#Good for the brain even if I like everything else I’ve been drawing too!

[justabeewithapen]

I’ve had @toonsforkicks22’s poncho designs for Doey on my mind since they posted it and finally FINALLY I sat down and doodled it. I LOVE PONCHOS!!! \o/

[togrowoldinv]

Secret Santa

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets your name for Secret Santa, she tries to think of the perfect gift for you

Note: I’m back! Well, technically I never left but I’ve been up to my ears in studying for the cpa exam. I took what was hopefully my last exam today, and let Natasha come back into my brain lol. Enjoy this holiday fluff!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Okay, on to the topic of the Christmas party. What if do Secret Santa names this year?” Tony suggests.

“What does that entail?” Steve asks what everyone else is thinking.

“Well, we’d all write down a few things we like. It gives the person who gets your name an idea of what you want,” Tony explains.

“I like it,” Steve agrees. “What does everyone think?”

A chorus of sures and okays follow.

“Y/n, can you take care of it?” Steve asks.

You agree easily. You’ve always loved the holidays so the idea of helping the Avengers have a good one is exciting. Especially since it’s your first year with the team.

You get everyone’s names on notecards and spend the rest of the day getting everyone to fill them out with gift ideas. Wanda helps you collect them from the team before the next team meeting the next morning.

“Okay, everyone I have all of the names here. Draw one and whatever you get is what you have. No switching allowed,” you tell the team, mainly Tony.

You eyeball him as you say it and he at least pretends to look offended before he grins.

When you get to Natasha, you smile at her shyly.

“What if I get my own name?” She asks with a smirk.

She reaches into the bowl of names before you can answer. Her expression is unreadable as she looks at the card.

“Good?” You ask.

“It’s good,” Natasha replies.

You move on and keep going until everyone’s been picked. You got Wanda, which should be super easy.

On the other hand, Natasha got you. She thinks about it for a few days before deciding that she doesn’t want to get you anything on your list. She decides to go to your best friend on the team for advice.

“You got a second?” Natasha asks, knocking on Wanda’s open doorframe.

“Oh,” the girl is caught off guard. She doesn’t spend much time talking to Nat aside from about missions. “Sure.”

Natasha walks in and closes the door behind her. She sits down at Wanda’s desk across from where the girl sits on her bed.

“Is everything okay?” Wanda asks.

Natasha doesn’t immediately assure her it is and she gets worried. “So, I got y/n for secret santa.”

Wanda’s tenseness goes away and she can’t help a little smirk forming as Nat is talking.

“And I know she has things on this list,” she says. “But I don’t think a single one of these things is good enough for her. I don’t know what I should get for her, but she deserves the best gift.”

“Natasha,” Wanda interjects. “You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“Oh,” Nat expresses. “She- well she loves Christmas, right? I saw how excited she’s been about the tree and then the secret Santa and the movies. All of it. I want it to be special for her.”

“That’s really sweet,” Wanda says. “You like her, huh.”

“Can you help me?” Natasha keeps the focus on the conversation at hand. She does like you though.

“Of course. Anything for y/n.”

“Thank you,” Natasha says, feeling the relief set in.

The two brainstorm ideas for a couple of hours. When Wanda shows late for your usual nightly dinner, she wears a grin.

“What?” You ask her. “Fun with Vision?”

Wanda chuckles and you share a laugh with her.

“Who’d you get for Secret Santa?” You ask her.

“I can’t tell you,” she says.

“Sure you can.”

“Who’d you get?” She counters.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Sure you can,” she mocks you.

The rest of the days leading up to Christmas go by fast. Unfortunately everyone had to go on a mission on Christmas Eve, so you’re all exhausted on Christmas Day morning.

Tony postponed the gift exchange until later in the day, and everyone is much more rested by then.

Even with the hustle and bustle, you notice Natasha hasn’t made it to the get together yet.

“Hey Clint, where’s Nat?” You ask the archer. He was working closely with her on the mission.

“I think she just needed to take some time alone.”

“Oh, okay.”

You go about the party for a few more minutes before deciding to go check on Natasha.

You go to her room and knock on the door. She takes a minute to answer, but finally the door opens to reveal a distressed Natasha.

Her hair is messy and she’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t seen her this way before.

“Hey,” you say. “We missed you down there.”

“Sorry,” she says. “Uh, come in.”

Her room is clean and exactly like you expected it. There are a few photos of Natasha and Clint’s family on a dresser, but that’s really the extent of the decor.

“Are you okay?” You ask her.

“Yeah, just a bad mission.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Nat says. “It’s a me problem.”

“Hey, we’re teammates. And- we’re friends. It’s an us problem.”

Natasha can’t help but smile a little at that. You make her feel better by just being here.

“I don’t think I’m in the party mood. The guys aren’t so sensitive to my feelings.”

“Hey, that’s alright. I’ll just take your gift if you want me to. I’ll make sure it gets to the right person,” you explain.

“Oh, actually I had you. And I didn’t get a gift off of your list.”

Your eyes go wide. You didn’t even consider that Nat would get you. Thinking back to your list, you hope she didn’t find anything you wrote down as lame.

“Not because they were bad ideas. It’s just- I wanted to do something more meaningful,” she reads your mind.

Natasha crosses the room and grabs a box out of her closet. It’s wrapped nicely.

“You wrapped that?” You ask.

“You seem surprised,” Nat jokes. “I have skills.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” you say before blushing a bit. She smirks.

She hands you the box and you sit down on the edge of her bed together to open it. Nat watches you shyly as you open the gift.

“Natasha,” you whisper as you reveal the gift.

It’s a beautiful locket necklace.

“Open it,” she says.

On the inside of the locket, there’s a photo of your family. Your favorite photo to be exact.

“How did you-“

“Wanda helped,” Nat says. “I know you’ve been missing home since you joined the Avengers. I thought you’d want to have a piece of them with you on missions.”

“Natasha, that’s- well that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, fighting back tears.

“You like it then?”

“I love it. Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Will you put it on me?”

Nat nods and takes the necklace from your hands. She unclasps it and stands behind you to put it around your neck. Her hands are gentle as she clasps the necklace and brushes against your skin.

“Beautiful,” she says when you stand and face her.

“You are, yeah,” you surprise her by saying. You dare to reach out for her hand. She takes it easily and interlocks your fingers. “I wish I got you something.”

“Oh, I think you just gave me the best gift,” Natasha says.

“I did?”

“Mhm,” she confirms. “Come here.”

Natasha leans in, pulling you closer to her with the hand that’s free by the back of your neck. Her gentle hand from before has a bit more urgency.

You can’t help but smile as she kisses your lips. Finally, both of you think. Finally.

“Merry Christmas, y/n,” Natasha says when she breaks for air.

“Merry Christmas, Natasha.”

It doesn’t take long before you add a photo of Natasha to the other side of your locket. She’s with you always. Right beside your heart.

[sentientgolfball]

Lessons

I did it. I wrote the damn Swiss/Phantom/Reader that's been rattling in my brain.

18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3051

Tags: degradation, choking, Swiss is a bit of a voyeur, rough Phantom if you squint, irresponsible use of quintessence

Summary: Phantom admits he's never been with a human. You and Swiss share a look before deciding that's about to change.

“Look at just how fucking wet they are.” 

“You sure you didn’t bring me a water ghoul?” 

Phantom laughed to himself before sliding his fingers between your legs gathering as much slick as he could. You whine when he draws his hand away much too soon. He stares in awe at his fingers, his thought process clear as day on his face. Swiss pushes him lightly with his foot

“Not yet ant. You still don’t know just how delicate humans are.” 

You huff a laugh “I’ll show you delicate when I stick my foot up your fuck—“ You were cut off by the tip of Swiss’ tail snaking around to brush lightly over your swollen clit. 

“First lesson: humans are so sensitive. It only takes a few touches to get ‘em going” he demonstrates this by letting go of one of your wrists and sliding a finger into your cunt “But it’s a double-edged sword. They’re so easy to overstimulate. Gotta take your time.” He draws his hand back, wiping the slick onto your thigh. 

The way he was talking about you like you weren’t even there like you’re nothing more than a tool to teach Phantom how to fuck was only making the pool of slick between your legs worse. 

He was right though. Everything felt so hazy. How long has it been? You remember a sloppy make-out session with Phantom as Swiss critiqued while palming himself in the corner. That was a while ago. You may not remember how long the three of you have been at it, but you do remember how you got there. 

You snuck into the ghoul den after your shift in the kitchen had ended with an armful of sugary contraband. Siblings weren’t typically allowed in the dens unless personally brought into them, but your job got you a free ticket. It all started when you caught Swiss and Dew trying to break into the kitchens in the middle of the night. After some negotiations including a decent amount of tongue, you settled on a simple deal. You bring them as many pastries as you can carry and they’ll fuck your brains out. 

When you had gotten to the den it appeared Swiss was the only one present, so you flopped onto the couch and shared the cakes with him. When you had finished your fill, Swiss had pulled you into his lap mumbling something about needing something sweeter before he licked a stripe from your neck to your jawline. That’s when Phantom walked in. When you noticed him you quickly jumped out of Swiss’ grasp much to his chagrin. 

“Do you want some?” Swiss had asked the quintessence ghoul assuming he had been drawn out of his room by the sweet smells of baked goods. This caused him to go rigid with a small blush creeping into his face “I’ve never been with a human…” 

You were about ready to clear up the misunderstanding when you caught Swiss’ eyes. You recognized that look and you immediately knew he was going to dig his heels into this. His gaze flicked to you for a moment seeking your permission before he opened his mouth. Fuck it. Your growing grin was all he needed. You and Swiss made a show out of groping and kissing each other for the other ghoul who just stared on slack-jawed shifting himself around in his pants. You three only left for Swiss’ room when Dew and Rain came through the main door 

“Oh come on we’ve only had this couch for like a week.” Rain huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Go fuck somewhere else so we can eat in peace or I’ll up your tax.” Dew stuffed a brownie into his mouth not even looking up from the horde of sweets. 

That’s how you ended up where you are now. Pressed firm against Swiss’ chest, wrists squeezed between his clawed hands, tail wrapped around one leg to keep you open while Phantom sits crouched in front of you eyes wild, dick painfully erect, shaking with anticipation. He looks up at Swiss with pleading eyes 

“Can I taste them? Please?” 

“Hands-on learning, I like it. Go right ahead.” 

Phantom’s eyes sparked and he dove between your spread legs eagerly licking into you. You cried out and arched against Swiss as he pushed impossibly deeper, swiping his forked tongue from your clit to your slit. He was lapping at you in earnest, filling the room with obscene wet noises. Swiss hissed and bumped Phantom’s head with his knee to get his attention. His head popped up with wide, blown-out pupils and a wet chin. He looked at Swiss with a furrowed brow and a whine deep in his throat. 

“What did I say? It’s not like one of the girls. It’s a human.” 

Phantom nodded and lowered himself again slowly circling his tongue around your clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking. You gasp and push your hips closer to him to the best of your ability. Swiss chuffs a laugh and wraps an arm tight around your midsection forcing you to keep still. 

“See what I mean? Humans are so easy” he brings his lips to your ear pressing a kiss to it “Come on be a good little pet for him. All you have to do is lay there and take it.” 

You threw your head onto his shoulder with a moan feeling Phantom’s tongue drag over your hole before carefully pushing in. Part of you wanted to kill Swiss for the little game he was playing, convincing Phantom to go so painfully slow that it had you shaking. The other part of you was too drunk on being brought to the edge and let down over and over again to stop him. 

“Tastes fucking amazing.” He pulls back slightly to look up at Swiss for approval 

“If you think that’s good, wait for lesson two.”

Phantom looked at him grinning wildly urging him to continue. His tail was beating against the side of the bed rhythmically. 

Swiss smiles “Glamour your claws” Phantom does so immediately waiting for more “You’ve been with Cirrus you know what to do from here. Just take it slow, you don’t wanna break em.” 

You have half a mind to curse Swiss but the thought quickly dies when you feel Phantom slide a finger inside of you “shit Phantom if you’re gonna touch me then touch me.” You try to cant your hips chasing any friction but Swiss holds you firmly in place. 

“Filthy.” He laughs before removing his finger. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps his tongue around his fingers groaning when he tastes you. He then all at once shoves two of his fingers into you. You cry out trying to snap your thighs shut but Swiss’ tail holds strong. 

He tuts “How many times am I gonna have to tell you to go slow.”

Phantom's laugh sends a shiver through you “Aw come on I think they can handle something a little more.” 

Swiss growls in warning. Phantom rolls his eyes but compiles, leisurely curling his fingers inside you. He applies pressure to your clit with the pad of his thumb as he drags his fingers against your walls searching for the sweet spot. You bite your lip to stifle the groans threatening to spill, but that quickly changes when he dips his head back down adding his tongue to the mix. 

“Sing for him pet. Let him know just how good he is.” Swiss says as he presses kisses into your neck occasionally letting his fangs scrape the skin. 

Your free hand shoots to his head grabbing a fist full of hair as he fingers you faster, tongue flicking over your clit in time with his thrusts. He moans at the feeling causing you to shiver at the added vibration. You let out a series of little groans and huffs as you feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge. 

“Don’t stop. So fucking close.” 

Swiss takes a deep breath and kisses a trail from your neck to your ear “I’ll make it up to you later.” He laughs and bites your lobe. Your brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he speaks again 

“Hands off.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

Phantom falters for a second not knowing who to listen to before he pulls back and sits up to look at Swiss. You whine pathetically, burying your face into the multi-ghoul’s neck feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“Time for lesson three. Humans go crazy for this one.” Swiss places a firm hand on your stomach. There’s a split second where you can smell ozone. You don’t have enough time to react before the feeling of pure pleasure ripples through you causing you to cum with a string of obscenities. 

“What the fuck was that?” Phantom asks in awe looking from your dripping cunt to Swiss’ hand.

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never once thought to use your quintessence like this?” Phantom shakes his head with a growing smile, fangs poking out of the bottom of his lip. 

Swiss smiles and removes his hand from your stomach only to grab Phantom’s and place it there. 

“Find the thread and isolate it.” 

You can feel the quintessence spark to life on your skin, through your whole body filling every nerve with energy. This lasts for a few seconds before you’re screaming, arching against Swiss’ grasp as you feel nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure ripple through you. Phantom rips his hand away looking genuinely fearful for a moment. 

Swiss just chuckles “Neat trick but save that one for Dew. Remember lesson one.”

“Humans are easy.” He says quietly 

Swiss nods “All it takes is a little spark.”

You squirm in Swiss’ grasp when Phantom reaches for you again. He stops and folds his hand in his lap not sure what to do. You take a second to catch your breath, your mind fuzzy with the most intense orgasm of your life. 

“You wanna stop just say the word.” 

You felt like you were underwater. Everything was too much and too little. You needed more. This is why you kept coming to the ghoul den after all, you wanted your brains fucked out and unfortunately for you, you could still think. You settle back against Swiss chest still heaving 

“Just lay there and take it right?” You let yourself go slack. Phantom sighs with relief upon seeing that he didn’t actually hurt you. He’s soft for about a second before he grabs your hips and looks you up and down. 

“Can I try something?” His gaze flicks to Swiss.

“Depends. Does that something include what I’ve shown you?” He nods a growl forming deep in his throat. 

“Consider it your final exam then.”

Phantom barks a laugh “And what if I fail?” The look in his eyes was wild as he squeezed your hips harder. He never removed his gaze from your waiting hole. 

“Then I won’t share my toy with you anymore.” Swiss runs a hand up your body cupping and squeezing one of your breasts like he’s showing you off. 

Phantom flicks his tongue out with a sick grin on his face that makes your heart speed up. He slowly brings the head of his cock to your entrance stopping only to seek Swiss’ approval. When he’s met with no resistance he pushes in with a guttural moan. 

“Fucking shit are all humans this tight?” His chest heaves as he bottoms out pausing to give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him. You throw your head back against Swiss’ shoulder squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even realize tears had fallen from the corners until you felt the fork of a tongue lick a stripe up your face. You let out a choked gasp when Phantom starts to move experimentally. He thrusts into you a few times before growling in satisfaction. He grips the leg not currently held by Swiss’ tail hard before throwing it over his shoulder to get a better angle. 

Gone is the Phantom that cared about your comfort as he begins to pound into you like this is the last time he’ll ever have sex. Each thrust pushes you harder against Swiss, he grunts with each movement and you swear you can feel a wet spot on your back where his dick is pressed. You let a string of moans leave your throat as Phantom snaps his hips against yours muttering something in Infernal. 

He sits back to watch himself fuck into you for a moment before removing his other hand from your hips. He slowly drags the tips of his claws up your abdomen, between your tits before coming to a stop at your throat. He tests the waters by wrapping his nimble fingers around your neck without any pressure. You gaze up at him with big pleading eyes that practically throw him over the edge. He begins to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, squeezing and releasing in time with his thrusts.

“Such a fucking freak. Risking your job to get some demon dick. I bet you’d like it if I did this.” He punctuates his sentence by squeezing hard around your neck and holding it, forcing you to open your mouth in a silent scream in an attempt to get air. He only releases the pressure when your eyes start to flutter closed with tears spilling out. 

He laughs “I can see why you like fucking humans so much.” Swiss only groans in response too lost in his own haze of lust to keep up the role of teacher. He keeps his hand secure around your neck causing you to clench around him. He moans loud and low, hips faltering as his orgasm creeps closer to him. 

Suddenly the air is once more filled with the smell of ozone as Phantom’s quintessence sparks to life. The pressure returns to your throat as you feel his magic course through every vein in your body. Your eyes snap open as you scream silently grabbing onto Swiss’ arm for support as your vision blurs from the lack of oxygen and the force of your orgasm. 

“Look Swiss no hands.” He grunts as his brows furrow as he concentrates on fucking you through the waves of pleasure and keeping his quintessence flowing into you. Both his hands are squeezing bruises into your hips before suddenly you’re empty and all you can feel is his cum splashing onto your stomach practically reaching your chest. 

He takes a brief moment to catch his breath before snapping his fingers. You take in a gulp of air as the feeling of the pressure around your neck disappears. You stare up at the ceiling chest heaving as you come down from your high. 

“What the fuck was that?” Swiss asks in awe mirroring your own thoughts.

Phantom smiles proudly at the tone of the multi-ghouls voice “Told you I wanted to try something.” 

“You’re so showing me how to do that.” This causes Phantom’s tail to beat against the side of the bed. There’s a bit of a dusty blush creeping onto his face. 

“Can we please save the magical choking contest for another night? I think I’ll die if I cum again.” This earns a laugh and a sweet, chaste kiss from Swiss, but Phantom looks genuinely mortified. You feel a prickle of guilt reaching up with a shaky hand to guide his lips to yours. You give him a kiss before pulling back and kissing his nose. A purr kicks up in his chest immediately as he softens. 

Swiss brings a hand to Phantom’s head and gives it a scratch “Now it's time for lesson four.” 

You’re about to protest when you’re suddenly lifted by the multi-ghoul.

 “Swiss what the hell?!” 

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize you wanted to lay in cum and sweat all night please forgive me”

You squeal and cling to his neck when he makes an over-exaggerated move to put you down “That's what I thought.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as he carries you to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, Phantom hot on his heels. 

He gets the bath ready setting out all your favorite soaps and explaining to Phantom the use of bath salts. The tub is only big enough for two of you to soak comfortably so you end up curled against the quintessence ghoul as Swiss scrubs your hair from the side of the bath. Phantom hasn’t stopped purring or asking if everything was okay, that he didn’t hurt you. You attempt to quell the little ghoul’s worry with a few soft kisses to his chest. While this does shut him up, you’re well aware of the occasional pop of magic filling you with relaxation. 

I’m going to kill Swiss for making him think I’d break you think to yourself, wait…oh shit Swiss.

You raise your head from Phantom’s chest and look at the multi-ghoul who was gathering towels for when the two of you were finished.

“What?” He tilts his head with a smile.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” 

Your eyes flick down to his half-hard dick. He chuckles when he realizes.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m a big ghoul I can take care of myself,” He kisses you before you can protest “Besides, I gotta have something left in me for when I walk back out there and Dew has inevitably eaten the rest of the stash.”  You huff when he winks at you and resign yourself to cuddling with Phantom. 

You two stay in the bath until the water cools, but at this point, you’re hardly conscious. The two ghouls have to practically drag you up and out of the tub and into some clothes. Phantom flops into the bed and pulls you close to him, wrapping his tail around your waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. Swiss presses a kiss to your temple and passes a hand through Phantom’s hair before throwing on his sweatpants and leaving the room. The last thing you hear before passing out is a muffled yelp and a “Told you he’d be pissed.”

[tendersugarx]

Ask the Angels

tomas vrbada x f!reader nsfw

now you’re once again luring him to you as if you’re made of siren’s curse, seconds away from dragging him into the depths.

(and when he breathes, he looks for you)

-----

it’s just that you’re not only obsessed, you’re hungry. and it’s a different kind of hunger where the slightest sign of affection will have you throwing yourself on top of him, claws out to make sure he’s marked. he’s always stunned at how much you want it, how much you want him, how much you want his cock. it drives him insane, makes him hold you from behind, press his body against yours. ‘if you love it so fucking much, you can have it every day’ he says, salivating because one hand is holding your waist and the other is pushing your panties to the side, the rosy cotton ones he loves so much, and you’re wet, god, you’re so wet for him. if this had been the first time during the day he would have found it cute, charming, lovely. look at you, so eager, holding your breath, goosebumps at the slightest brush of his fingertips on your skin. you're gorgeous and he’s the one doing this to you, getting you into this state. but this isn’t the first time, no, it’s the sixth time in the course of 4 hours. desperation speaks louder than anything else, he’s given you so much, made you come so good---a few times using only his tongue---and now you’re once again luring him to you as if you’re made of siren’s curse, seconds away from dragging him into the depths. he holds his cock by the base, teases your entrance, slides it between your folds. he’s so sensitive, you’re so sensitive, everything is spinning. ‘please please please please please--’ ‘i’m here, i’m here, i’ve got you, sweetheart.’ and he pushes in with one stroke, so hard it jolts you upwards for a split second. he wastes no time, fucks you nice and fast with no breaks, he needs this too, he needs it as much as you do because otherwise he’ll cease to exist. he knows, logically, that’s not true, the rational part of his brain still functions (yours is long gone) but it’s what it feels like. that if he doesn’t have you over and over he’ll never have you again.

you’re such a good thing, the greatest gift he’s gotten over the last few months. being cooked up here with you, hiding for a bit, disappearing to everyone else---he's on a hunt, to his clan, he's on a hunt. and that's not really a lie, is it? you present yourself like prey, you melt in his hand, his kisses are long and candy-like, his teeth sink into your skin and he draws the tiniest bit of blood, licks it clean again and again. god, he’s so sweet, proud, sliding in and out of you like this--- he’s come inside you three times already, and you begged for it in your mouth, too, begged because you wanted his taste, wanted to see his eyes rolling to the back of his head, to feel his fingers tangling in your hair as you urged him to use your mouth as he pleased. and now now now god now you want it inside of your cunt again, you feel so full already, such a mess, yet you ask for it so adoringly. he chokes on a moan at the request, his heart is beating fast, sweat covered skin and damp hair, eyes sparkling, lips used and swollen from your kisses. “i said i’d give it to you, didn’t i?’ ‘you did,’ you say, out of breath. ‘i’ll come inside you, sweetheart, you feel how hard i am, i’m fucking throbbing inside of you and you--fuck---you squeeze me so tight, you're the only one who gets me like this-- ‘ he’s rambling away in your ear, sweet nothings, he’s admitting to so many things, he’s picking up the pace and thrusting into you like his life depends on it and it probably does. one particular angled thrust takes you there, makes you clench down on him and scream a silent scream, head tipped back almost touching his chest. he gets louder, even faster, he’s coming too, he’s coming so  fucking hard and pressing you against that wall and he’s, he’s--

‘yeah, like that, come on my cock, come on my fucking cock, fuck fuck fuck i love you, i love you so much---’ you’d barely picked up on his previous ramblings but these words register perfectly, seep inside your skin, into your bloodstream. this is what makes you blush. not the fact that he's been fucking you against the wall with such force your nails scratched the pretty wallpaper as you tried to keep yourself steady, no, no, what makes you blush is the softness of his confession. how the word 'love' sounds on his tongue, pure, the euphoria of hearing him like this, usually so well spoken and polite, losing control to the point of uttering such secrets. when you’re both standing still, panting, trying to recover, his forehead pressed against the back of your head, you think he’s choosing to believe you didn’t hear his words. but you did. ‘i love you, too.’ ‘you do?’ you nod, turning around to face him, to nudge against his face like a cat trying to leave your scent on him. your knees buckle but he holds you. ‘with all i have.’ he smiles. ‘me too. with all i have, i mean, i love you. i want you.’ ‘i’m here.’ "promise?’ ‘i would never stray. not from you.’

[writeslikeabitch]

dad!matty headcanons

a/n: ok so ngl i find it kind of hard to write for matty because he is such a complex guy even as a character that I’m afraid of mischaracterizing him or not doing his likeness justice—which I def don’t wanna do? also my biggest fear is that trumanblackblog will stumble upon it. but alas twitter oomfs have been circulating wonderful images of grey haired matty which have really gotten me in my feels so here r some little things I’ve been thinking about!

i literally cannot stress this enough matty is so fucking sentimental. he has a tattoo for u and it's of the first time u ever brought home a drawing of your little duo of a family home from school. Or maybe another one somewhere else of a little flower u doodled on his arm when he fell asleep during a movie.

he overthinks a lot. wonders how he managed to get such an amazing kid. if he deserves you. cries about u growing up. his heart hurts everytime he realizes you've grown an inch or something. it takes all the strength in his body for him not to cry in front of your date when he sees you in your prom dress, for example. he was all waterworks at your graduation.

ik atpoaim has implanted itself in this fandoms brains and mine too so yes they totally build forts.

when he's going through his addiction you're often the first to tip others off—to denise or george when babysitting, just offhand mentioning that "daddy wasn't well yesterday." him being rehab was really really hard for you—even harder when it didn't work—you didn't really understand the concept but you knew at least he was trying to be better. you sent him tons of letters. he kept all of them, like he keeps everything. it's comforting to him, in sort of a selfish way, to know that he has at least one person in his corner who'll love him no matter how hard he is to love sometimes; regardless of the stupid shit he says or does. it pushes him to always try and do right by you.

i feel like he wasn't one for the classic kids books when u were younger , so he made up his own stories. And used to always sing u to sleep—not the band's songs, but random melodies. silly stupid stuff, stuff to make u laugh

your uncles are your best friends, obviously. george is your godfather, and was third in line to hold you after you were born. ross takes u to rugby games which you don't really understand but enjoy anyways cuz he always lets you have candy from concessions and tells you when to cheer. adam is grounding, he got you your first guitar and was always a sound source of advice. when you get older u babysit for him and carly a lot.

you don't really remember your mother—she'd been a part of the guys' adolescent friend group and had eventually grown to fall in love with matty. theirs had been a whirlwind of innocent, wild young love, but it terrified her to settle down, at just 20, a year matty's junior. it was for the best. she had her own issues, too. your dad and her just weren't good for each other, mutual enablers of vices that weren't healthy for a child to be around. she wasn't ready to be a mother. so she left, with but a letter and a locket you now kept safely at the bottom of your jewelry box. sometimes you stole peeks at her facebook, but never dared to reach out any further. your life with matty felt complete, small as it was.

[calliecwrites]

Shifter HRT, part 4 – First Changes (2 Months)

It’s happening! Slowly – but surely. I noticed the first small changes over the last few weeks. And, despite obsessively checking myself for changes every day, I found the first thing completely by accident.

I don’t bleed anymore. I nicked my finger while cooking, and nothing happened. Eventually there was a little blob of red goo there, but it wasn’t watery like blood, and after a while it seeped back into the wound. That’s what my blood is like now. It kinda makes sense that it would be the first thing to change, since it’s already liquid, and it’s what’s carrying the shifterising hormone around my body. I can’t feel it, I can’t control it, but knowing that I’ve got goo in my veins (what a thing to say) is weirdly validating. All those pills I’ve been taking are actually doing something! And I’d swear the cut healed faster than usual – though that might just be me seeing things where there aren’t any.

Speaking of seeing, my eyesight is changing. Or, maybe not the sight itself, but what my brain is doing with it. I’m noticing details more. It’s like how, sometimes, after meditation, I feel like I’m seeing things more as they are, rather than seeing what I expect to see. I imagine it’s what it’s like for an artist studying something they want to draw. Except now it’s happening spontaneously, and more intensely. For a moment, I can look at a tree and take in the whole thing at once, every leaf and branch, and remember it. It’s intermittent – more often than not I’m still seeing things the old human way – but it’s happening enough to notice.

Everyone always says shifters have a really good eye for detail. In all the human stories where shifters are monsters, that’s how they’re able to imitate and replace people so easily (assuming they don’t just absorb them, which also often ends up happening in those stories). I think this must be the start of it.

Some patches of skin feel different, too. There’s one on my leg, one on my stomach, and another on my back. They look the same, but the texture is slightly different, and I can tell where they are even without touching them. If I really focus, I can make them feel just a bit softer and squishier than normal flesh. Not quite like goo, not yet, but definitely different. I’m thinking these will be the first parts to turn fluid, eventually.

And one more thing: I bought one of those shifter art things. Maybe you’ve seen them? – a little bowl full of goo, with a button on the side that you twiddle to change the goo into different shapes. Or, maybe ‘putty’ is a better word – it’s a bit like wet clay that doesn’t dry. It’s a sculpting toy, basically – that shifters invented. I’ve wanted one for years, but never dared, because someone might see it and… guess what was going on in my head? Who am I kidding? – no one is going to see that and think maybe you want to be a shifter! If they even noticed it, they’d take one look, think that’s a funny little thing, and move on. Paranoia is… well. I don’t think paranoia is too strong a word for it. Everything I did had to be checked against would this make people suspect?, and that overrode everything else. Any sign had to be hidden at all costs. I still didn’t dare buy it in a shop – I ordered it online – but now it’s here, sitting on my shelf, and so far no one has called me a monster. I don’t think anyone’s even noticed.

Right now it’s in the very rough shape of a dragon. Well, OK, so it’s basically a blob with two little blobs that kinda maybe could be wings… and looks more like a mushroom… what you can do with the button is very limited! But the real appeal of these is that once I can turn fluid, I’ll be able to flow into it, mix with the putty, and sculpt it from the inside using my own shapeshifting ability. It’s no wonder shifters love these things. Some of the pictures I’ve seen online are amazing – almost as amazing as what they can do with their own bodies. What I’ll be able to do, eventually.

And so that’s it! Two months, and things changing already! I’m still taking my human hormones – I’ll have to keep doing that for a while – and I still haven’t told anyone (ugh, don’t want to think about that), but for only having been on this for such a short time, things couldn’t be better!

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[yuseirra]

Seriously though, it’s so, so strange… Really strange.

What’s odd is that, just now, I opened the manga to reference it for my work, and I’m thinking… Why do I still feel like Ai chose the best possible person among those she could have? Even after seeing everything that became of him?

Why do I still feel like she found someone truly good—someone absolutely worthy of love? If I were the writer, I’d want Ai to meet such a person. So emotionally, I can accept this, but looking at how the story is unfolding, I’m confused about how it’s supposed to make sense. I want it to end this way, and emotionally, I’m convinced it will. But logically, it’s hard to imagine what path the story will take to get there.

How can I still be so strongly convinced that Ai’s boyfriend, at his core, has one of the most genuinely good personalities in the entire series? No one’s ever told me he was a good person. In fact, there’s been a lot of negative impressions about him, but somehow, this feeling pushes through all of that. How?

I can’t shake the thought that someone with a nature like his couldn’t just twist like this on his own.

There were bad circumstances, despair, incredibly poor luck, and the guilt he’s carried—sure, that’s all there. And narratively, it makes sense. He’s written in a way that he couldn’t help but deeply, deeply love Ai, so after her death, of course, he wouldn’t be okay. How could he be?

But something else pushed him beyond the point of normal breakdown. It feels like something shattered him far more than what he could have endured naturally. It’s as if something made him lose his mind completely. It’s too strange. Why do I feel this way?

But when the line about him having a “noble soul” came up, I accepted it immediately. I thought, of course. It felt so obvious to me that I wondered why it hadn’t come up sooner. It was exactly what I expected.

Ai really did find someone who wanted to be with her forever, someone truly good. I am convinced yet again. That feeling strikes me really strongly.

But how did he end up like this? I have some ideas, but I can’t know what the author has in mind. And no matter how much a reader tries to predict a series still in progress, ultimately, it’s up to the author, right?

He’s barely appeared in the story, yet why do I feel so strongly about this?;;; Why do I feel like this? But I’m still relying on that feeling when I draw fan art.

It’s so strange…

He’s an extraordinarily kind person, I think? but… this is strange. Why do I feel this way after seeing everything?;;; What’s going on? Why am I like this?

The good thing is, with a personality like that, I know I can handle him well. I always love these types of characters, so drawing him would be fun. But really… is this right? I mean, he’s someone who is accused of having killed many people and even tried to kill his own daughter—how could this feeling even be correct?

One more thing I’ve noticed—if just two or three good things had happened to him along the way, Kamiki wouldn’t have ended up so broken.

When I think about what the author is trying to show by completely destroying a character who was once so gentle…

I think I get it. There could be a message that can be derived from it, if I'm inferring things right. But… I’m not sure because I'm not the writer themselves, so… haha.

Ah, if I couldn’t sense anything, I’d just shut off my brain and go along with whatever, I wouldn't care at all. I keep feeling like I see something faint, though, so I keep talking about it. But since there’s no certainty, I feel like I’m making a fool of myself.

Ah. Really… I rarely misread these kinds of things. He’s such a fundamentally good person… I wish they’d show more clearly how he ended up like this. He’s worth studying. Since both of the authors are so skilled in psychological portrayal, I’m sure they’ll express this in a way that makes sense. I feel like I could predict it, but it’s still too vague for me to say.

These intuitions are so hard to explain. But they’re usually right. I don’t get these things wrong often… So for now, I’m just writing it down because feelings are fleeting and I would think of different things at different time. These little notes live in the now.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Truth be told, Jack doesn’t remember the eight seconds he spent on the bronco’s back.

If any moon-eyed fangirls come up to him and ask about it, he plans on giving the standard blanket responses, like all he heard was the roar of the crowd.

In actuality, all he has are fragments from right before the livestock hands pulled that gate. It’s hard to forget that kind of anticipation racing through his veins, the sawing sound of rope pinning his riding glove to the back of the horse as Jack grit his teeth, ordering Racer to pull it even tighter.

Everything else, like the sickening crack from his head slamming against Midnight Train’s spine that made the audience cringe in horror, was told to him second hand. 

The trainer who checked him out gave him a lot of medical jargon he wasn’t too familiar with, but Jack gathered the important stuff. No riding for three days, get plenty of rest, neither of which he has any intention of following. And of course, there was the whole spiel about concussions affecting memory.

Imprinted in his is the face of one of the pick-up men as Jack faded in and out of consciousness, stern and cool and steady. He can nearly still feel strong arms around him, keeping him from falling into the dirt of the arena, can still hear the New York accent reassuringly mutter, “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

So if Jack can’t stop thinking of the pick-up man who hauled his limp body from the horse into his lap, he’s chalking it up to brain damage. 

He’s been named Rookie of The Year for Bareback Riding—Jack Kelly can’t afford to be distracted by any potential flings. 

And still, every time he blinks, that face is waiting for him just behind his eyelids.

It’s the longest, most agonizing twenty-four hours before an opportunity to make a bad decision presents itself to Jack. He usually doesn’t make it that long. He also usually doesn’t go that long without visiting Dancer, but his body needed to recover after being thrown off that horse in the arena. 

The first thing that greets Jack when he enters the stables is the very same face that’s been stuck in his mind since yesterday. The pick-up man is reaching up, brushing the soft golden mane of the quarter horse that pulled Jack off the bronco.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he greets, drawing up his most charming first-impressions smile.

“In the stables?” asks the pick-up man. Not an ounce of his attention dedicated to brushing his horse’s long blond mane is redirected to Jack. “Pretty sure this is the least fancy place to meet someone.”

“It’s as good a place as any to thank you. For yesterday.”

“I assume you mean when you got your ass bucked off of Midnight Train and I dragged you out?”

Jack scoffs. He should probably be accosted, but he’s only more intrigued. “That would be correct,” he admits.

“No need to thank me, in that case. Just doing my job.”

“Be nice if I had a name to the face that saved my rawhide.”

“And it’d be nice if you checked your staff sheet maybe once before you rode.”

Jack blinks. “Pardon me,” he begins, leaning an elbow up against Dancer’s stable, “but have I offended you?”

“Not yet.” His head twitches in annoyance. “But you’re a rodeo man. You’re bound to eventually.”

Jack crosses his arms. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”

The pick-up man pauses and sighs, finally rewarding Jack with a look in his direction. He pretends not to, but Jack catches the way his eyes quickly scan him up and down. “David. David Jacobs. Which you’d have known if you’d check your staff sheet. You haven’t even bothered to give me your name, because you assume everyone already knows it.”

“So you’re saying you haven’t heard of me.”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about you, Jack Kelly,” David answers, turning his attention back to the silky mane he’d been brushing.

Jack looks up at the horse in question—a beautiful quarter with an unusual coloring halfway between brown and straight up golden. He steals another glance at David, head turned up in an admiration that’s reserved for the sacred bond between man and horse, as ridiculous as Jack admits that sounds.

Still, it’s quite the sight. David is quite the sight, beams of the setting sun reflecting off his green eyes, the shadows accentuating the perfect combination of curves and angles on his face.

 “Gorgeous,” Jack finds himself muttering.

“Thanks,” David replies, completely missing where Jack’s compliment was directed. “Shimmer’s my pride and joy. If you should be thanking anyone, it’s her. She’s a bit of a social butterfly. Even broncs love her.” He turns his gaze to Which one’s yours?”

“The skittery one right next door.” Jack points out the appaloosa horse, Dancer, aptly named for the way she fidgets her feet when she’s excited.

David snorts. “Figures. Shimmer’s obsessed with her. I always catch them talking to each other ‘cross the stables.”

“Funny. I’m obsessed with you.”

David rolls his eyes. “Maybe you should be obsessed with brushing up your technique, and you won’t get your ass handed to you so often.”

“Ass handed to me? I made it to eight seconds.” He also ranked fourth in the semifinals. As a rookie. But he won’t bring that up right now.

“It’s going to take a lot more than eight seconds to impress me.”

“Let me take you out to dinner then, darlin’. Show you that I can go all night.”

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

Jack shrugs. “To be completely honest, I think I’m downright adorable, but that’s besides the point.”

He thinks he might see David’s mouth twitch when he returns his attention to Jack. “I don’t sleep with cowboys. Kind of a rule of mine.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, you spend a night with me and we won’t be doing any sleeping.” He chances hooking a finger under David’s chin and dragging his mouth dangerously close to his ear. It’s entirely too brazen and forward, but Jack doesn’t know any other way to be. “You think Broncos are the only thing I know how to ride?” he asks, grinning when he hears David swallow around a drying throat.

“You couldn’t keep me saddled if you tried,” David mutters back, and his breath against Jack’s cheek sends a shudder from his ear, through his spine, all the way down to his toes.

And then David shoves him. Hard. Sending Jack toppling over his own feet and sprawling out onto the ground with an incredible lack of grace.

“Like I said,” David calls back as he opens the gate to Shimmer’s stable and saddles her up. “Technique could use some fixing.”

The click of horse hooves trotting against cobblestone fading into the distance, Jack decides he’s unequivocally in love with David Jacobs.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Hiii

I remember when you were posting about your Kim/Wik Twins AU and I was so hooked! There’s so much potential for angst in this AU😩🤌 I always wondered if there was anything new going on with this WIP.

PS: I’ve been following your blog for a little while (I don’t interact bc im shyy) and I love all your Kimchay WIPS and little excerpts you’ve blessed us with (they make my day everytime I see one). So I want to personally thank your brain for all these wonderful ideas and just thank you for being you 😊

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Oh anon, you're a darling! This was so nice to wake up to <3 I actually haven't worked much on that AU since originally posting it, but you're right, there is so much angst potential in this AU between Wik and Kim. One of the inspirations from it actually came from World of Warcraft, and how the character Varian was split into two people, the other one being Lo'Gosh. I really loved how it wasn't just "this is the good side vs. the bad/feral side." Varian was polite and charming and good at socializing, but he was also vain and easy to manipulate (which was the point of splitting him), whereas Lo'Gosh was definitely a barbarian, but he was also all of Varian's strong will and ambition/motivation, and passion. I hadn't seen that kind of character splitting before, because it's usually an easy shorthand for doing a good/evil thing.

So for the purposes of this fic, Kim isn't just all the evil mafia while Wik is the sweetheart singer. Wik is very driven and tbh a little selfish, he's kind to his fans but ultimately very cold, because he grew up in a world where anything he cared about could be used against him. Both of them are still calculating in clever, but it's Wik that begins investigating Chay, intentionally using his stardom as an in, and purposefully manipulating him to get more information. He takes it to a stronger degree than we actually see from Kim in the show.

Whereas Kim is the quieter, more contained side. They both love music but Kim prefers guitar/piano over singing because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself the way Wik does, although he does write a lot of poetry/lyrics. One of the betrayals from Wik leaving is that he stole Kim's songs. The other is that he left Kim behind. He loves his brother more than anything, and Wik leaving him without so much as a goodbye was devastating for him.

Here's your slightly less than 500 words!

“You left me!” “Would you have even come with me?” Kim’s voice breaks on a desperate, “Yes!” He wants to take it back as soon as the word leaves his mouth, too honest in the heat of his moment, chest heaving with the weight of it. The only good thing about the admission is that his brother is too stunned to reply; Kim takes satisfaction in that, in the implication of it, as Wik realizes the depth of his own selfishness.  “Kim…” “I would…” Kim swallows. Days of captivity have left his throat dry. It hurts, speaking these words aloud, tearing them out of his chest to release them after all these years. “I would have. If you asked me to, I would have.”  He would have followed his brother anywhere. They were always meant to be together. Kim and Wik, two halves of the same whole, mirror images down to their names. Until Wik decided he couldn’t bear his own reflection anymore.  “Kim, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” “How could you? You only ever think about yourself.” Kim laughs. It’s wet. It hurts, like everything else about this damned conversation. Maybe Wik was right; they were better off alone. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, but you don’t know me at all.” Maybe Wik never did. What a horrible time to realize how truly alone he really is.  Wik doesn’t speak for a long time. Neither does Kim, keeping his head bowed and his breaths measured, cracked ribs aching with every rise and fall of his chest. What a cruel joke that the first time they’re sharing a space in years, something Kim has longed for since the day Wik left, and it’s only because someone else has forced them together.  “I don’t think you would ever leave the family,” Wik eventually says, his voice quieter than Kim has ever heard it. “You’re not like me, Kim, you never wanted to leave.” Of course he didn’t. Why would Kim ever want to leave his brothers? But at least if he had, Kinn and Tankhun would have had each other. They wouldn’t have been alone, not like Wik is now. Not like Kim is, forever missing his other half. Neither of them were meant to be alone. "It doesn't matter anymore." "Yes it does. Kim. I never meant to hurt you. I—" But there's no more time to talk because their captors are walking in, and Wik is throwing himself in front of Kim, both of them bound and unable to put of any kind of fight. Not that it would have mattered; Wik already got himself kidnapped. Too nosy to stay out of the family completely, but apparently the idealistic fool didn't bother to keep up with his martial arts. Still. Despite blaming him for the current predicament, Kim is a little bit touched that Wik is trying to protect him now. Too late to matter, maybe, but it's something.

[mimbotomy]

Babes 🩷

There’s a not so small chance I end up changing my PFP to this at some point so just a heads up in case you see someone you don’t recognize on your feed. My username will stay the same tho so not a complete change. Also there’s a personal little word vomit/therapy rant under the read more if you are interested in an explanation for my semi disappearance from tumblr the last few months.

Not to overshare, but I’ve had a lot of personal shit go down and a really difficult couple of months, which really kinda boiled down to being diagnosed with Bipolar 2 and my new psychiatrist doubling the dosage of my meds from 100 mg to 200 mg.

(Side note apparently doctors don’t like to diagnose people with bipolar if they’re younger than 25 so they call it hypomania and lie to your face when you ask if your manic episodes mean you are bipolar. Or at least that’s what happened to me.)

Anyways doubling my meds meant I was no longer having the occasional minor manic episode which was great I guess. But it also ended up suppressing my emotions to the point where I felt like I couldn’t trust my brain anymore. Worse, it really stifled my creativity and while I did manage to force myself to write, I really struggled with my art and eventually ended up not drawing at all for two months. Which just made it so much harder to handle everything else going on.

But I’m posting this little rant because my dosage has now been at a happy medium of 150 mg for about a week and a half now and I am finally starting to feel a little more like myself, although I might go down to 125 mg in a few weeks if I’m still feeling off. And as you might have guessed from the drawing above, I finally got my creativity back! It was a bit like a dam breaking too lol. This is not the only drawing I worked on yesterday but it is the only one I finished and I had a lot of fun working with the color changing pencil and I think it’s pretty good and I hope you all like it 😊

So to end my little rant, while I still have a lot of personal stuff going on right now, I’m hoping that I’ll have some more art and maybe a chapter or two for you sooner rather than later.

But more importantly, I just want to remind everyone that you know your body and mind best and it’s okay to stand up to your doctors if you don’t think a medication or dosage is working for you. I did a lot of damage to my body and mental health trying to “stick it out” with medication that was not working or actively making things worse long before I was diagnosed with bipolar, and even though I thought I had learned my lesson, I still stayed on a dosage that was hurting me for much longer than I should have because my doctor had told me that 200 mg was typically the bare minimum dosage of my medication, and I only ended up protesting when she said she wanted to raise my dosage so I was on 300 mg by the end of the year. Which honestly just scared me so much that I finally stood up for myself.

Anyways, you have control over what you put in your body and it’s okay to stand up to your doctors if you aren’t happy with your treatment! They might be the professionals but you know yourself best!

Take care of yourself y’all 🥰

[miss-tc-nova]

Forgetting Familiar - Riku x Reader

Okay, I think this is as good as it's going to get. Sorry. But I can't do much more without like doubling the words and at that point, I've lost the plot, lol. Still, thank you for bringing me back some angsty Riku.

Premise: Riku is struggling with being alone

Words: 2,016

~~~~~

               Pain throbs in my skull, shattering respite in the darkness. For a while, I try ignore it and delve deeper into the realm of sleep, but it’s just too much and now I must suffer the world of the waking.

               The grey ceiling seems unassuming, but even it burns my eyes. Rubbing at my face doesn’t soothe a thing. Still, I manage to sit up and take a look. Pots and shelves line the walls, filled with all sorts of objects and knickknacks. Behind the bed is a single window, letting in the abhorrently-blinding light and across the way is a plain, wooden door.

               I don’t know this room.

               Legs wobble trying to support me, even landing me back on the bed once. Voices from behind the door encourage me to stand. My head screams for me to stop, to let the floor take me and stop struggling. But I stagger on.

               Pulling the door open, I find a large group of people on the other side. Whatever chatter ensuing now falls silent, all eyes on me. All of them look surprised, but not as much as the young man with silver hair and the most-striking teal eyes.

               Again, my crippled legs take me down, drawing gasps from the crowd. Hasty steps bring the silver-haired man skidding on his knees before me. Warm, firm hands on my shoulders hold me steady.

               “Are you okay?! Do you feel sick?! Are you dizzy?!”

               His words rush by so fast they slip through my brain’s grasp. So my mouth lets run the truth.

               “My head hurts.”

               “Well you were thrown through a stone wall,” the tall red-head remarks.

               “Xemnas wasn’t holding back even a little,” says the girl with ebony hair.

               The man in front of me pushes the hair from my face, being so careful in spite of his anxiety.

               “I was so worried. I thought you were gone.”

               The sound kind of just falls out of my mouth.

               Eyes wide, horror dawning on his expression, he asks, “What?”

               It takes a moment for my thoughts to sort themselves out and I repeat myself.

               “Who are you?”

~~~~~

               I can still hear his screaming in my ears. He begged in vain before turning to cursing how nothing was fair. However, what he cried for I’m still not entirely sure. All memory has been erased from my mind—I’m lucky to even recognize my own name. The context by which everyone else works is the only basis I’ve been able to work on during these last few months.

               From what I’ve gathered, I was an ally to those I met upon waking up and my amnesia is but one of the unfortunate results of the worlds-deciding battle hard won. Another was the loss of a very important team member and the self-induced coma of another. Both of these individuals were the best friends of Riku.

               That pain of losing loved ones that Riku is suffering is one I can only imagine, made worse by the fact that he has none to share it with. That battle took away everything from him and that’s worthy of my pity.

               Still, that’s no excuse for dragging me into his breakdown. Terra and Ven had to physically pry his hands off me while Aqua and the three fairies ushered me back into the other room. His fingers digging into my skin and the utter fear in his eyes are burned into my senses. He wanted so desperately for me to remember, but it was useless. Perhaps I held the secret to his friends’ returns. If I did, I don’t remember it and I may never remember it again.

               For now, I’ve been left in the care of Master Yen Sid as both his assistant and patient. Dozens of attempts have been made to restore my memory with no success. Meanwhile, we’ve simultaneously scoured tome upon tome for the whereabouts of the lost keyblade wielder. It hasn’t been miserable—I’m sure I’ve learned more about this existence that I knew before—but I can’t help feeling like something’s not right.

               Another stack of books obscures my sight as I climb the spiral stairs. Knuckles rap against the wooden door as I let myself into the Master’s office.

               “Sir, I’ve brought your latest request of—whoa!”

               “Careful!”

               The tower in my arms begins to topple. However, before I lose all control of the stack, someone on the other side rights the balance.

               “Phew. Thank you…”

               The sentiment dies on my tongue at the sight of the man who saved me. His eyes quickly divert, ensuring I’m stable enough to be released.

               “No problem…”

               Shaking the awkwardness, I approach the Master’s desk. “Your books, sir.”

               His ever-intense gaze skims the spines before him. “I’m afraid there are other books that I’m in need of.”

               I gesture to the walls of texts in which he’s barricaded himself. “We’re running out of space to store any more books.”

               The wizened wizard eyes his leftovers. “True. Perhaps it’s time to return some of these to their rightful homes and make room for new knowledge.”

               I sigh.

               “You can go with Riku.”

               Neither of us seemed to expect that. “What?!”

               “If you need books returned, I can do that for you with—” Riku’s glance convinces me that he’s choosing to reword his statement. “—er, without taking up your assistant’s valuable time.”

               “No. I’m in need of more research.” Master’s eyes turn back on me. “You know what sort of material I’m looking for as well as which books I’ve already combed through. And I trust you to acquire any others that may be of interest. So I would like you to accompany Riku to Radiant Gardens and peruse the library of Ansem the Wise.”

               Shoulders drop, gaze falling to the floor. “Yes sir.”

               “Riku, thank you for the update on the situation. I presume my infringement on your next destination isn’t too much to ask.”

               “No sir.” His head dips and, with the utmost formality, he faces me to gesture towards the door. “Whenever you’re ready.”

               Defeated, I point to the pile beside the door. “These ones are ready to be returned to Radiant Gardens.”

               Riku grabs a handful and takes the lead, giving me one last chance to throw a pleading glance to Master Yen Sid, who’s already delving into his next book. With my fate sealed, I join Riku in loading up the gummiship. The work and flight go quiet, awkward, filled with tension that I’m not entirely sure the origin of.

               Greeted by the guards at Radiant Gardens, we’re left to our own devices. Riku sees that I know my way to the library before I send him off on his own errands, happy to be rid of the stress.

               It’s not that I dislike Riku; I just don’t understand him. All I know is the fragility of his current state, not what drives him or who he really is. So I consider it best not to be involved, lest I potentially make his problems worse. It’s not as if he’s made any effort to change my present views of him either. His visits to the tower are brief, sparing me only painful glances before rushing off again. Even worse, he makes it feel like everything is wrong. If I had to guess, we weren’t all that close.

               My finger skims another spine, plucking the book to peruse its contents.

               “Find any more books for Master Yen Sid?”

               I glance back. I didn’t think he could get any more melancholic. That stony somberness has turned to utter dejection. He looks like he could collapse at any moment from the weight of his own depression.

               “Uh, yeah.” I look to the handful I’ve collected on the nearby table. “I found a few, but I doubt that Lord Ansem will have much more that the Master hasn’t already seen. I’ll have to consult with him about finding other worlds to source his books from.”

               “I see…”

               That tension has returned, it’s palpability growing in the silence. It makes concentration difficult as I try to assess the book in hand.

               Then Riku speaks again.

               “I’m sorry…about before.”

               Titling my head, I peek at the young man. He keeps is gaze aimed at the wall, a cocktail of negative emotion eeking out from him. My heart quivers yet my voice remains even.

               “It’s fine. I imagine that emotions run high fresh after war.”

               His hesitation tells me he thinks twice on his response. “Yeah…”

               Normally, I’d rather bask in the silence, but at the moment it’s suffocating. Something urges me to sympathize with the warrior.

               “How’s your friend? Find any leads?”

               I shouldn’t have asked.

               “No. Nothing’s changed.” A distracting hand runs over the pile of books.

               “Everyone’s working hard. I’m sure they’ll find a way to bring them back soon,” I say, attempting to backtrack.

               Though his eyes stare at the cover of the top book, I’m certain they see nothing. This trip has only pushed him closer to the edge of breaking. The Master should’ve never pushed me on him, exposing this vulnerability when I’m sure he’d rather hide away.

               “You still don’t remember anything, do you.” The pathetic hope in his voice pricks at my conscience.

               Meaning to be more apologetic than anything, I respond, “Sorry. I can’t help you.”

               “I…”

               What semblance of composure this man has been clinging to finally slips his grasp, revealing the full brunt of his agony.

               “I don’t need your help.”

               Without another word, Riku starts for the door he never reaches. Stumbling feet send his shoulder into the wall where he just slumps to the floor. The shudder that ripples through his body steals my breath away.

               “Riku?”

               Fingers dig into his arms. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. I don’t even know if any of this can be fixed but if I stop trying I might as well be worthless. But I’m tired and scared and weak.” The crack that rises in his voice nearly brings me to tears. “And I’m just so sick of being alone.”

               With a mind of their own, my feet close the gap. By his shoulder, I pull Riku back to face me, dropping to my knees before him. What follows I haven’t the slightest idea of where it came from.

               “Hey. Look. Look at me.” Gentle coaxing guides those teary eyes to me, tugging at my heartstrings.

               Whatever compels me to drop my mouth to his unlocks a burning desire within. Hands slip beneath his, giving his frantic fingers something else to hold. Salt-laced lips conform helplessly to my whim, allowing me to drag his mentality back towards stable ground. With this control, I pray to convey reassurance. In his chaotic, crumbling life, I hope in this moment to be the rock to which he can ground himself.

               Softly, the kiss breaks, gentle breaths ghosting between us. He still seems broken and weary, but not utterly hopeless anymore. Though I’m afraid he’s hoping for the impossible from me, I brush the hair from his face.

               I speak only loud enough for our own little seclusion.

               “You are not alone. I may not be them, but I’m here. And I’ll take every step with you, even if I have to drag you.” These words don’t feel like my own, but somehow I know this is right. “So be strong or be weak—be whatever you need to get through this—but don’t ever doubt that I’m with you. Okay?”

               Contemplation keeps him quiet but he does manage to nod.

               “Don’t you ever forget that.” A thumb brushes away another tear.

               Cautious hands slip behind my back, pulling me closer for Riku to hide his face against my shoulder. Taking his lead, I return the gesture, holding tight. His heartache slowly melts, relief rolling off him.

               I can’t explain this contentment seeping into my bones, but I think I needed this just as much as he did. Because for the first time since I woke up, I’ve finally found something familiar.

~~~~~

Nova’s Kingdom Hearts Masterlist

[slacktastic]

SONG OF THE DAY: “I Can Only Be Myself”

Ahh the first single. 

I don’t even know what constitutes a good single anymore. Things have changed radically in the music business since I started making records. And let’s be honest, it’s not like I ever had much interest or knowledge of the biz anyway, much less any successful singles. I just know what stimulates my own little music brain. I’ve never been good at “trendy”, and I’ve never really cared.

But this seems like a pretty sensible choice for an introduction. It’s got a lot of ear candy for ya, and some snark too. And hey, it’s actually got a chorus, unlike some of my other songs. 

It’s a defiant little number, isn't it? I guess we all feel like that sometimes…when you get fed up trying to please someone else…being forced to go against your instincts for someone else’s agenda. Eventually you feel the need to reclaim your own identity. That’s what the song means to me, just a planting of the proverbial foot, and the refusal to fit into a tiny, constricted box. I guess it’s as appropriate a song as ever to kickstart my own solo career again after such a lengthy hibernation.

I remember writing it fairly quickly - but in two separate sittings, a year or so apart. There had been an incident in my life where I was really frustrated after an argument with a friend, and I literally said the words out loud - “I can only be myself.” 

And so I found myself a few days later, sitting in a cabin in the woods with an acoustic guitar, playing that little bass riff that slinks its way through the verses, before opening up to the big washy open chords that signal the chorus. I quickly came up with “I can only be myself, I don’t care what you want,” but had nothing else. I knew it was a good hook, so I recorded a quick voice memo and set it aside. I got distracted, but finally came back to it…a year later. 

And when I came back to it, I immediately found that little descending and ascending back up baroque pattern that opens the song. That was all the spark I needed to finish the song in one sitting, in about ten minutes. Done. I was in a completely different headspace that day, but I was still able to recall the angsty mood that had inspired the initial hook, and I channeled that defiance into the final lyric.

As always with my solo projects, I played all the instruments. Tracking it was pretty fun…I did the whole thing at my home studio, layering everything to a metronome individually. It was based around the gentle fingerpicked acoustic guitar part that spawned the song, which is an odd juxtaposition to the heavy full-band sound of the final mix. I used a Jazzmaster to rake those bright, slashing chords and the pointed angular stabs, but the layered slide solos were all done with my Gibson SG. 

I love the swirly, meandering organ lines, and the percussive Wurlitzer electric piano that drives, matching the acoustic pattern almost perfectly. But the real star of the song (in my humble opinion) is the punchy Rickenbacker bass line, played super staccato with a heavy pick. Like I said, lots of ear candy there.

After realizing that I didn’t get a very good drum sound at my own studio, I took the track over to my buddy Tom’s place, and recorded the final drum take there, with me playing on his old Rogers kit.

As for my vocals…well, they’re my vocals. I can only be…idiosyncratic. I’m like so many of you out there, in that I hate the sound of my own voice…alas, it’s all I’ve got. Y’all know I love stacking harmonies, but I kept them to a minimum here, just a low octave matching the lead vocal for most of the song, but with a short, glorious cluster of Queen stacks at the very end. 

Anyway…that’s the song…hope you like it. I’ll post more of these “song of the day” things as the release date for Across The Milky Way draws near.

As always, thanks for listening,

CH

4-8-25

[dustmusings]

get to know your mutuals!

thank you for the tag @jetii 🫶 I too am very nosey and love finding out everyone’s job lmao, you met Kamala Harris??? that’s insane

what’s the origin of your blog title: tbh I don’t know why chose this, but on reflection, I know that I’ve seen a picture of Rex’s face edited onto the t-rex toy from Toy Story, (who is coincidentally and unsurprisingly also called Rex, and has anxiety, as I found out in trying to find the image to no avail) and I think that was probably bouncing around in the back of my brain at the time (if anyone knows what I’m on about or has the image pls send it my way I need it pls and thank you)

OTP + ship name: generally I'm not very passionate about ships, although I’m writing a little Adar x OC fic and I feel very super strongly about them atm (whether it’ll see the light of day remains to be seen) also I saw someone’s rarepair on tiktok which was jango x shaak ti, and it hasn’t left my brain since

favourite colour: pretty much any type of green

favourite game: sable !!! the loml, I listen to the soundtrack all the time tbh japanese breakfast absolutely cooked there. but also any and all of the tomb raider games

song stuck in your head: I did the sound & lights for a play recently, and the final song was ‘all that jazz’ from Chicago, and it will. not. leave. has me doing jazz hands as I’m making breakfast like ok queen settle down

weirdest habit/trait: I do this finger tapping thing, which I mostly do when I’m a passenger in the car. it's basically tapping when the edge of the windscreen crosses grass/a hedge or something else green, and then releasing when it’s not, or on the motorway it’s tapping when the edge of the windscreen crosses a wheel of another car. um. so yeah apparently I'm insane

hobbies: playing instruments (violin is no longer a… hobby, but guitar, piano), writing, drawing, composing

if you work, what’s your profession: it’s not really a profession, but I’ve been teaching violin for a little while now. it’s really just to tie me over til (hopefully) starting my masters course, but I wouldn’t hate to do it going forward tbh, it’s pretty rewarding

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be: film composer. literally the dream (still trying to turn it into a reality lol)

something you’re good at: violin I guess, also buying posters I don’t have the wall space for

something you’re bad at: tennis. tried for years but it doesn’t agree with me

something you love: my 1:1 Ewan McGregor cardboard cut out. with all my heart

something you could talk about for hours, off the cuff: the music of star wars

something you hate: haters. of literally anything, even things I don’t like. just pisses me off an unreasonable amount. like grow up lmao, is it ever that deep? the answer is no. go touch some grass :)

something you collect: b&w postcards, vinyl, stickers and pins (no surface is safe from me)

something you forget: the better question would be something I remember, I forget literally everything, the date, the day, when I last ate, what it was I ate, people’s names (although I never forget a birthday… go figure)

what’s your love language: words of affirmation & quality time for sure

favourite movie/show: whisper of the heart! I’ve talked my shit about this already. but also new girl

favourite food: forever mac & cheese

favourite animal: fox

what were you like as a child: quiet and chronically shy, but also feral. um.. talented (rip)

favourite subject at school: music (big surprise)

what's your best character trait: I think I'm pretty level-headed, good at navigating arguments, that sort of thing

what's your worst character trait: I'm really bad at keeping in touch with people. like it's shameful. but also because I convince myself that everyone hates me so...

if you could change any detail of your life right now what would it be: ummm I guess I would move out lol

if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? George Harrison <3

npt (idk who has done this/been tagged sorry): @champagnejaig @mae-lou-ron @tanobatcher @littletroggo @kometqh

[yuseirra]

Okay, just one more before I get back to drawing... I can draw!!! I really love running my thoughts on this subject, my brain just keeps functioning, and I have to drop my thoughts...

Heheh, in short, I still feel I am never wrong about hikaai(yet), I am so stubborn, aren't I? but I really am not. I know when to give up, so I will when I have to but when it comes to them, I don't think I'll ever have to?

I jotted things down(whew, I really love writing), bringing it here too~ used translators because.. I am exhausted and I can't write this same thing twice when there are lovely inventions out there. let's put it to good use!

***

I’ve never really been wrong when it comes to reading emotions. When it comes to real people, I don’t try to push myself to analyze them, but when it comes to fictional characters with enough pieces to work with, I do enjoy trying to figure them out—just as a hobby, because it's fun.

When I get hooked on something, I analyze it thoroughly.

But when it comes to Kamiki, we’ve never really been given a full picture. All we have are fragmented pieces of information, and they’re so scattered that they just don’t come together.

What made me start analyzing him seriously was the music. A song can convey a complete narrative. There's already a somewhat cohesive image in it, and through that, I was able to catch a fragment of the emotional essence of this character. That became the basis for trying to piece everything else together.

To be honest, when I think about the overall story and what meaning this character might hold, I feel like I already got a sense of it just from listening to the songs. But when I see what the story is doing, it’s constantly twisting things around and making it so confusing. This happened with AquaKana too. The story keeps throwing in misdirection, and it's exhausting at times. There are things that seem so clear, but the story keeps bluffing, and it's frustrating to the point where I had to take a break from it.

With AquaKana, I was right.

Now with Kamiki’s character, either I’m completely wrong, or the writers just love to mess with us. But even if I’ve been wrong about other things in life, I’ve never been wrong about this kind of thing.

If things go the way I’ve been thinking, it could turn out to be a really compelling story. I feel like that’s where it’s heading.

But talking about someone else’s work like this is really hard. Who am I to be saying all this? In English, they'd call this feeling “entitled.” I know better than anyone that I’m just one reader among many. No matter what I think, I have no influence over the work—I’m fully aware of that.

Still, because I can see things, I keep talking about it, and that’s what makes it so frustrating. It’d be easier if the work could just tell me I’m completely wrong. Then I could admit it, give up, and move on… If I didn’t like it, I’d just walk away. But the ambiguity keeps bothering me.

I’ve always been good at grasping the big picture, even if I can’t get all the small details right.

I used to make a lot of fan videos for my favorite series. I think I’m good at understanding things on a broad level.

In that sense, I know what this is.

I understand the big picture, and I know what emotions are at play here on a smaller scale.

When I sang Fatal yesterday, I realized something. That song is definitely wrapped in a thick layer of madness. I really underestimated that in my character analysis.

I admit that I missed something important there.

But the reason I didn’t pick up on it is because I felt like, at its core, it’s actually a sad song. Sure, on the surface, it’s absolutely drenched in madness. But the core emotion is sadness. Kamiki, at his core, is deeply, deeply sad to the point where he wants to die. That hit me hard. That’s why I believe Mephisto is his song, too. I’m sure I’m right. The song doesn’t fit Aqua’s story, but it fits Kamiki perfectly.

The feeling of longing and sorrow is overwhelming—almost painfully so. So when I listened to it, I thought, "This is it. This is love." That’s why I think I’ve drawn more fan art of Kamiki and Ai than anyone else in the entire world at this point. I drew them every single day. I felt so much because the emotions were just so strong.

Do any of you ever feel this way? Like, sometimes when you’re talking to someone, their emotions don’t just stay on their side but hit you directly, and you feel exactly what they’re feeling? That happens to me a lot, and it’s exhausting. That’s why I try to focus on happy thoughts as much as possible.

I had to leave Twitter even though I had so many valuable connections there because I just couldn’t handle it anymore. Around that time, a war broke out, and I felt like my insides were completely falling apart watching so many terrible news.

Music, though… It’s such a good medium for conveying emotions. When you listen to the songs connected to a work, they really help you understand what the characters are feeling or the overall vibe of the story. It’s why I got into my favorite character in the first place—after listening to the opening theme of season 1.

Idol was such a painful song when I first heard it. It hurt so much and felt so tragic. And yet, the character singing it…she was so determined and I admired that part of the character. It was so obvious what the song was about that it left me with this heavy feeling.

The song was almost too easy to understand—it was so raw and exposed. In that sense, it’s like a nude painting. It’s all out there, completely vulnerable, crying out for someone to accept it. It doesn’t hide anything, and that’s why it was so hard to listen to. The song directly conveys this character's emotions, stabbing right into you. But those emotions are so painful to bear. Still, the message in the end is to keep going and live your best life… That’s why I decided I had to watch onk, and Ai turned out to be exactly like the person I imagined from that song. Strong but weak, so lovely and lively and fragile and human with an incredibly powerful will. I really root for her. I can’t say I would have handled things as well as she did if I were to be her. She worked so hard, and it’s heartbreaking.

Haha, when I get this invested, it’s important to step back and create some distance, but when I’m drawing or writing dialogue for manga, I dive right back in. It's the one determination I have when I decide to craft something out of another person's work, it's my way of showing my love towards it. In a way, I also give it my all, it's my way of connecting with the piece. I want to understand it, I want to be accurate. I want to do a good job. Like I say, I am a perfectionist. I also want to handle another person's work with care.

Fatal is such an intense song.

Honestly, the reason I started watching this series is because the emotions are so intense. Even if they’re not always in a good way, they’re raw, complex, and well-crafted. They feel so real.

I wrote that the song must be about Kamiki immediately after listening to the song. I just knew. And now look. I was right. If you look at chapter 162, Kamiki is just completely broken because he misses Ai so much.

But… this character was so kind. He was really, really kind.

When I first heard Fatal, I felt this strange, powerful emotion. It was so strong, desperate, yearning, and full of longing. But what was even stranger was that I didn’t feel like it was selfish.

That’s hard to pull off, right? To care so much, to the point of obsession, to the point where you can’t live without the person, and yet, the song doesn’t come off as selfish at all.

It’s not as aggressive as you’d think. At least not toward the other person. It’s not like the possessive, dehumanizing vibe you get from abusive relationships. The emotion here is different.

That’s why I thought Kamiki could have been the perfect match for Ai, and it felt like Ai really did love him.

Back then, I was so anxious about Kamiki’s relationship with Ai, but after listening to that song, I felt like I understood. These two genuinely cared for each other… I was certain of it. That’s why I had this feeling that Kamiki couldn’t have hurt Ai, and that’s why I drew them so much. I felt I could work with them and I still do.

When Kamiki reminisces about Ai and himself, like in chapter 162, he looks so happy and radiant. It’s consistent with what was shown in chapter 153.

And Ai smiles when she thinks of him too. When Ai imagines a future where they stayed together, that’s what it looks like. Kamiki, a good husband, lovingly watching over their kids, and the two of them smiling together.

So, at least their relationship was like that. They both held such a positive impression of their relationship. They loved each other so much and didn’t want to let go. Both wanted to be together forever. Even though Kamiki went completely mad, what he says in chapter 162 about wanting to feel her forever is the essentially the same as Ai’s wish to be with him forever. That’s the meaning behind his words, but because Ai died, that desire got twisted.

They really could have been happy together. They really did have a good relationship.

Seeing that makes me wonder what’s going on with the story right now, but at the same time, I understand it, and it makes my head hurt.

I mean, he must have loved Ai so much that it drove him crazy.

But his actions don’t match up with his base personality. No matter how much she loved him, Ai couldn’t have loved a man who would kill her children.

That’s why I keep thinking there’s something more going on. I’m sure I’m right—there are so many hints.

[digo3d]

I’ve been so overwhelmed these past days I hardly opened tumblr or breathed near it but you know what - ASKIE TIME

Got any HCs on 1)how the cats react to things that make them anxious in order to calm down, and 2)what is each’s love language/way of showing affection?

Yes I do and I hope everything's chilled out a bit 💃

1.

To be completely Frank, to be completely David even, I don't think T.C. has a single healthy way to get rid of negative emotions or anxiety. I think he just tries to power through it to try and not show any weakness and then he wonders why he keeps biting his tail so much and why he can't catch his breath sometimes.

Benny's usually pretty good at reminding himself that everything will be okay but when his feelings are a bit stronger he'll call his Ma for advice or just to hear her voice. Nothing like a talk with your Ma.

Chooch holds onto his tail and combs through it with his fingers for instant small anxiety relief, and then he usually goes and paints or draws to get rid of the rest of the anxiety or he talks to T.C. or someone else in the gang.

Spook listens to music or meditates for sure, he's probably the best at handling anxiety out of the group due to his 'go with the flow' groove. He's very much an 'it'll all work itself out' guy and usually has to remind T.C. to slow down and just breathe when he's high-strung.

Fancy's a bit like T.C. in the sense that he doesn't have a healthy way to get rid of anxiety, I actually HC him with mild OCD so he ends up pacing around and doing compulsions to get the thoughts to stop. His most frequent one is to twist and pull on his whiskers to 'pull the thoughts out' which sometimes leaves him with less whiskers than before.

Brain just goes and takes a nap. He loves taking naps. He'll walk right up to you and say that a lot of things can be fixed with a good nap. Headache? Nap. Tummyache? Nap. Sad? Nap. Anxious? Nap. He just flumps right on the ground and he's out like a light, problem solved. What a simple little creature.

2. (This might get a bit long fair warning also a bit corny perhaps but what's life without KoRn)

T.C. doesn't really have an outward way of showing affection but I suppose you could say that it's the fact that he knows every member of the gang almost inside and out. Sure some things elude him but he's taken the time to get to know them so well that that in of itself is one of his ways of showing affection. He knows that Benny's favorite TV show is Gunstroke, that Spook crafted his bongos himself, that Brain had part of his tail amputated by the ventriloquist at the circus, etc. You could also say that his way of poking fun at the gang is largely affectionate, as he knows what genuinely upsets them and what doesn't. (He does this with Dibble too but he typically doesn't care whether he upsets him or not.) Ultimately though I think that there's affection in everything that T.C. does for the gang to make sure they're taken care of and happy.

Benny is always complimenting the gang and giving them kind words and words of encouragement. He's the kind of guy who has the confidence to go out of his way to compliment someone just because it makes them smile. He can make a good day great, a fine day good, and a bad day just a little bit better. He might not always know the right thing to say when you're feeling down but he'll be damned if he doesn't try his best. He'll always find something to compliment you about, even just little things like that your eyes are really pretty or that you're wearing cool socks. He's just a happy little guy and making other people happy makes him the happiest little guy in the world.

Chooch's love language is touch to the point where he's almost constantly craving it, he'll rub up on people and get in their personal space like there's no tomorrow. Is he aware of this? Nope, it's entirely an unconscious trait. He's one of those people who'll like keep touching your shoulder if you're having a conversation with him, y'know? If he's told by someone that they don't like being touched he'll do his best to respect that of course but if you don't mind it you will have pink fur all over your clothes for like at least a week. He knows that T.C. usually doesn't like being touched but Benny likes using him as a pillow when they're watching T.V. and he's all over Fancy a lot of the time (while making sure he's not messing up his fur), Spook and him will wrestle, and Brain usually just lays on top of him. He's been told off by a few girlfriends before for this (and also for being clingy in general) but the burning heart craves warmth or however that phrase I probably just made up goes. He gives amazing (if a bit squeezy) hugs.

Spook likes making himself useful and so he'll do favors for you for his way of affection. Like if the dishes need to be done and you've been too busy to do them he'll go and do them for you. He's terrible at doing things for himself but if you ask him to do something most of the time he'll do it (given that he remembers/executive dysfunction doesn't get in his way y'know ADHD junk) because it's easier to do something for someone else than for yourself. Even if you don't have anything that needs to be done currently he'll go and do something for you anyway. This kind of blends into gift giving sort of, he'll go out and buy something for you if he sees that you want it at all so you don't have to go through the trouble of making the trip. (This is usually how Brain ends up with a whole box of muffins.) He just likes making the gang's lives just a little bit easier this way.

Fancy loves just spending time with the gang. Y'ever gone over to a friend's house and you literally just don't do anything other than just be in each other's proximity? Yeah he loves that shit. Whenever he's out with a girl I like to think that he's subconsciously waiting until he can see the gang again. It's in his nature to be the kind of guy who sees someone he's close to in public and be like 'ayyyyy! How you been??' He loves just talking with the fellas as well, pulling schemes with the fellas, just anything with the fellas. He doesn't believe in wasted time so long as it's time spent with someone he loves. He also loves touch but he's not nearly as clingy as Chooch is, he's just a really big fan of hugs. (He gives the best hugs out of the gang. Strong, warm, soft, and he always purrs.)

Brain's is definitely gift-giving, if he finds a neat little rock he'll give it to you because it's sparkly or it's smooth or just because he thinks you'll like it or because it reminded him of you. He also makes sure that if he's giving you a present for your birthday or a holiday that it's something you really wanted or needed. He might not think of a lot of things or get you a lot of things (because usually he winds up on a time crunch because he forgets it's the holiday or your birthday). He wishes he could get you more things but he always hopes you like the things you give him. The gang almost always keeps the little trinkets or gifts he finds and gives to them because it's a nice little reminder that they're always in Brain's heart. He doesn't make things very often but when he does it's always gifted to someone else. This is all probably because of the few gifts he was given as a kitten that he's managed to keep with him and cherish forever (Like his purple cat plushie and his iconic shirt).

Yep there we go I apologize if the grammar or formatting is bad fsr I'm only good at thinking at night when I'm actively sleepy

[scoutofmymind]

Ahh I’m so glad you’ve been able to touch grass and see the sun and YOURE SEEING BEACH HOUSE OMG!!! So excited for you mama scout :)

Also the last Lasan x reader was MMPH omg I loved it!! I’m curious how you write the poly/threesome dynamic so well! Is there a story or experience that inspires you, or is that all raw from your brain?? It’s so good and you capture all the feelings I feel that I would have in that situation! I’m not sure how, but you’ve managed to truly convince me that I’m a famous streamer in a relationship with two big beefy boys and we all kiss and cuddle (even though I’m far from that lol)

I can’t wait 😭 I will of course give a full report after I’m back from the trip. I am truly vibrating with excitement. IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!! I love writing tender stuff as much as I enjoy writing unhinged toxic debauchery. I suppose all of my writing stems from personal experience at some point or another, whether it’s heavily inspired or not — although, I haven’t found myself in any polycules (shockingly), OR being a girlfriend to two beefy streamers, I’ve done just about everything else. When it comes to that particular plot line, I guess I just really dig up how I’d personally feel if I was being attacked on the internet? I mean I’ve read enough shitty comments to be able to assume how that would make me feel if they were directed at me, you know? Like, truly how fucking crazy do you think the internet would go if they had inklings that you were fucking Both Hasanabi and Luigi in this Everyoneisastreamer AU.

So I guess to answer your question… I have a very active imagination and a catalog of personal experiences to draw from, too lmao 😭