain spat this disconnected snippet out, so: enjoy a scene in which the Three Hunters try an alternate plan by which to catch-up with the orcs and free Merry and Pippin.

"No," Gimli said.

"Gimli—"

"No," he said again, shaking his head hard enough to make the braids of his beard slap against his shoulders. "No, absolutely not."

"Gimli," Aragorn tried again, "this plan is our best chance to—"

"I said no!" Gimli roared. "I will not have it! Aragorn, I will not!"

It was not Aragorn who answered him. "Gimli, be calm." 

Gimli squeezed his eyes shut at that voice, as though he could shut-out the words as easily as he did the sight of the narrow, beardless lips from which they had issues; that golden head; those mithril-bright eyes. Fingers as long and spindly as bare twigs closed on his shoulder, their grip tight enough that he could feel it even through his shirt of mail.

"This is our best chance to save Merry and Pippin," Legolas said. "Perhaps our only chance. Gimli, I am not afraid—"

"Can I not be afraid for you, then?" Gimli asked wildly, grabbing those long fingers and holding them tight. He looked up at Legolas, then very quickly closed his eyes again. He pressed the archer's captured hand to his cheek and held it there, as though he might hold the elf back from this reckless plan as easily. "Orcs hate elves so much, Legolas…"

"That is why it has a chance of working," Legolas said. He sounded so unbearably calm, his woodland accent giving his speech the lilting cant of birdsong. He had sounded so strange to Gimli's ears, once. When had that fair voice stopped sounding strange?

"And if it does?" Gimli retorted. His grip on Legolas's hand tightened. "When it does? What then, Legolas?"

Legolas's narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Then we will fight them."

"Then you will fight them, all alone, until we can come to your aid," Gimli corrected him. "Legolas…" His voice failed him and he had to clear his throat twice before he could force the words out. "Legolas, what if we come too late?"

"It is a risk I am prepared to face," Legolas said simply. "And at any rate, Gimli, I do not believe you will. I have more faith in you and Aragorn both than to let myself fear that I will have to face all the orcs alone. And besides!" he continued with a sudden, fey laugh. "Should it not be the orcs who should fear to face my blade and bow? I slew many of their fellows at Amon Hen, and I will slay many more in these sweet green fields if they will but do me the favor of coming within range of my arrows!"

Gimli looked up at the laughing elf in sad, silent horror.

"We will not have to hide ourselves so far away from Legolas that he will be alone for long," Aragorn said, stepping forward to lay his hand on Gimli's other shoulder, the one that did not burn yet with the memory of Legolas's touch upon his mail. "Orcs are keen of smell, but their eyes are not so sharp in daylight, and their ears will have a hard time hearing anything over the thunder of their own feet upon these plains. Besides, Gimli, we have the cloaks given us by the Lady of Lórien; was it not said that they would help to hide us from unfriendly eyes?"

"It was," Gimli agreed heavily. "But these orcs are fast. And what if they have archers among them?"

"What of it?" Legolas shrugged again, scoffing. "I do not fear crude orcish arrows."

"A crude arrow can kill as readily as a finely-wrought one," Gimli reminded him.

Legolas tossed his head, his golden braids rippling in the dawn. "Only if they strike their target."

Gimli gaped at him in exasperation. "Legolas—"

"No, Gimli, I do not ask you to like this plan, but please. Are we not friends now?" Legolas dropped abruptly to his knees in the soft grass, a position which put his eyes nearly on the same level as the dwarf's. It was Legolas who looked up at him now, his pale eyes glittering as sharply as a sword. "Then please, my friend, cast aside your doubts. Trust me to do this."

"I do trust you, Legolas," Gimli responded automatically. "I do not doubt you. But—"

"Then it is settled." Legolas made to stand, to turn away, but Gimli caught him by the arm and held him still.

"But," Gimli said, his voice a stony growl, "I do not like the idea of you making yourself bait for orcs."

Legolas swiveled on his heels, elvish grace keeping him upright despite the sharp tug of a strong dwarven arm yanking him off balance, and stared up at Gimli. The smile he gave the dwarf was small and fleeting, and there was a heavy sadness in the curve of it that reminded Gimli, suddenly and painfully, of the grey woods of Lothlórien.

"I do not say that I like it either, Gimli," Legolas said softly. "But we cannot outrun the orcs. If they cannot be made to pause their march, they will vanish into Isengard with Merry and Pippin and all chance of saving our friends will be lost." He pressed his free hand to Gimli's cheek and gently stroked the downy hairs there. "I would risk a thousand such dangers for the chance to stop that foul fate from befalling those dear young Hobbits—and I know you would, too, Gimli."

Gimli swallowed, but the aching lump in his throat did not dissipate. "Legolas…"

"The fact that the orcs left the field of battle while the three of us yet lived worries my heart greatly," Aragorn said. His voice, too, was quiet, but a dark tension thrummed through his words like the warning rumble of stone on the brink of a cave-in. "That they put their need to carry away their captives over their desire for slaughter and torment…that worries me, Gimli. Worries me greatly."

Aragorn did not have the keen eyes of the elves, but his sharp grey gaze rose over the plains nonetheless and he stared off into the distance as though staring at the shadows of that terrible band of orcs nonetheless. "I do not know if even this will cause them to turn aside from their path…but if anything will entice them to delay their task, it will be the chance to make sport of a lone and injured elf."

"And so I shall play the bait," Legolas said, before he sprang to his feet, the movement too fast this time for Gimli to stop. He looked down and offered Gimli a fleeting, knifblade smile and declared, "And we Three Hunters will see if we can draw the hunt to us!"

Gimli should have cheered; the words were spoken in the sort of tone that rallied hearts and lifted spirits blazing into battle. But all Gimli could see in his mind was the terrible sight of Legolas left standing all alone, waiting for the orcs to come and find him while his friends hid and watched from safety.

"Legolas…"

"Peace." Elvish fingers pressed against Gimli's lips, stopping his words but not his fears. "Give me this chance, Gimli, and I will turn your doubts aside."

"I do not doubt you—" Gimli started to say again, his voice thick and strangled with the heavy feelings of his heart, but Legolas was already springing away, up the short and stony hillock. Gimli watched him go, his steps as light and swift as the flutter of butterfly wings.

"I do not doubt you, Legolas," he said, the words spoken now in a whisper so low that even elvish ears might struggle to hear them now. "But I fear for you."

Aragorn's hand closed on his shoulder again, warm and steady and lacking the silver-fire touch of Legolas's smooth brown skin. "Come," he said softly. "Let us get under cover, Gimli."

Gimli allowed himself to be drawn away, but his feet scuffed heavily on the uneven grass as he turned to stare behind him at the silhouette of Legolas standing tall and thin against the dawn, pale cloak and golden hair streaming out behind him. He made a fine target for arches up there, Gimli thought sourly; a fine target indeed.

Legolas drew his white knife, and Gimli turned away. He knew that the scent of elvish blood would be needed to draw the orcs' attention; knew further that only with the wind blowing strong and swift towards their quarry did this mad plan have any chance of success, and so he cursed the breeze. Had it only died or shifted, Aragorn and Legolas would have been forced to give up this chance; would have had no choice but to simply run instead, run until they dropped perhaps and even yet fail—but run together, rather than risking Legolas's life alone.

Gimli could not bear to watch Legolas take his blade to his own arm, spill his own blood, to lend verisimilitude to his role as bait; yet he fancied he could hear the sharp glide of knife over skin nonetheless, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight and let Aragorn lead him, stumbling, to the hollow in which they would hide together while Legolas stood out there, tempting danger, alone.

They huddled in their grey cloaks, hands on weapons and breath in their throats, and waited.

And then—and then Legolas screamed.

Gimli started upright, his own breath drawing in for an answering cry of rage and vengeance, but Aragorn grabbed his arms and held him fast. "No, Gimli!" he hissed, hauling the dwarf down bodily back into the small depression in the earth. "No, he is not hurt. This is the lure, Gimli! This is the plan. Be still!"

Gimli let himself be drawn back despite the thundering of his heart against his ribs. He pressed one bare palm against the earth, trying to draw strength from the touch of stone against his skin; trying to find the endurance for which the dwarves were so renowned. But he could not stop trembling; could not stop hearing the echoes of that terrible shrill scream inside his ears.

"I have never heard such a cry, Aragorn," he whispered.

Aragorn's grip on his arm tightened. "I have," he said. His voice was low, almost haunted in the shadows of their hiding-hole. "I am sure Legolas has as well, for his people have long fought the Shadow in Mirkwood—and," Aragorn added, swallowing hard as though against some terrible memory, "he could not have sounded so convincing, if he did not know the sound of an elf in torment."

Gimli's gut twisted and he bit his lip hard enough that he tasted a coppery spill of blood across his tongue. "I would that he did not know it," Gimli said hoarsely. He glared up at Aragorn and added in a sharp voice, "I would even more that he should never experience it himself."

"We are not far," Aragorn insisted. "If the orcs take the bait, we will know it; we are near enough to help. He will not stand alone."

"Not for long," Gimli muttered, "but perhaps for long enough." He held his axe very tightly and wished for a whole host of doughty dwarven warriors at his side—or better, at Legolas's side.

Another cry rose, more warbling than the first piercing shriek; more plaintive, like the screamer was weakening.

Gimli's grip on the haft of his axe tightened until his hand ached. "Aragorn…"

"He is not hurt, Gimli."

"Not yet."

Aragorn had no answer for that.

They sat in silence, straining their ears for the pounding thunder of orcish feet upon the earth; waiting to discover if the enemy would take the bait.

Waiting to learn if the three of them would live through it, if they did.

{read more gimleaf stories here}

[acoraxia]

i think megop works as a kismesis x moirail relationship that keeps going back and forth

moirails with orion, kimessitude with optimus prime - does this make sense to anyone

[yuffi369]

Co-DM

P03 x GN!Reader

In which P03 realizes that, for as much crap as he's talked about for you not appreciating his game design, you may actually know what you're talking about, sometimes.

Since you'd managed to keep a back-up of Inscryption's files after... everything, P03 had managed to worm his way onto your computer system's drive. At first, he acted a lot more maliciously; accessing permissions to just about everything, your webcam, your microphone, any files... he looked through just about everything, and began to make moves to even take over your computer entirely.

You were smart, though. You'd managed to get to where the backup copy of Inscryption and all of its files were, and upon threat of deletion, he cooperated. He agreed to only hang around your computer and not tamper with any of your files, or compromise your computer's integrity, but he still wanted to hang around. You didn't mind this for two reasons; one, it did seem rather cruel to keep him locked up in the files with nothing to do, and two, you didn't mind the company anyhow, seeing as most of your friends were over long distance.

One evening, you'd decided to get some work done on a campaign you were running for your friends. The game was in two weeks, so you had plenty of prep time, but there were some maps you had to make, encounters to plan, and you had to figure out some plot ahead of where they were going. The next session would be taken up in the first half by traveling, so it was mostly technical things like potential encounters, which was probably your least favorite part of game writing. You didn't hate any part, necessarily, but your strong suit lied in the story parts.

You were so lost in your struggling thoughts, staring at the VTT interface with a stumped expression, you almost forgot P03 was there. "Hey, idiot, you going to move the mouse, or are you going to let the computer screen fall asleep?"

You blinked rapidly, sitting up straight. "Huh?" You looked down at the tiny P03, who was staring at you as he stood on top of your task bar. "No, I was just thinking."

"What're you even doing, anyway?" he asked, looking at the grid on the screen.

"Writing encounters for my next game session," you replied, scrolling through another webpage you had open where you had access to stat blocks available to you.

"You write games?" he said, incredulously.

"Oh, right, I haven't had a session since you've come around and started living rent-free on my desktop."

"What do you want me to do for money, use your graphics card for crypto mining?"

"No," you replied, curtly.

"Anyway, given your criticisms about my game design, I didn't think you knew a thing about game design." He crossed his arm over his body, rolling his eyes.

"This isn't exactly a card game," you replied. "It's a tabletop roleplaying game. It's based on war gaming, with roleplaying added in. So it's a mixture of tactical gaming and story-based gaming. Not quite a card game like Inscryption."

"Interesting," he replied.

He continued to watch you work- or, well, the more accurate words would be struggle to work. You tried, several times, to put down tokens on the map, only to take them back off after a few minutes of deliberation. Sick of watching you struggle, P03 hovered up to your cursor, dragging it around to get your attention. "Hurry up. I'm sick of the ambient work music you've had in the background for the last hour."

"Sorry, P," you sighed, genuinely feeling a bit bad that he'd watched you do basically nothing this entire time. "I'm not exactly the best at planning encounters..."

"Lemme help, then. Pull up the webpage with the stat blocks."

"Fine. But aren't you programmed to write for Inscryption, not this?"

"I'm a fast learner." He scrolled through the webpage, looking through the stat blocks. After looking over a few stat blocks, he pulled up a stat block for an undead creature, that had an interesting mechanic. "Here. This should keep your players from falling asleep."

You took one look at the stat block and shook your head. "No. I can't use that."

He looked at you with exasperation. "Well why the f#%& not?" he said, the little beep censoring his cursing through the speakers.

"Those are undead creatures," you explained, using your cursor to point at the stat block's creature type. "They're just traveling through grasslands. I can't justify a random group of these just showing up out of the blue."

"I dunno what to tell you. This stat block's probably your best bet for an interesting mechanic that's low-level enough to not kill your players. Maybe have them, I dunno, take a shortcut through a graveyard, or whatever."

"Shortcut through a graveyard..." you repeated, under your breath. After a brief moment, you bolted upright in your seat, pulling up your document and beginning to write at an accelerated pace. P03 probably clocked you at about 90 WPM at your fastest. Once you were satisfied with the narrative text you'd written out for yourself to read upon arrival to the location, you pulled up the VTT and began placing things all around the map, taking your time to make sure things were placed in logical, good-looking locations, making sure to add terrain in places for your rogue to hide behind and take advantage of. Finally, you put the group of undead creatures on the hidden layer to pull up later, and then typed out what loot was to be found in the graveyard as well as on the bodies of the creatures.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you leaned back in your chair, gazing upon the zoomed-out map with pride. "Wow," P03 let out a whistle-like beep, looking at the map with you. "Once you got started, that only took, what? An hour? I would've been able to make the fight really easy, but all that other stuff probably would've taken me the better part of an afternoon."

"Well, I mean, it does take me a while to write something good. But when inspiration hits, I sort of just... go, and don't stop. But I don't have those moments often, or at least not enough for my liking."

P03 turned and glared at you. "Take the damn compliment."

You laughed. "Alright, alright, geez. Thank you."

"Now, let's celebrate with a movie." He pulled up a window with a video player, ready to play the file.

You raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get that?"

"Downloaded it off yarhar.net while you were writing."

"P!"

"What? I scanned it for viruses, it's clean. What do you want me to do, pay for Netflix? With what money?"

You just laughed, shaking your head. "Let me go make some popcorn."

"And I'll... pull up a jpeg of popcorn, I guess."

[nemmet]

💌 - freddie w/daphne

hello and welcome to my dyed hair freddie agenda

emoji + character ask game

[moog-enthusiast]

photobomb offers a combination of many wonderful tropes that i enjoy. it combines childhood friends to lovers and enemies to lovers, (though enemies is used very loosely, keep in mind). they were each others first friends, and then first enemies, and in my mind at least- first to reconcile with one another. they’re both lonely people who care deeply about their relationships, and both particularly insecure in them despite having different outlooks- with aubrey being more angry outwardly, and basils meek anxious running away.

aubrey loved cutesy cheerful things growing up, and likely still does as a teen, even if she tries to cover it up! basil likes to share his interest with others, and aubrey likes the attention and the help, and it bounces off of each other.

Basils “softness” can help Aubrey feel safe enough to let her own softness and emotion deep through too. Aubrey’s tough outlook on the other hand, is beneficial to basil as well, being that she could be an excellent help to getting basil to stand up for himself and get a little more confidence to say no and stand off.

they also have matching color-schemes which is just very cute to me…

even in headspace it’s obvious how much they cared for each other. in realworld too, basil was the first person aubrey looked for after the incident. basil was her comfort person, and she wanted him to be the first to join her again. if it weren’t for the miscommunications and basils savior complex surrounding sunny, then i have no doubt they’d be leaning on each other throughout those four years!

when things get rough, the bullying isn’t truly from aubrey herself either. she still cares about basil, and while she does wrongly act as a bystander, she never approaches basil, and tries to leave him alone via distancing herself. basil broke that distance to try and talk to her again out of his own desperation, only to be met by the pushback of the hooligans, trying to get him away from aubrey knowing she was pissed at him.

after the lake incident—(which was an accident) — she immediately feels guilty for acting on a whim, and feels even worse in neutral endings!

tl;dr —> they lov each other

[fluffypotatey]

Shadowpeach's reaction to believing the other is dating again

ANON I AM SO SORRY T^T i meant to reply to this the moment I read it then got distracted and now it’s almost 1am (edit: it is now 1:30 lmao)

anyway,

you have come to ask me, a girlie who is a sucker for unhealthy shadowpeach and long time lover of the jealousy & possessive tropes, about shadowpeach’s hypothetical reactions of the two monkeys believing the other is back in the dating scene?

well, obviously, they would be completely fine. absolutely no negative reactions or breakdowns or obsessive thoughts hindering their ability to function and be mentally healthy. of course.

jk i lied: THEY WOULD BE SO HORRIBLE LMAO

however, i feel like swk would be more subtle about it. like maybe he hears something out of context said by MK or Mei or Tang or Red Son or Sandy (who might have also jumped to the same conclusion) and is like “oh……” and then is oddly quiet for maybe a month, freaking out MK

also, SWK would have his own internal battle of wanting to see Macky to confirm but also not wanting to see Macackle because the confirmation would break him. but he would make so many excuses to see Macaroon by visiting Pigsy’s noodle shop then chicken out when the time does come (the funny part of me says that Pigsy is the only one aware of SWK’s true intentions and is very annoyed about it)

the anger doesn’t really come until SWK feels fed up with Macaroni’s “mixed signals,” meaning Macky’s very bad attempts at being civil/flirting. because “if Macky thinks he can just use my feelings while being in a relationship he can think again!” (despite Macky never being in a relationship but Wukong never confirmed this so is mad for the sake of this hypothetical SO and himself while struggling with his own very messy feelings. because he likes it when Mac has his attention on him, he likes it when Mac tries to woo him the same way he had tried when they were younger and ignorant, he likes it when Mac cannot help but look at Wukong, he likes it when he makes Mac forget all about that stupid significant other because Wukong and Mac used to be something and could still be that something if Mac just gave Wukong a chance or if they had never ended their old relationship like the way they did. if only, if only, if only, if only, if only—

with Macky, ahahahaaaaaaa hoo boy.

not subtle. very unsubtle. like, yes, even Wukong can see and notice Macky’s very unsubtle and unstable self but unlike everybody else who is aware of the reason, Wukong would just be confused on why Macky is always weirdly snappy and grabby and always feel the need to mention Wukong’s love life????

anyway, Macky would not react well. 1) because it feeds into his angry theory that Wukong found their relationship to be superficial and temporary 2) he has been revived for, uh, *checks watch* not very long, so imagine going through a severe break up and dying them being resurrected and trying to enact revenge on your ex (of whom the feelings are still too raw) but you’ve been out of time for so long that you cannot process shit 3) it is my belief that Macky had nobody else as close to him as Wukong was

so, Macky hearing through the very botched grapevine that Wukong is back in the dating scene? man’s is not handling it well. house/apartment/whatever establishment he was staying in is trashed. he replans his revenge against Wukong. he stalks Wukong obsessively bc he has to see that bastard in the act because maybe then he’ll be free. he would sabotage any and all attempts of demons, humans, whoever that whispers about pursuing Wukong because….reasons

(obviously the reasons are not the fact that Wukong moving on terrifies him, the fact that he can be so easily replaced hurts, the fact that he cannot let go despite everything, the fact that Wukong still smiles the same, that Wukong still laughs the same but it’s so much lighter, that he understood what it was like to be loved and cared about by Wukong. to have all of his attention on Macky, to hold him so gently even though these same hands could break him (and have), to be treasured and desired by someone so powerful. how could Mackarell give up something so precious? he is still selfish and has been deprived for f that love for too long. why on earth would he ever wish for someone else to have a piece of what he once had?)

so yeah i’d say they would be coping sO well :)

[flashhwing]

there are some fictional codependencies that I believe would benefit from a romantic reading and some that I think a romantic reading would detract and some that I’m like yeah sure it could be romantic or platonic both interpretations are equally as good

[dailyhatchetfield]

day 89 - light up

[nexttrickanvils]

Two weeks after the Revolution, Zuke notices May's been acting off. Worried about his best friend, the two have a talk.

So... I had some thoughts about how Zuke and May would feel about a certain character and how he used them and I wrote a fic.

[giggly-squiggily]

Signed With Love (Blue Lock)

(This isn't results of the Poll- I'm working on that one this weekend aerjaejkjaer)

Heyo everyone! :D So I was talking to a dear friend of mine (You know who you are- hi bestie :3) and we got to talking about Chigiri and his ticklish knees! He's such a shy sweetheart that deserves the world, and thus this fic was written! Thank you so much friend for being such a big part of this fic and inspiring me with your adorable headcanons! :D

Summary: Bachira learns of Chigiri's knee injury and decides to investigate. While he's at it- he learns something rather interesting about Team Z's princess.

“Hey, how’d you hurt your knee?” Bachira asked as he plopped down before Chigiri; starting the redhead out of his thoughts.

“How did you..” Did Isagi tell him?

“The monster told me. He sees all.” Bachira poked one of them, smiling when the other boy shifted. “It watches you, you know? It sees you guarding your knee or rubbing it when it aches.”

“Does it now?” Chigiri subconsciously went to guard said limb, stopping himself halfway. Bachira followed the hand to his right knee, leaning in so his nose nearly touched it. “Ah, this is the problem limb. So…” He peeked up, raising his brows.

“I tore my ACL a year ago. Since then, I’ve been too scared to run on it.” Chigiri pulled it closer to him, looking at it with mixed emotion. “At least- until recently.”

One person was all it took. Isagi’s relentless faith in him still rang through his head, pushing him to finally break the chains holding him back. He felt himself smile at the memory.

“Ah yeah! You’re pretty fast too!” Bachira nodded, eyes still on Chigiri’s knee. “So where’s the ACL? Is it right…here?” He reached out to lightly trace the top of the limb, going straight down the middle.

“Mmph! Y-Yes.” Chigiri huffed, shivering at the feeling. Bachira, ever the observant one, peeked up at him with curious eyes. Without any verbal warning, he did it again.

“B-Bachira!” He squeaked, eyes widening as he slapped a hand over his mouth. Bachira Beamed.

“Oh? What was that?” He cooed, adding a second finger to the party. Chigiri twitched at the feeling, shrinking into himself as he covered his smiling face with his hands. “Was that a squeak or a giggle?”

“It wa-hasn’t anyth-hing!” He glared over his fingers, squirming when Bachira rested his entire hand against his knee. “D-Don’t!”

“Why? If it was nothing, you wouldn’t care if I did this, right?” Bachira slowly pulled his hand upward like a jellyfish rising in water. This earned him another squeak, the giggle clear as day in this one. “Oh ho ho! So you’re ticklish!”

“N-No, no I’m n-not!” Chigiri reached out, grabbing Bachira’s wrist. “I’m not.”

A brow was raised. Chigiri felt his face warm.

“Okay…maybe I am.” He ducked his head, hiding in his hair. Bachira snorted.

“Too cute…” The dribbler looked around the room, patting Chigiri’s knee as he stood. “Wait here.” Seconds later, he was gone, running across the room towards Kuon and Gagamaru.

Maybe he should slip away? It wasn’t the first time Chigiri did it. The perks of being the quiet one. Still, something kept his butt planted in his spot. Before he could reflect on it, Bachira was back, a black marker in hand.

“Hey hey- you stayed!” Bachira sounded pleased, popping off the cap. “Give me your leg!”

“Why?” Chigiri pulled it closer in suspicion, eyes narrowing.

“I wanna sign it! You know when someone breaks a bone or gets a cast? Everyone signs it and puts something nice! I wanna do that for you!” Bachira gestured to the limb, eyes dancing. “Come on, I promise I won’t draw a dick!”

“I’m not wearing a cast.” Chigiri pointedly ignored that last part. “There’s nothing to sign.”

“I can sign your pants.” Bachira tugged on the fabric in question, rolling it in his fingers. “It’ll work. Come on, I missed my opportunity when you had one! Everyone else got to sign it but me!”

“What are you- we didn’t meet until Blue Lock!” Chigiri couldn’t help but laugh, letting out a huff of stupefied mirth. “No one signed my brace- it was black; you wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.”

“That’s depressing.” Bachira deadpanned. “Let’s fix that!”

“Bachira…” Chigiri tugged at the ends of his hair in thought. The material of the pants was fairly thick, he probably wouldn’t feel it. And given how eager Bachira looked, he doubted telling him no was an option. Giving in, he nodded. “Fine. Just..don’t draw a dick.”

“Got it!” Bachira cheered, scooting closer so he was hovering over his knee. “What to draw, what to draw…Oh! Let’s start with this!” He reached down, tugging the leg of Chigiri’s pants flat before placing the marker at the tip of his knee. “Don’t move.”

Turns out, the pants material did nothing to protect him.

“Ehehe! B-Bachiihira!” Chigiri all but jumped out of his skin when the marker started moving. Waves of sensitivity shot up his leg, forcing breathy giggles up his throat. “Hohohld on, it tihihihkcles!”

“I know, we’ve established that.” Bachira winked at him, grinning like a goon as he continued drawing what felt like a smiley face. “This marker sucks! How come Kuon only ever uses dying ones? I bet he huffs them when everyone’s asleep- that’s why they’re so dry.” He went over the eyes of his little face a few times, earning a string of squeaks from the redhead. “You squeak alot, huh? You’re like a little mouse.”

“D-Dohohon’t call mehehee thahahaht! Ahehahahaha!” Face on fire, Chigiri covered his face with his hands, doubling over into the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he Bachira continued detailing his design, adding little cheeks to the smile and deepening the outline. “Iiihihihihis it dohohohne? Ahehahaha, Plehahahhase tehheehll me it’s dhooohohne!”

“Not yet, Miss Impatient! I need to sign it!” Bachira snickered, shaking the marker beside him to get more ink. “Let’s see, should I use my full name, or just my last name? Oh- should I include my Monster’s name too? It gets pretty sad if I don’t.”

“Whahahat’s the moohohnster’s name? Chigiri peaked over his fingers.

“Maleficent Oliver Notorious Salvador Techrise Exorciser Rondha the Fifth.” Bachira smiled, laughing hysterically at Chigiri’s wide eyed shock. “I’m kidding! Its name is George. Back to the signing!”

“Wait, noohohohoohoho! Bahahhahhachira!” Chigiri squeaked in laughter when the other boy attacked his knee again, drawing out the letters of his name one thick letter at a time. “Dohoohohohon’t puhuhhhuuhut yoohohohur fuhuuhuhull naahhahahahme!”

“Relax, Chi, I’m just putting ‘Bachira’. With these small knees?” He wiggled his fingers against Chigiri’s leg, making him jump. “I can barely fit my name as is. Okay, B…A….C…or was it an H…?”

“Ahehahahaha! B-Bahahahchira!” Soft hiccups mixed with Chigiri’s giggle fits, resembling the squeaks he was making- just softer and higher pitched. “Juhuhuhuhust ihihihinihihiitial!”

“But I already wrote half my name! Hang on- I’m almost done.” Bachira colored the last ‘A’ In his name, snorting when Chigiri grabbed his wrist. “Hehe, too much?”

“Juhuuhst…juhuhuhust a sehehehecond.” Chigiri rested his forehead against his legs, gasping for breath. His entire body felt tingly- even if it was only his knee getting tickled. Looking up, he met Bachira’s smiling face with a tired smile. “Hohoohw…how muhuhuch do you hahahve left?”

“Just one more detail. No looking though!” Bachira covered his work with a hand. “Sit back- I’ll be done in just a moment.”

Chigiri eyed him suspiciously before doing just that, already giggling when Bachira pressed his marker down. “Ahehaha! Juhuuhust fihiihhinihsh alhhehheady.”

“Aaaaand, done!” Bachira tapped the newest creation with the marker, capping it closed. “Tada! Take a look!”

Chigiri groaned, exhausted from the entire event. Slowly, he stretched out his leg, taking in Bachira’s work.

Sure enough, there was a smiley face, big eyed with an equally massive smile and cheeks. He even had little eyebrows. Below that was Bachria’s name, the ‘I’ dotted with a misshapen heart. The ink was fading in and out- some parts near invisible compared to others, and when he tugged his pant leg up further to get a better look, it stretched some.

A bit of a mess for a signature, but a sweet gesture all the same.

“Do you like it? Huh?” Bachira asked, bouncing on his knees. Chigiri stared at it for some time before he turned to the other, a shy smile on his lips.

“I love it. Thank you.”

~~~

“Making shorts? Isn’t it still winter?” Kunigami asked some time later when he found Chigiri carefully cutting around the knee of his pant leg. “Huh- they let you do that here?”

“I got the okay from Ego. He gave me new pants.” Chigiri reassured him as he finished the last cut, gathering up the freshly cut cloth band, Bachira’s art piece centered in the middle. “Besides- it’s worth it.”

He wore that little leg band at every game since.

Thanks for reading!