#I don’t mean it for realsies!!!

[eddwardtheseventhspacewizard]

Can we bully matpat so he stops making shit videos? It’s that or we kill him.

[pebblezone]

I think she would collect the minions McDonald’s toys

[bookwyrminspiration]

what the fuck is going on in here on this day <- almost done with vol 7

[dreamertrilogys]

i hope jakey dies except i was friends w both of them for 2 yrs b4 they started dating so im a way they’re BOTH jakey to me. equality win

[draculovemp3]

Okayyyy I remember now why s1-2 chase pissed me AWFFFF

[what-even-is-sleep]

We KNOW I’m on break from college cause ya bish is reading for fun again!!!!! (Atm: The Martian by Andy Weir— VERY GOOD!!!)

[sugugasm]

☆ CLICK TO PLAY ! ➜ 450 DEGREES

YOUR LEVEL IS STARTING SOON . . .

level quest : pov ur neighbor is a firefighter, and you love a man in uniform . . just as much as he loves your chocolate chip cookies.

☆ — a message from the developer : hiii i missed uguys sm, i’m so glad to be back for realsies this time :p don’t mind any mistakes or errors & before you read — nsfw content up ahead so pretty please read these warnings !!! strangers to lovers !!! age gap alert ➜ toji is 35 and reader is 25, mentions of sexual themes such as oral, vaginal penetration, pet names such as : sweetheart, angel, baby ofc, princess, honey, etc. usage of sexual terms and usage of terms describing female anatomy, uses she/her pronouns. firefighter! toji x baker! blk fem! reader 333 — word count : 8.0K or 9.0K, i lost track LOL

“fuck . .”

toji cut the engine of his ford pickup and sat for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wash over him. every muscle ached with exhaustion, the double shift of 48 hours catching up to him. he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed instead of snatching a few hours on the lumpy firehouse couch in between calls.

sighing, he grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and levers himself out of the truck. as he turns toward the house, a flash of color across the street quickly catches his attention. his new neighbor — you, out puttering in your postage stamp front yard, wearing a tank top the same vivid coral as the geraniums you were watering and cut-off jean shorts that barely qualified as clothing to any old, bitter bastard.

he’d seen you before. many times. whether it was while leaving for an early session at the gym as you walked your puppy, or his moving day . . where he could barely order around gojo and geto, struggling to tell them where they should place certain boxes due to hearing your alluring giggle coming from the house next door, your curls flowing in the breeze as you gossiped over iced lemonade with mrs. johnson on her porch.

his thoughts are interrupted when you glance toward him, face lighting up with a friendly smile as you spotted him. “hi there! nice to finally see you in the flesh instead of just passin’ headlights at odd hours of the night.”

“sorry about that.” toji hoped his answering smile passed for normal and not serial-killer exhausted. “i’m toji, toji fushiguro. i jus’ moved in last month.”

“well m’ yn. welcome to the neighborhood!” you propped a hand on one cocked hip, thoughtlessly drawing his eye to the thickness of your legs that almost looked golden in the sun lighting.

jesus.

realizing he was staring, he jerks his gaze back to your face, feeling his neck heat up at the idea of you catching on. “thanks. s’ a nice area. quiet.”

“i like to think we're a pretty welcomin’ bunch. in fact . . .” you bite your lip, looking almost shy for a second. “i was plannin’ to do some baking later, as a housewarming gift for all the newbies. any requests? cookies, muffins, scones? i make a mean cinnamon roll too.”

an unexpected warmth kindled in toji’s chest at the kindness of the offer. even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, he couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something nice for him. sadly, baked goods didn't really tend to hold up well on 24-hour shifts.

“that’s really sweet of you, thanks. i love a good chocolate chip cookie, but i’ll happily be your guinea pig for anything.”

“sounds like a plan.” you graced him with another one of those classic, southern hospitality miles. “i’ll surprise you. they’ll be over before you know it!”

“looking forward to it. i better let you get back to . .” he waves a hand vaguely at the riot of flowers on your lawn, colors and smells galore.

“oh, right. see you soon then. welcome home!” with a small wave, you bend to retrieve the watering can, giving him an unobstructed view of her perky ass in those obscenely small shorts.

strangling a groan, toji spun on his heel and double-timed it into the house before you caught him ogling you like a creep. so much for a quiet neighborhood, he thought ruefully as the door shut behind him. you were gonna’ be one hell of a distraction, though some traitorous part of him looked forward to the temptation. it’d been way too long since he'd been around a pretty girl. maybe that's what all this edginess was - his libido waking up and taking notice after a long dry spell.

well, he'd just have to keep any wayward urges in check. no matter how mouthwatering you looked in tiny cutoffs, you were practically a decade younger and a neighbor, at that. off limits. he’d accept your baked goods, enjoy a little innocent flirting, but anything more was out of the question.

resolved, he headed for the shower, already counting the minutes until he could taste whatever delights you were whipping up for him.

the next morning, toji was on his second cup of coffee, basking in the rare luxury of an empty day ahead with no responsibilities, when the doorbell chimed. he opened it to find you, juggling a huge wicker basket with an equally enormous smile. the sweet scent of sugar, vanilla and chocolate wafted out to tease his nostrils so blissfully, just like how your sheer presence teased . . . other parts of him.

“g’mornin’,” you chirped. “i come bearing gifts from the sugar fairy.”

“so i smell . .” his mouth waters as he relieves you of the basket and ushers you inside, noting how your flowered sundress set off your peaches-and-cream personality. no shorts today, but the dress was nearly as enticing as it grasped on to your curves. he wondered if your skin would taste as good as you smelled, then mentally slapped himself.

down boy.

“i hope you don't mind me just droppin’ by like this. i wanted to catch you before you got busy.” your smile faltered slightly as you glanced around the spartan space with its generic bachelor furniture and decided lack of personal touches. “if s’ not a good time . .”

toji set the basket on the coffee table and turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. “you came to my house bearin’ gifts of dessert. trust me, it's never gonna’ be a bad time. i may actually make some sort of sugar delivery beacon to summon you in the future.”

your laugh sounded a little relieved. “aww cute, sounds like my kind of bat signal. i’ll have to get you a spotlight shaped like a cupcake.”

“make it a cookie and you've got yourself a deal.” he grinned at you. “can i interest you in some coffee to go with whatever magic you've got in there? smells incredible.”

“coffee would be great, thank you.”

he led the way into the kitchen, noting how you took in details like the depressing lack of clutter and decoration. the only personal items were a handful of framed photos stuck to the fridge - him and his siblings as kids, his parents' wedding portrait, shots of fishing trips with his buddies — one with snow-white hair and the other with black. it struck him how sterile the space was, more like a way station than a home.

you didn't comment on it, instead you just leaned a hip on the counter and watched him pour a darkened substance into a ‘worlds worst morning person’ mug. there’s a comforting silence as he catches a whiff of your light perfume over the powerful espresso aroma - something floral and citrusy. it suited you.

“i wasn't sure what kind of treats you'd like, so i made a sampler of my greatest hits,” you say brightly. at his gesture, you unpack the basket, setting containers and various utensils on the table. “okay so . . we’ve got triple chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, apple cinnamon scones, and my famous brown butter cinnamon rolls.”

“good lord,” toji shook his head in awe. “you made all this yesterday? after we spoke? do you even sleep?”

you laugh and accept the steaming mug he offered. “who needs sleep when there's sugar? besides, baking relaxes me. i love seeing people enjoy my creations.”

as if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and you bit your lip against a smile. “sounds like someone's ready for a taste test. don’t be shy . . dig in.”

toji didn't need to be told twice. he selected a cinnamon roll, still warm from the oven, and bit in with a moan that would've been beyond embarrassing if his mouth wasn't full of heaven. “shit . . think i jus’ found my religion.”

you giggled that giggle that’d been stuck in his head since the day he heard it. “the cinnamon rolls tend to inspire a cult-like devotion. you haven't even tried em’ with the cream cheese frosting yet.”

he halted with the pastry halfway to his mouth for another rapturous bite. “there’s frosting too?”

in answer, you pulled a container from the basket with a flourish. “i figured you could handle adding your own so it didn't get soggy.”

“you’re an angel.” he slathered a generous amount of fluffy white frosting on the roll, not even caring that he probably looked like an overexcited kid.

watching him take another blissful bite, you cradled your coffee mug in both hands. “soo . . what d’you do that keeps you gettin’ home at such odd hours? i promise m’ not stalking you, but it's a quiet street. hard not to notice the comings and goings.”

toji washed down the sticky-sweet mouthful with a swig of coffee. “i’m a firefighter. we work 24-hour shifts, so my schedule can be pretty unpredictable."

interest sparked in your eyes. “really? that’s so cool! i bet you have some amazing stories.”

“eh. a few,” he allowed. truthfully he tried not to dwell on some of the things he'd seen, the memories that still occasionally jolted him awake in a cold sweat during the night. “it’s rewarding work, but not exactly a picnic for the social life.”

you give him a sympathetic look over the rim of her mug. “i can imagine. is that why you moved? needed a fresh start?”

“somethin’ like that. the job costed me my marriage a couple years back. got tired of walkin’ around the old place alone, so i thought a change of scenery might do me good.”

change of scenery in deed. toji even went as far as to relocate to a different state after his divorce with his wife. even the landscaping around the city had become too much of a heartache. what was once a happy, sensual marriage quickly turned sour the moment toji began working more. the position as chief hadn’t sounded that horrible in his head, but if he knew he’d come home one night - the clock reading exactly 3:17 am, to an unrecognizable man fast asleep in his bed, naked next to his wife, that that position could’ve waited. could’ve been passed on.

there’s a silent second between you two, your face still, “i-im so sorry,” you say softly, and toji feels relief when he sees that your eyes were warm with understanding, free of the pity he'd come to dread whenever his divorce came up in any other conversation he’d have with someone who didn’t know him.

he shrugged. “it is what it is. we married too young, grew apart. my hours didn't help. no hard feelings though.” he mustered up a wry smile. “what about you? you’re a little young to be living the retired grandma life, baking up a storm in the 'burbs.”

you grin, allowing him to lighten the mood. “hey, hey, hey, this grandma can party with the best of em’! fyi, i stayed up past 10 last saturday watching bad girls club.”

toji clutches his chest in feigned shock. “damn, so scandalous! what was the special occasion?”

“all have you know . . i was trying to perfect a new macaron recipe. passionfruit with dark chocolate ganache. they’re a fickle mistress though - one minute too long in the oven and they're as dry as bones.”

“sounds like bakin’ is more than jus’ a hobby for you,” he observed.

you toy with your mug. “it’s my whole life, really. i’m in my second year of culinary school, specializing in pastry arts. when i graduate, i’m hoping to open my own bakery. somewhere people feel welcome and cared for. a safe space, i suppose.” he stares, and you duck your head with an embarrassed laugh. “sorry for the tangent . . it probably sounds so silly.”

“not at all.” toji found himself impressed by the passion and dedication evident in your voice. you had a dream and you were going after it. he remembered that feeling. before the reality of adulthood had started chipping away at his own youthful idealism.

he wanted to say something to encourage you, to protect that light shining in your eyes for as long as possible. “for what it's worth, i think you're gonna’ be amazing,” he told you seriously, holding your gaze. “if this morning’s haul is any indication, you'll have lines around the block.”

you shield your smiling face sweetly. “that’s kind of you to say. i appreciate the vote of confidence. speaking of . .” you hesitate, then forge ahead. “m’ actually working on developing an original signature recipe for my final. multiple components, flavors, textures. the works.”

“sounds ambitious,” he said, eyebrows raised. “what’d you have in mind?”

your eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the question, the thought of genuine curiosity making your heart flutter. “deconstructed black forest cake. dark chocolate cake, kirsch-soaked cherries, vanilla bean whipped cream. i wanna’ play with it, update it. maybe turn it into a trifle or a parfait of some sort.”

toji was no culinary expert. hell - he didn’t even know what half of those things were, but even he could tell you were on to something special. “that’s incredible, yn. lemme’ guess - you need a guinea pig?”

you bite your lip nervously, smile turning impish. “i didn't wanna’ impose, but since you offered the other day . . how would you like to be my official taste-tester? i can't really pay you, but you'll get free rein to sample every variation.”

“where do i sign up?” he was only half joking. even if your creations turned out to be awful, which he highly doubted, any excuse to spend more time with you sounded like a win.

you laugh. “i think i can waive the usual application process on account of the fact that you're doing me a huge favor. plus, it means you won't be able to avoid me constantly showing up at your door to force-feed you desserts.”

“oh no. however will i cope.” he feigned a put-upon sigh.

you shot him a look of amused reproof as she packed up the empty containers. “try to contain your disappointment. i promise to space out surprise sugar bombings. wouldn’t wanna’ make you sick of me or my baking."

“i don’t really think i ever could . . to be honest,” he declared firmly. on impulse, he reaches out to still your fluttering hands with his own. your skin was so soft and warm, sending a tingle zipping up his arm. your breath pauses at the contact and your eyes flew to his, startled.

“i mean it,” he said, voice gone low and intent as he tries to infuse sincerity into every word. “i can't imagine ever getting tired of you. or your company.”

for a suspended moment you just stare at each other in silence. then you swallow, sounding a little breathless as you replied, “likewise. m’ really glad you moved in, toji.”

“me too,” he said roughly. and though he knew he shouldn't, that he was venturing into dangerous territory, he allowed himself to stroke the delicate bones of your wrist with his thumb. just once, to feel your shiver lightly in response. then he released you and stepped back, moving to hold the door open for you in unspoken signal.

“i’ll get out of your hair now,” you murmured as you gathered the empty basket with hands that trembled just slightly. “but i’ll see you soon? for taste testing purposes, of course.”

“absolutely,” he confirmed. “anytime. y’know where to find me.”

with a final nod and smile, you slipped out the door. he watched you go, admiring the sway of your hips, the bounce of your hair, already counting the minutes until he'd see you again.

you were gonna’ end him, so so sweetly too., he realized with a trace of fatalism.

but what a way to go, huh? death by cinnamon rolls.

the day of the first official tasting arrived, and toji found himself unaccountably nervous as he approached your door. he felt a like an awkward kid picking up his prom date, palms sweaty and heart knocking around his ribs. which was ridiculous. this wasn't a date. just two neighbors getting together to sample some sweets. totally casual.

never mind that he'd changed his shirt three times, vacillating between wanting to look nice for you and not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. he’d finally settled on a plain black tee and his least disreputable pair of jeans, adding a hint of cologne as an afterthought.

now, standing on your stoop, he wished he'd brought something. flowers maybe — lillie’s like the ones in your garden, or perhaps wine. did people bring wine to taste testing sessions? probably not. you’d most likely think he was a presumptuous idiot.

shaking his head at his own weird bout of nerves, he raised his hand to knock. before his knuckles could connect, the door swung open to reveal you, looking adorably pretty and flustered. you were wearing a frilly pink apron over a gauzy white sundress scattered with tiny red cherries. your hair was bundled on top of your head in a haphazard knot, loose curls escaping to dance around your swelled cheeks. a dusting of cocoa powder streaked one of them.

“toji - oh, you’re right on time! m’ runnin’ a bit behind, so sorry. come on in.” you stepped back to let him enter and he caught a blend of tantalizing scents - rich chocolate, sweet cherries, warm vanilla, and underneath, the subtle floral musk that was purely you. it made his head swim and his stomach clench with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with the promise of dessert.

he followed you into the kitchen, blinking a bit as he took in the transformation. when he'd helped you carry in groceries a few days ago, the room had been tidy and quaint, with cheerful yellow walls and kitschy retro appliances. now every surface was strewn with baking detritus - bowls, whisks, spatulas, piping bags. the air was hazy with a fine mist of flour and powdered sugar, swirling in the slanting sunlight.

incongruously delicate paper doilies serving as placemats were scattered with miniature cakes, puddles of sauce, and billows of snowy cream. it looked like a fancy bakery had exploded all over the place.

“as you can see, i’ve been experimenting with a few different iterations of the concept,” you said with a small smile, waving a hand at the sugary chaos. “couldn’t settle on just one. i thought i’d get your input n’ then we could narrow it down together.”

“i’m at your service,” he told you gallantly, skating his gaze over the counter. “i’ll warn you though, my palate isn't exactly refined. you might end up with the bland 'it all tastes good' as feedback.”

you giggled. “i’ll take it. okay, let's start basic.” you gestured for him to take a seat at the flour-dusted table and set a plate in front of him. on it perched a generous slice of cake, glossy with ganache, accompanied by a scarlet swoosh of what he assumed was the cherry compote. a dollop of whipped cream, flecked with black speckles, completing the overall masterpiece look.

toji quickly picked up the fork and took a bite, closing his eyes to focus on the flavors. the cake was intensely chocolate, the ganache dark and silky. tart-sweet cherries burst on his tongue, balanced by the subtle fragrance of the vanilla-specked cream.

“damn,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “fuckin’ fantastic, yn.”

you beam, looking relieved. “yeah? the cake recipe took a while to get right. i wanted something more . . . complex than a standard chocolate cake, so i used black cocoa powder to really amp up the flavor. n’ i even added a little coffee to enhance the chocolate.”

“s’ a winner,” he assured you. “i dunno’ how you could improve on it, honestly.”

“oh i have a few ideas,” your smile turned mysterious. “you haven't seen anything yet.”

over the next hour, you walked him through several variations. chocolate cake layered with cherry compote and kirsch-soaked chocolate cake crumbs, topped with cocoa whipped cream. dark chocolate and cherry bread pudding drizzled with cherry coulis. chocolate panna cotta with drunken cherries and cherry gelée . . . and toji sampled them all, humming with pleasure while you watched him anxiously. your initial nerves seemed to melt away as you lost yourself in describing the ins and outs of each dish - the technical challenges, the way certain flavors complemented or contrasted, ideas for garnishes and plating.

he found himself captivated by your intensity, the way your whole being lit up when you talked about your craft. it was more than just a job or a hobby for you . . . it was a calling. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that kind of soul-deep passion for anything. couldn’t take his eyes off the way your slender hands sketched shapes in the air, punctuating your words. delicate, clever hands that created so much beauty.

“earth to toji,” teased, waving one of those mesmerizing hands in front of his face. “did i lose you? too much of a sugar crash?”

toji blinked and refocused on your amused expression, realizing he'd been caught woolgathering like an idiot. “sorry, just slipped into a brief dessert coma. what were you saying?”

“i was asking what you think of this last one. it’s the more . . . wildcard of the bunch.” you pushed a small glass toward him. it looked like a miniature trifle, with layers of cake and cream, a vivid cherry layer in the middle, and a fan of shaved chocolate on top.

he dug in and had to suppress an absolutely obscene moan. the combination was incredible - velvety smooth, creamy, rich, and fruity, with a kick from what had to be a generous glug of kirsch. sweet but not cloying, a sophisticated twist on a classic.

“i think we have a winner,” he managed, not even caring that his voice came out husky. “if you're going for adding a 'wow' factor, this is it.”

you stand on your tippy-toes, looking hopeful. “you think? i couldn't decide if it was too out there. verrines aren't exactly traditional black forrest cake material.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s a showstopper. interesting to look at, fun to eat, n’ the flavor is phenomenal.” he scraped the glass clean with his spoon, not wanting to waste a drop.

your smile could've lit up the city block. “thank you, toji. you don't know how much it means to me, you bein’ here. lettin’ me talk your ear off and stuff you with treats. it really . . helps a lot."

“believe me, it's my pleasure,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. “i haven't had this much fun in . . i can't even remember how long. i like seein’ you in your element.”

you both just grin goofily at each other for a moment, the air feeling thicker. then you hopped up and began clearing the table, stacking dishes and bustling around the small space.

“y’know i feel bad, you feedin’ me all these goodies without me contributing anything,” toji said, rising to help. “at least lemme’ take you out for a meal that isn't 90% butter and sugar. you must be sick of cookin’, day in and day out.”

you slanted him a glance, tucking a stray curl behind one ear. “m’ not, actually. it never feels like a chore. but i . . wouldn't say no to dinner out. if you're sure you don't mind.”

mind? he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you, and here you were gift wrapping one for him. “i’d love to,” he said firmly. “s’ the least i can do. and i’d like to hear more about this final project of yours. when do you present it?”

“next month,” a shadow crossed your expressive face, there and gone in a blink. “m’ tryin’ not to think too much about it yet. one step at a time, y’know?”

he recognized that look. the flickering uncertainty, the hint of stage fright. he’d worn it himself, back before his first real fire. wanting so badly to prove himself, to show what he was made of, terrified of choking.

impulsively, he reached for your hand, halting her flitting movements. your fingers curled reflexively around his, warm and strong. “look at me . . . you got this. you’re a star, you're gonna’ impress the hell outta’ your professors.”

you swallowed hard, eyes searching his. looking for the belief you couldn't quite muster on your own. “i hope so. i want it so much, toji. this . . all of it. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

“then don't let fear hold you back,” he told you gently. “don’t doubt yourself. you have a gift, mama. i know m’ a dumb scrub who can barely tell a macaron from a macaroon, but even i can see that you were born for this shit.”

your hand squeezed his, almost painfully tight. from both the nickname rolling off his tongue so elegantly and the encouragement that you sometimes failed to receive from your closest peers. “thank you, seriously,” you whispered. “for believin’ in me, i guess. it means a lot to me . . .”

he squeezes back, thumb sweeping over your knuckles. he had a sudden, wild urge to haul your into his arms. to soothe the worry from your brow with his lips, to show you with his hands and body and breath how special you were. how much he'd come to care for you in such a short time.

but he couldn't. however strong the pull, however much he wanted to cross that line, he knew it would be a mistake. you weren’t for him, this shining woman with stardust in her eyes. and he was in no position to offer you anything real. he needed to remember that.

so he contented himself with a soft “anytime,” and released your hand, stepping back to a safer distance. “now, about that dinner. friday work for you?”

you blinked, then hitched your smile back into place. it wobbled a bit at the edges, but he pretended not to notice. “friday’s great. s’ a . . . plan.”

even through the awkwardness, the unspoken words clogging the air between you, a little thrill went through him. it’s a date, you’d almost said. and god help him, he wished it was — that’s why you settled on making plans to try the new, cozy italian restaurant that had opened downtown, the one you’d mentioned wanting to visit after a neighborhood watch meeting one night. it was intimate . . . romantic. toji walked home with a lightness in his step, an unfamiliar flutter in his gut. he was in trouble, he knew he was. you were trouble in ways he hadn't encountered before. you made him feel too much.

more than he ever had.

but he was in too deep to back out now. all he could do was try to keep a clear head, keep things casual and platonic. be your friend and supporter, nothing more. his life, his job . . there was no room for complications.

even if he was beginning to suspect it was already far too late.

the days leading up to friday passed in a blur of anticipation and nerves, though toji did his best to ignore both. ‘it isn’t a date. she’s not into you. this isnt a fuckin’ date . . .’ he reminded himself sternly, no matter how much his idiot heart wanted to pretend otherwise. just dinner between neighbors. a thank you for your tireless taste testing efforts. nothing to get all hot n’ bothered about.

so then why the fuck had he changed outfits half a dozen times before settling on the nicest button-down he owned and a new pair of dark wash jeans? why had he agonized over whether to bring flowers or wine or both . . again? this was so embarrassing. he was so embarrassing. he’d think being married once would've meant he had at least a little bit of game . . but nope - he had nothing.

taking a deep breath, he knocked on your door at precisely 7pm. when it swung open to reveal you, his lungs almost stopped in their tracks. you looked no less than stunning in a ruffled dress, in the pretty shade of baby-pink, your hair tumbling over your bare shoulders - half up, half down and bumped at the ends. a slim gold chain nestled in the hollow of your throat, shamefully drawing his eyes down to the swells of your titties.

“fuck . .” he said inanely, tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. “m’ so sorry. forgive me, i mean, you look . . absolutely amazing.”

a shy smile curved your lips, brightening your whole face up. “thanks . . so do you, toji.” your eyes skimmed over him appreciatively and he fought the urge to preen.

“o-oh, these are for you.” he thrusts the slightly wilted grocery store bouquet at you, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.

but you just smile, cradling the limp blooms like they were something so precious. “how sweet of you! i love daisies. lemme’ jus’ put these in some water and we can go.” you disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple gesture could delight you so thoroughly. damn, you were so lovely. inside and out.

the drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences. toji let you be in control of the radio, secretly charmed by your off-key humming to the cheesy pop songs in rotation on your playlist. he could imagine countless nights like this, aimless drives with no destination in mind, just content to be in your company with no one to bother.

and dinner was a laughter-filled affair, trading bites of pasta and garlicky bread, arguing playfully over the merits of various desserts. you entertained him with customer service horror stories from your barista days, confessing your penchant for ‘accidentally’ giving rude patrons decaf.

in turn, toji found himself sharing more than he usually did - funny anecdotes about his buddies at the firehouse, his worries about his little sister starting college in the fall, even a bit about his dad. the words came without effort, drawn out by your natural warmth and empathy.

he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed anyone's company so effortlessly.

when the check came, he wouldn't let you even reach for it. you rolled your eyes but allowed him to pay, primly informing him you were getting the next one. his stomach flipped at the unthinking promise of a next time.

you then lingered over coffee and dessert - the restaurant's version didn't even hold a candle to your black forest verrines, but you were too polite to say so - neither wanting the evening to end. toji watched you lick chocolate from your spoon, entranced by the tiny pink flash of your tongue. wishing he could lean in and taste the sweetness of your mouth. a pleasant shiver chased over his skin, heat simmering low in his belly. he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you - this maddening mix of tender and carnal, the urge to both protect and possess.

“mmm,” you purred appreciatively, pulling the spoon from your mouth with an obscene pop. “whoever said that chocolate isn’t better than sex clearly hadn't tasted chocolate like this.”

toji swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat. “playin’ with fire are we?” he manages to rasp, fingers clenching around his mug.

you placed the spoon delicately on your empty plate, fingers lingering just long enough to draw his attention to their graceful dance. “who says i’m playin’, handsome?” you quip.

he was so fucked. so. totally. fucked.

afterwards, he walked you to your door, hands shoved deeply n’ awkwardly into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like reaching for your hand. you then hovered on the stoop, the sultry summer night pressing in close.

“i had fun tonight,” you softly. in the light spilling from your living room window, your eyes were luminous. hopeful. “we should really do it again sometime.”

“we should,” he agreed, mouth dry. he couldn't look away from your face, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, the dark feathering of your lashes. you swayed closer, tipping your face up to his, and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. god, you were killing him.

it took every ounce of willpower to step back, to force a chuckle past the ache in his chest. “well i should let you get your beauty sleep. early start tomorrow, right?” your smile faltered, a brief tightening around your eyes hinting at disappointment. he almost caved right then, almost said to hell with his reservations and dragged you into his arms the way he'd been dying to do all night.

but he couldn't. not when he had nothing more to offer you than heartache.

“right,” you murmured. “beauty sleep. so important for . . . baking.” you fumbled for your keys, not quite meeting his gaze. “i’ll see you round’ then.” he could only watch you retreat into the house, torn between relief at the bullet dodged and an overwhelming sense of loss.

wearily, he turned to go back to his own quiet home. he’d done the right thing. the smart thing. so why did it feel so damnably hollow?

avoidance was the order of the day after that near-miss. though it pained him, toji forced himself to keep some distance, to not make up flimsy excuses to show up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. no more dessert development sessions, no matter how much he craved the sight of you gushing and twirling over your latest creations. no more cute, little dinners with furtive hand holding under the table.

he threw himself into work with even more zeal than usual, pulling extra shifts and helping out with the neverending station chores. if the guys ribbed him about his sudden devotion to alphabetizing the equipment room or polishing the engine to a blinding shine, he shrugged it off. it was loads better than going home to an empty house haunted by what-ifs.

he ached to see you though. sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of you catering to your garden or heading off to the market, and his fingers would itch with the urge to go to you, to close the seemingly unbridgeable gap between you both with long strides and strong arms. more than once he'd picked up his phone to call you, thumb hesitating over your smiling face in his contacts until he cursed and tossed the phone aside.

it was for the best, he told himself firmly. you had your whole life ahead of you - school and internships, building your dream from the ground up. he’d only get in the way, bog you down with his everlasting issues and cynicism. he wouldn't, couldn't be the dead weight holding you back.

even if letting you go felt like tearing himself in half.

he should've known you wouldn't let him slink away so easily. that for all your sweetness, you were just as stubborn as he was. you’d never been one to give up on the things - or people - you wanted.

which bring us to now . . you ambushing him on his way home from a grueling 48-hour shift, looking unfairly pretty and indignant as you marched across the street to plant yourself in front of his truck. he barely bit back a groan, exhaustion and longing a potent cocktail in his bloodstream.

“hey, stranger,” you said archly, fine brows drawn together in a scowl. “long time no annoy.”

he cut the engine and climbed out, suddenly self-conscious about his unwashed, smoke-saturated state. “hi, yn. how’s it going?”

“ah, y’know. jus’ workin’ myself to the bone, trying to perfect this dessert that's only the culmination of my entire academic career thus far. while also attempting to figure out how i mysteriously pissed off my friend to the point of complete radio silence.” your arms crossed over your chest, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes, “so yeah . . the usual.”

guilt lodged under his breastbone, sharp and corroding. he’d never meant to upset you, to make you think any of this was at all your fault. “shit, yn. i’m sorry . . i didn’t mean to ignore you, i’ve just been so -”

“busy . .” you finished for him, mouth flattening. “mhm, i’ve noticed. so busy you ignored all my calls n’ texts - missed our dinner the other night too. you’ve been practically living at the station lately.”

he grimaced, one hand scrubbing over his stubbled jaw. he’d never been any good with words, with making excuses. especially when faced with eyes that seemed to see right through his every defense, “you’re right. i’ve been avoiding you. but not because of anything you did. i jus’ . . needed some space to clear my head.”

your arms tightened, gaze dropping to the oil-stained pavement. “i thought we were having fun,” you said quietly. “gettin’ to know each other. but if i misread things, if i made you uncomfortable in any way i really am so sorr . . .”

“no.” he interrupted fiercely, taking an involuntary step closer. close enough to smell the light, citrusy scent of you, to see the faint mascara smudges of sleeplessness under your eyes. “you didn't misread anything, yn. these past weeks, spendin’ time with you . . . s’ been amazing. the most fun i’ve had in years, if i’m being honest.”

confusion clouded your expression. “then why?”

“because m’ a goddamn mess,” he bit out, the truth clawing its way up his throat. “because you’re brilliant, and you’re goin’ places . . n’ i wouldn’t be able to give you my time in the way that i know you more than deserve. i wanna smell muffins in the mornin’ . . not the smell of musty men and water hoses.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting his stuff on the hood of his car, “i jus’,” he started, “i’ve done the dating thing, alright? the marriage thing too, y’know that. i jus’ . . i cant afford to lose another person in my life that i care about — not when i’ve come this far to prevent it n’ when they’re as sweet and pretty, and as kind as you.” you stand in silence, letting him vent, “i’m not perfect. m’ terrible at cooking, i sing in the shower, n’ on top of all that i fuckin’ snore like a grizzly bear. ya’ still want me now?”

you took a step forward, hand coming up to fist in the front of his t-shirt. he inhaled sharply at the sudden press of your soft curves against his hard planes, the way your gaze dropped to his mouth.

“yeah, you grumpy old fuck . . i still want you,” you whispered fiercely. “mess, snores and all.”

he softened as you pressed a kiss onto his cheek, gentle and warm with truce, “i have my own damn baggage. y’think thats stoppin’ me from goin’ after what i want? no. so jus’ stop bein’ such an asshole n’ kiss me alread - mmph!” — that was it. that was the straw that’d broken the camel’s back. with a muttered curse, his control had finally snapped. he hauled you flush against him, one arm banding around your waist as the other hand sank into your hair, cradling the back of your head. you made a soft, needy sound and surged up on tiptoe, sealing your mouth to his.

the first touch of your lips was electric, a livewire straight to his core. they were exactly as soft and sweet as he'd imagined, moving over his with an urgency that matched his own. he angled his head to slant his mouth more firmly over your, licking at the seam of your lips as you licked on the scar on his.

he swept his tongue into your mouth, stroking over yours, swallowing the low moan that vibrated in her throat. you tasted like peppermint and the vaguest hint of sugar, an addictive flavor he already knew he'd never get enough of. your arms twined around his neck, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his nape as you pressed impossibly closer.

dimly, he registered the whoops and catcalls of a passing group of neighbors, but he couldn't bring himself to care. let em’ gawk. the whole damn neighborhood could come out to watch and he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away from your sweetness.

he was a man possessed.

the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. toji backed you up against his front door, hands roaming greedily over your curves as he pressed the hard length of his body into your soft warmth. you made yet another sound into his mouth, lifting one leg to wrap around his hip, opening yourself up to him.

he tore his lips from yours only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin from the sweat of the hot summer sun. “fuck . . i want you,” he growled against your pulse point. “wanna’ touch you, taste you, feel you. if you’ll let me . . of course.”

“wow, such a gentlemen,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “please fuckin’ do, toji.” patience fraying, he fumbled for his keys and somehow managed to get the door open without releasing you. you stumbled over the threshold, shedding clothes haphazardly between searing kisses - your flimsy blouse fluttering to the floor, followed by smoke stained his t-shirt.

toji walked you backwards down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut before tossing you onto the bed. he followed you down, covering your entire frame with his own, reveling in the feel of all your bare skin finally against him. you were a vision in the spill of afternoon light, curls fanned across his pillow, pink lace bra and panties a tantalizing contrast to your brown skin.

he took a moment just to admire you, committing every detail to memory. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted on shallow breaths. heavy-lidded eyes hazy with want and something deeper, more tender.

“been dreamin’ about you, princess. shit - you’re so gorgeous.” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe with each word, “so pretty, so beautiful, so smart.”

you shivered, fingernails raking over his shoulders, “nngh - c’mon stoppit, toji . .” growling low in his throat, he captured your lips in a nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue. large hands cupping your full titties, calloused thumbs rubbing your nipples into stiff peaks. and you arched into his touch with a moan, shameless in your pleasure.

“someone’s eager, hm?”

breaking the kiss, he began to work his way down your body, mapping every dip and curve with lips and teeth and tongue. he paid thorough attention to your titties, laving at the dark-brown nipples until you were panting and squirming beneath him.

“b-baby, please . .” you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair to urge him lower.

he only chuckled darkly against your flesh. “patience, sweetheart. m’ not goin’ anywhere. let me love you.”

true to his word, he set about exploring you - kissing a meandering path down your ribs and belly, dipping his tongue into your navel just to hear you gasp. strong hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further and further apart so he could settle more comfortably between them.

hooking his fingers in your lacy panties, he dragged the scrap of fabric down your legs. “fuck yeah, look at you. so wet for me already. look at this pussy . .”

you mewled as he licked a broad stripe up your slit, circling your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. he sealed his lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, fingers delving into your soaked entrance, curling to find that special spot inside you.

“o-ooh my god — yes!” your back bowed off the bed, a vibration spreading down your chest as he worked you higher. he paid close attention to your most tender skin, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, targeted flicks. crooking his fingers just so, he rubbed and rubbed until he found — “ah f-fuck!” your g-spot, feeling your thighs start to tremble around his head.

“thas’ it, bunny - cum on my tongue. i wanna’ see it all, mama. c’mon, i know you can do it,” the filthy words combined with the relentless stimulation quite literally pushed you over the edge . . and you came with a sharp cry, gushing your juices all over his lips and chin. he groaned at the taste of you, lapping up every last drop, addicted already.

while you were still quivering and coming down from your high, toji fumbled blindly for the nightstand drawer. he managed to retrieve a condom without taking his eyes off of you. ripping open the packet with his teeth, he sat back on his knees to quickly sheath himself.

you took the opportunity to admire his body, running appreciative hands over his muscular chest and abdomen. he was all tanned skin and chiseled muscle, a sparse trail of dark hair pointing the way to his impressive erection. it jutted from a thatch of coarse curls, thick and flushed nearly purple, the bulbous head glistening with excitement.

wrapping your fingers around his rigid length, you stroked him base to tip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke so that the condom slips right back off. toji grunted, hips bucking into your touch as you rubbed your thumb over the leaking slit. you pause, your mouth watering as you begin to lower your head down. you press the side of your face against his thigh, peering up at him with batting lashes and a poked lip. your ass is arched - high in the air and wiggling as if you just wanted him to smack it.

that’s when you began slapping his heavy dick against your cheek, repeatedly, “so big, baby,” you whisper, now positioning your face to where his cock could sit right on top of it - “can i put it in m’mouth? please . .?”

“yn you don’t have to -”

“i want to.”

toji looked down at you once more, the look of want in your eyes . . . how could he resist?

he gently grabs the side of your neck, firm but not firm enough to cause pain, his other hand curling around the base of his cock as he whispered, “open wide. tongue out,” biting his lip as he braces himself for the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him.

that’s when your wet tongue dances out tentatively, tracing the ridge of his head before retreating back to safety inside your mouth. it was clear that you were just as lust filled as him. toji could feel himself pulsing with need as you took him in deeper and deeper, a low groan escaping him, “shit, doll - got it all to fit . . good girl.” your hands gripped his hips tightly, nails digging into his skin as you bobbed your head up and down. toji swore he could fall in love with the simple, yet beautifully disgusting sound of your throat — gawk, gulp, gawk! ugh, they were such disgusting noises - some gagging here, some moaning there, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. you were slobbing, spitting, and choking on his dick and the only thing getting in your way from taking him whole was the fact that his size was still fairly new to you.

“sss’ ooh fuck - b-baby . . yn -” he hisses, both your eyes and his rolling to the back of your heads as you continue to gulp him down, spit trickling down to your tits as they jiggled to the rhythm of your mouth. each and every glide against your tongue was starting to overpower him, and before he knew it, if you didn’t stop he was bout’ to —

“cum . . m’gonna cum! m’fuckin’ cumming - asshhit . .” he groaned, eyes tightly closing as you continued to deepthroat him the best you could, “don’t stop, keep suck - y-yes . .” it was a hassle - a big one, but the taste of him warm cum painting your throat felt like a sweet reward.

almost sweeter than your baked goods.

whining and still aching to suck on him some more, toji pulls you off in fear of shaking more than he already was — and the sight of you with his cum dripping out of your mouth only did the complete opposite.

“uh, well then . . how’d i do?” you say shyly, as if you hadn’t just completely slutted out your mouth for your next door neighbor.

a surprised bark of laughter escaped him even as his cock jerked at you eagerly. “don’t exile me, but that mouth . . shit, might be better than your cookies. not gonna’ lie, sweetheart . .” toji growled, and you pout as he’s prowling back over you. you then watch him slowly, his fingers unexpectedly plunging back into your pussy as he scoops some of your wetness onto the pad of them before pulling them back out. he fists the base and tip of himself, smothering his cock in your juices as lubricant as he teases your entrance with a few pats n’ nudges. fuckin’ tease. he kept on until you were angrily swatting his chest to put the damn thing in already.

who could blame your lust? after all . . you’d been dreaming about it for weeks now.

yet again, he snags another rubber, strokes a little, and once he’s in, “oh s-shit that pussy's tight, baby . .” he’s in. you moaned in tandem, dick snuggling into your tight walls inch by excruciating inch. you were warm and wet and perfect around him, gripping him like a silken vise. it was magical, just like you - but the look on your face . . oh that look, almost seemed like you wanted to be broken. with your arms above your head, your titties swaying against your chest and your whines now hoarse n' pleading — he kinda wanted to break you too.

toji started with slow, deep strokes, mindful of your tightness and his considerable girth. he didn't want to hurt you, wanted to savor every clench and flutter around his aching cock. wanted this to last, to burn this moment into his brain forever.

“f-feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me,” he gritted out, hips rolling in a lazy figure eight that had you keening. “y’so wet, honey . . dick feel that good?”

“toji,” you whimpered brokenly, fingernails scoring down his flexing back. “more, please . . need it harder . .”

and how could he deny you anything when you begged so sweetly? bracing his weight on his forearms, he obliged, snapping his hips forward with more force. the headboard started to thump against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your writhing bodies.

“like that, baby? hm?” he panted against your throat, sweat beading at his temples as he drove into you again and again, his cock damn near slipping out of you from the slippery speed. “this what you need? me splittin' this pretty pussy open?”

“yes d-daddy . . ” you wailed, back arching like a drawn bow. your cunt was fluttering around him, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. “aah - don't stop, don’t stop, m'so close!”

“shh, i got you,” he promised, shifting the angle of his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust. “gonna’ make this pussy sing for me, gonna’ wring the cum outta’ you 'til you're shakin' on me. you want that?” his filthy words seemed to be your undoing because suddenly you were clenching down on him like a vice, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. your release gushed hot and slick around his pistoning length, drenching his groin and thighs with sweetness.

“f-fuck yeah,” toji choked out, his own rhythm faltering as your rippling walls threatened to milk him dry. “good girl, sweetheart, cream on this dick, lemme’ feel you.” he managed a handful more erratic thrusts before his own orgasm crashed into him like a freight train. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, a hoarse shout muffled into your sweat damped shoulder as he spilled himself into the condom. his cock jerked and twitched with every pulse, vision nearly whiting out with the force of it.

for long moments, you both just shook and gasped, clinging to each other as aftershocks rolled through your bodies. toji's heart was thundering so hard he was sure you could feel it through his sweat-slick chest. he'd never come so hard in his life, never felt so utterly shattered and remade.

you made a soft, satisfied sound as he carefully withdrew from your heat, rolling to the side to dispose of the condom with a quick knot. then he was gathering you close again, palm smoothing up your spine as you burrowed into him with a sigh.

“shit,” you eventually mumbled into the heated skin of his throat. “that was . . .”

“ . . fuckin' heavenly,” he finished roughly, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he felt your answering huff of amusement. “m’ sorry i uh . . came so fast. i don’t usually -”

“did you just apologize to me because my pussy is good?” you teased, dragging your nose along the edge of his stubbled jaw. he could feel the curve of your smile, the unabashed joy, and it settled something deep within him. soothed the ragged pieces he'd thought long broken.

“damn straight,” he agreed, arms tightening around you possessively. “i can die a happy man now.”

“well, you're not allowed to die on me now, toji. you're stuck with me. escape if you can.”

“mm, is that right,” he nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of you - all warm woman and satisfaction.

“mhmm. you're not getting rid of me easily. i still have so many desserts to force on you, so many early morning baking sessions to drag you into . .”

he laughed outright at that, at the sheer exuberance in your voice. “promises, promises.”

“oh i always keep my promises, mister. which reminds me . .” you pushed up on an elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. something that snatched the breath from his lungs. “i seem to remember you saying something about round two . .”

“did i? care to refresh my memory?” he growled, even as he was already rolling you beneath him again, mouth seeking yours. you then feel his palm colliding with your ass in a gentle spank. “what am i gonna’ do with you?”

“everything.” you breathed against his lips, a vow. “anything. i want you, toji. want everything with you.” and fuck, what could he say to that? what could he do but kiss you like a promise, a prayer, and proceed to show you just how much he wanted that too? wanted to give you everything, anything, all he had to offer?

he'd never been a man of many words. but this - loving you with hands and mouth and body, breaking you apart and putting you back together again and again until you were both sweat-soaked and shaking . . this he could do. this he would do for the rest of his life if you'd let him.

“you’ve got me.”

and from the joyous half-sob of his name as he sank back into your pussy, the way your body opened for him like a flower to the sun, he had a feeling you just might too.

there would be time for more words later - time for confessions and plans and mapping out a future he'd never even let himself dream of before. time to make good on promises whispered into heated skin, to build something real and lasting brick by brick. but for now, in the honeyed afternoon light with your legs wrapped around his waist and your heart in his hands . . let himself get lost. let himself drown in sensation and emotion, in this miraculous woman he didn't deserve but who'd chosen him anyway.

from lost to found, in the space of a heartbeat. and all because an angel in a garden had smiled at him across a sunny street and offered up a little piece of heaven. he'd never know what he'd done to deserve you, or this second chance. but he'd spend the rest of his days earning this gift, cherishing it.

cherishing you.

that was a promise. and like his beautiful girl . . toji fushiguro always kept his promises.

©️ SATORUBI - please do not copy, translate, or modify my work without my approval ! thank you for playing . . the challenge has only just begun.

[binothesteptrashcan]

Ok it’s ranking Fives time and I’ve definitely forgotten a couple but now they’re all dead anyway so whatever also Season 4 Spoiler Warning

1.Brisket Five- Iconic. Apparently always wrecking shit for the other Fives and seems to take pride in it. I feel like he was the one who created the commission bc he just has that aura of I Want to Cause Problems. Wish we got a full episode on him and why he’s named Brisket Five and the other shit he wrecked instead of ep 5.

2. Apocalypse Five- I mean he tried to kill Homewrecker Five what more could you want in a man. Only second because he missed.

3.News Paper Five- Great with numbers even by Five standards. Opens up questions about the news paper itself like what timeline is it from? Is it a Five produced newspaper? He is in a timeless zone why is he reading a newspaper? Is it just for the crossword/sudoku? It’s probably just for the crossword/sudoku.

4.Drunk Five- me too buddy me too. Presumably got kicked out of the deli/diner/whatever it was and I hope it was because he saw Homewrecker Five coming and was preparing to get rid of the lowest common denominator.

5.Waiter Five- I don’t trust him no real Five would ever work customer service willingly there’s something else going on but he also serves Homewrecker Five a sandwich without enough sauerkraut and sucky coffee so points for that.

6.Booth Five- Boring. Bland. Might as well be Shitty Exposition Five and his only redeeming quality is that I must assume he was trying to motivate Homewrecker Five by telling him to give up so he would do the opposite and save everyone which clearly backfired.

7.Literally Any Other Five I’ve Missed- idk like Old Man/Technically Mentally Younger Five from seasons past or Baby Five or Pre-Time Travel Five you get the picture.

8. Homewrecker Five- Last and certainly Least what the fuck dude. Why are you like that. Why did you give up on your family your entire life has been about getting back to them and keeping them safe like you didn’t even try? Also why not go get Delores????? why did you not tell Lila about the way home immediately????? What the fuck is wrong with you????? Why are you working for the CIA and how did you not notice your boss was in a fucking cult he had a tattoo????? Fully convinced Five from seasons 1-3 was actually either Brisket Five or Waiter Five and he got fucked over by some cosmic entity and is being forced to work customer service and is currently biding his time before he goes and saves his family for realsies.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[anthurak]

Takeaways from the Volume 9 Epilogue:

--

One thing I really like about Oscar’s ‘If there was anything I wish I could borrow from you…’ monologue is that it laid out/confirmed something I’ve always felt was a major aspect of Oscar’s dynamic with Ruby that I nonetheless feel a lot of the fandom has missed: That Oscar very much sees Ruby as a mentor and an example to follow, and how their dynamic is specifically a foil to what we saw between Ruby and Ozpin. That Ruby acts as a mentor and example to Oscar in the same way Ozpin was to Ruby, and that Ruby is a far BETTER mentor and example to Oscar than Ozpin ever was to her. Which, as an aside, is a dynamic I can’t help but feel a lot of people have been misinterpreting as ‘ship-teasing’ and is one of the main reasons I’ve simply never been able to see Oscar as any kind of viable love-interest to Ruby. Frankly the dynamic of ‘Ruby is the mentor and example to Oscar that Ozpin couldn’t be for her’ is simply so much more INTERESTING than any kind of romance could ever hope to be.

--

Even in animatic form, Winter basically going overdrive on the maiden powers was a sight to behold. And her own monologue had all the self-deprecation we were expecting. Our girl is clearly holding on by a thread and it’s going to be REAL interesting seeing how she reacts and adjusts to her sister not actually being dead. As in, I can imagine a situation where Winter tries to throw herself into a heroic sacrifice with the belief that Weiss would make a better Maiden than her.

Also, Winter’s monologue giving major focus to how Penny is super-super-dead-dead-and-definitely-not-coming-back-for-really-realsies, as she is talking to the sister who she ALSO believes is DEFINITELY also dead? Specifically with the words that Penny is gone, when Penny’s last words to her were that she’d be ‘part of you’?

Yeah, there is no way in hell we’ve seen the last of Penny XD

--

The CROWN. Like it was only a few shots, but as someone who read the CFVY Books (which you totally should if you haven’t, they’re great), holy shit I was NOT expecting them to pop up here.

I mean, in hindsight it makes perfect sense that they’d be involved in Volume 10. They’re basically Vacuo’s equivalent to Vale’s criminal element and the White Fang splinter faction as Salem’s co-opted insurgency group, with Jax and Gillian joining Roman, Adam and Jacques as the latest of Salem’s unwitting patsies. It’s definitely going to be real interesting seeing the crew deal with them. Like it’s really fun to imagine Team RWBY in particular being kind of exasperated at seeing Jax’s probably doing a whole ‘With Salem’s help I shall be King!’ shtick after everything they’ve seen with Roman, Adam and Jacques.

Oh and if you don’t know, Jax has a mind-control semblance, so him trying to use that on Yang could actually lead to a sneaky callback to the Justice League crossover, ie; Yang doing a ���Yeah, I’m not doing THAT shit again.’ XD

--

Qrow’s whole vibe through this is fascinating. Like his section may have been the one we already saw, but after seeing the abject depression and growing despair of all the other characters, Qrow actually being OPTIMISTIC hit so much harder.

--

Raven showing up at the end is… interesting.

I’ll admit that ever since we saw that specific clip a few months back, I’ve been rather conflicts about Raven showing up to deliver RWBY+J to Vacuo, particularly after Ruby’s tree vision. Like for one it felt a bit random and unnecessary. The tree already deposited the Ever After team outside of Vacuo so they didn’t exactly need help getting there. Not to mention that it kind of clotheslines the story-thread set up by Ruby’s vision; that she now has a reason to track Raven down to get the ANSWERS to what happened to Summer. Finally, it’s just kind of… random? Like where did Raven even come from to get the team?

But now having seen the clip with its intended context, I’m definitely more on board with it. Particularly hearing from Kerry and Eddy that the original ending for the penultimate episode had RWBY+J going through the portal to arrive at their memorial stone, and met by a ‘Mysterious Figure’, ie; Raven. Here it feels like were getting more set up to get answers later as to what Raven was doing at the memorial.

And really, now that I’ve thought about it more, this method kind of puts the thread of Ruby going to Raven for answers even MORE into focus. Like the story reintroduces Raven in the present right after Ruby got a vision basically saying ‘hey, Raven is important’. And now going into Volume 10, we’re pretty much perfectly positioned for Ruby to pull Raven aside for those all-important ‘Why were you fucking my mom? What happened to my mom?’ questions.

--

Finally… yeah that ending hit me a LOT harder than I was expecting. Like that ending was HOPE in its purest form and it was honestly beautiful to see. Particularly right now with the future of the show seeming so uncertain. I’ve personally been optimistic about RWBY’s future (in a manner not unlike Qrow’s vibes I suppose lol), but damn the hopefulness of that ending hit especially hard, and was something I’ll admit I needed. And I imagine the rest of us could use as well.

We'll be getting Volume 10. And 11, and 12, and however many more it takes to finish this story. At this point, I have no doubt of that.

[callmeby-mylastname]

who’s she?

summary- after your fallout with tara you find comfort in the thing you hated most about her, alcohol.

warnings- some sweet angst, meaningless one night stands and some swears. possible grammar n spelling errors

A/N- thank you anon for the suggestion i hope it lived up to your standards. sorry this took so long i have been so damn busy lately but enjoy🙏

part 1

it had been 3 months since your ‘break up’ with tara and to be completely honest you were doing terrible.

you never liked it when tara drank, she became someone you didn’t recognise.

and now you’re here, you barely recognise yourself. drinking copious amounts of liquor sleeping with a new random girl.

if you kept yourslef sober enough you’d be disgusted by the reputation you had acquitted, the ‘life of the party’ the fuck boy who gets with pretty girls and leaves before they wake up. it didn’t mean anything to you it truly didn’t it clearly meant nothing to the hookups. you both wanted a sexual realsie and that’s what you got.

doing anything to distract yourself from losing the one thing that made your life bright.

Tara had heard of your new found reputation along with glaring looking at you drunkly go upstairs with a girl.

she felt guilty, real guilty. yet too stubborn to talk to you. was she scared you’d end up the way amber did? yeah. did she love you? yeah. was her fear a reasonable excuse to hurt you the way she did? not particularly.

but yet here she is, sat in her apartment wallowing in self pity, contemplating texting you.

she’d spend her nights feeling guilty debating to reach out but never truly had the courage. she hears a ping from her phone and checks the message.

nerdymeeks: have u heard of Y/Ns new girl?

Tgiz: wait what? like gf??

nerdymeeks: i think so? they’ve been seen hanging out at their place couple times

nerdymeeks: told u. u should’ve stopped being stubborn n got ur girl back before it was too late

well if she had a reason to text it was definitely now, so with the surge of confidence that had absolutely nothing to do with the raging jealousy she clicked your contact and let it ring.

“sorry the person you’re trying to contact does not exist” and with that the call ended.

tara was left in disbelief, you blocked her? you got some new girl and blocked her? that made a already very jealous mad tara exceptionally more angry

she didn’t particularly have the right to but she still was.

grabbing her shoes and keys, she was going to confront you, luckily for her you’re a couple doors away. it’s honestly shocking you two haven’t seen eachother since the fallout.

and with three knocks, she was stood at the door left with silince. she raised her fist to knock once more when a beautiful black haird girl opened the door.

logically she was stunning, but to tara? you could do better. and it isn’t at all jealousy

“can i help you?” the girl at the door way asked, recovering from the momentary stun tara replied.

“i-uh. i’m here for Y/N?”

“tara?” your voice rang out behind this new mysterious girl.

this was the first time her eyes met yours after THAT. you looked good, better than you did atleast.

but she would hate to admit how she missed the way her eyes instantly found yours wherever you were.

“we need to talk” tara replied to you

you were stuck, on one side you never wanted to see her again but that little part of ur brain was nagging at you to just hear her out.

and so you went for the latter. “okay”

tara looked back at the girl guarding the entrance to your apartment, she reluctantly moved aside and headed towards your bedroom.

“if you need me Y/N i’ll be right here” and with that she entered the room closing the door.

“so are you and broody over there..together?” she was trying to keep composer (it didn’t work)

“what do you care?” you replied bitterly

“i don’t. i-just..wondering” that composer is definitely working very well. “what do you want tara?” you were getting impatient now

“why did you block me?” she asked getting straight to the point

“it’s not like we were talking” you replied. she really had the nerve to throw you to the cerb then comd to your apartment and ask why you had blocked her?

“maybe because you were too busy getting drunk” she folded her arms across her chest.

“oh? so you’re getting judgemental now?” you walked closer to her.

“i have never once judged you, and now you’re judging me for something you’ve done?”

you were face to face with her now. you were a couple inches taller than tara, so you were looking down on her.

she would be lying if she said seeing you mad wasn’t atleast a little bit attractive.

“i had my reasons for what i did” she stated getting louder now.

“and i didn’t?” you were shouting now, both arguing with one an other.

“we were simply fucking Y/N-“ she started “No!” you cut her off. “don’t even act like what we were doing was ‘just fucking’. i loved you and you know damn well you liked me more than just some side bitch-“

it was her turn to intrupt you now “you loved me?” the tension was softer now.

“of course i did tara? you were everything i ever wanted” you paused

“and now i have everything i need” you looked towards the bedroom door, tara following your line of sight.

she felt the tears in her eyes, but she be dammed if she let you see them fall.

the soft “oh” fell from her lips “i see, well i’ll leave you two to it then” and before you could say more she turned around and left, leaving you stood in your apartment once more.

this time you had something, someone to go to. someone worth it.

tag list

@ortegalvr

@tropicals-things

@jusnough

[seeminglyseph]

I really appreciate that Eurylochus in Epic I am pretty sure is adapted from a character in the original who is at the very least somewhat antagonistic and cowardly in characterization and has spun him into a compelling and interesting character who has genuinely caused the fandom to basically to be like “but was he wrong though?”

Because like, the fact that at multiple points both Odysseus and Eurylochus have been right at different points of their adventure and just too fucked up emotionally or too “we can’t talk about things” to like. Clear up the issues they were having, means that they just. Became a tragedy.

And it is especially beautiful because Eurylochus and Polites bring this weight of friendship and loss to Odysseus in Epic, despite their existence in the Odyssey fully lacking that characterization. Though I think it is part of the miscommunication at times because like. Perspective. And if you try to look up extra information from the source text to give more context, Eurylochus is so different in that source text that like… it will back up arguments in favour of Odysseus more easily. But modern sensibilities side with Eurylochus more easily due to monarchs and tyrants like… heavily falling out of favour. So things like kings, gods, princes, captains, status, and rank are like… they exist but they aren’t seen the same.

Like the Odyssey is set in the Mycenaean age, late Bronze Age. This was a tale of ancient times when Homer was telling it. So by modern standards things can’t help but be archaic in ways. Especially given that The Iliad and Odyssey have so much to do with colonization and war and just like. Contemplating it. Existing in it and the aftermaths of it, and being conscious that it is being told to a world of people who are still acting and living in a unifying country due to colonization, that is expanding and growing its power with war and language and colonization. And the stories of the past wars are both glorious and tragic because of the necessity for glory to the heroes of the past but caution and understanding that…

Like Troy was once favoured by Zeus, that favour can be lost or swayed. Only the gods can count on their power lasting for eternity, men must know that a grudge can bloom anywhere and topple the mightiest kingdom if he does not mind his actions carefully.

The Aeneid, by Virgil which is written much later and I admit I have only read a summary, refers to Odysseus (through his Roman name Ulysses) really negatively, but that’s partially because the Romans kinda saw themselves as refugees and survivors of Troy. So like. By the time the Aeneid was being written, it was kinda the story of “those bastards who burnt our home down” from what I understand.

“Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” For realsies. Looking things up apparently the Aeneid was the most popular version of both the Odyssey and the Iliad for a while and it wasn’t until the World Wars that Homer’s versions came back into fashion. Part of that was translation issues but still, damn.

This has become the most unhinged ramble, I’m sorry. I don’t know what any of this is even about. Translation? Perspective? Adaptation? The power of storytelling? All of it? Honestly the fact of the matter is that Eurylochus has been adapted to a new character for Epic, but he fits the narrative of the Odyssey especially as far as we need it to be told today because of how power structures work, but it’s been executed extremely well.

It keeps the technicalities of the traits of the poem “cowardice” and “mutiny” and creates a character with insecurity and missing sense of self who is afraid in a reasonable way and in order to overcome that fear reacts with aggression or violence. But in a way that is encouraged, acceptable or rewarded for a soldier. However, as a second in command, he is accustomed to having a role where he checks Odysseus’ plans for flaws. This is a good position to have him in when you’re plotting a battle action, it’s a bad position to have him in when you need him to provide a united front to keep the crew from panicking.

His position as both one of the crew and Odysseus’ Right Hand Man puts him in a position where he gets part of Odysseus’ picture, and is used to a relationship where he can be comfortable and doubtful and easy with Odysseus, however Odysseus as the Captain and the King cannot be fallible in the eyes of his men, because his men need to be able to follow his orders without question in the case of a crisis or it will be a serious issue.

Honestly the whole “I need you to be able to trust me and follow my orders in a crisis” is… part of general insubordination going on into modern day practice in crisis response and military as far as I understand it so like. I do get that. Though like. They are… two deeply damaged and traumatized men who just… cannot have a proper conversation with each other.

And also I am of the opinion that Odysseus in Puppeteer, when he brushes off Eurylochys’ attempted confession with his

“There's only so much left we can endure”

I am pretty sure that is not just brushing off, that is fully Odysseus admitting to Eurylochus like “I can’t handle anything else, please.” Like. My brain is making parallels to FMA “terrible day for rain” and Eurylochus drops it because he’s looking at a man on the verge of breaking down, and grants him some dignity or peace.

I mean Mutiny calls back to Puppeteer when Odysseus calls Eurylochus out, he would have done the same. Eurylochus wanted to cut and run on Circe’s island, leaving the men she had to their fate. But since Odysseus has all the power he carries all the blame, which makes it easier when any of the others make a mistake or something goes wrong. And it’s part of the reason Ody goes back to being Captain as soon as the crew is in trouble again. If they’ve angered a god, it’s better and easier to have Odysseus deal with it.

Unfortunately for everyone Odysseus has now crossed the Despair Event Horizon and all that matters is Penelope, Telemachus, and Ithaca. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.

Which, you know. Bodes well for all the fucked up dweebs who’ve been harassing his family for years. That’s probably gonna go great for them considering all the last shreds of his humanity he sacrificed to get home and see them safe.

[physalian]

Bringing Characters Back from the Dead Without Pissing Off Your Audience

I don’t know if there’s an emotional rollercoaster out there quite shaped like an audience bawling their eyes out over the death of a beloved character and the livid and bitter turnaround that comes when that character comes back to life in the most ridiculous and lore-breaking way possible.

So, TLDR, some suggestions, not rules, depending on your genre and tone armor and not all for a single story, cherry pick as you please. If this is a kids show or a comedy where “death” is a nebulous concept anyway, ignore this. This is more for dramas.

The point of a good character death and revivial boils down to this, imo: Does doing so serve the character, the story, and the themes? Killing a character should be as big of a moment as un-killing a character, as long of a road as it took to get there should be as long or longer as it takes to get out. Otherwise, you just did it for shock value and everyone noticed.

DO:

Establish that revival is even on the table at some point well before this character dies. The smaller the gap between “hey death is optional” and “oh look, it’s the fan favorite in peril”, the less likely your audience is going to feel all the intended gut-wrenching emotions.

Have the dying character completely unaware that this might not be a one-way trip, even if the audience does. The entire cast might not have any clue, but the audience knows because Character Who Knew Too Much revealed it before they died. There is a time and a place for “I’m going on a suicide mission but I secretly have a contingency plan to cheat death” and it’s very hard to do it well.

Demand some cost, either from the dead character or the person/thing/deity that saved them. It should not come without consequence. Either they’re permanently emotionally scarred, physically scarred, are only back for a limited time, or somebody else died to take their place, etc. If revival has no cost, then death has no meaning.

USE IT SPARINGLY GODDAMN

Let the character be as shocked and horrified that they’re not dead anymore as the audience is ugly crying at their return. If the narrative shrugs it off, it’s going to feel cheap.

Let the characters doing the reviving be unsure if it'll even work. If both the characters and the narrative believe bringing them back is a foregone conclusion, you lose out on a lot of tension on if it's all for moot.

DON’T:

Keep killing and reviving the same characters with the same sad music and the same funerals and day-drinking and expect the audience to really believe it’s for realsies this time, CW.

Keep pretending to kill off characters but they’re actually fine

Pull it out of nowhere and try to bend the plot in post as if this is actually a good thing and not manipulative writing

Controversial but: warn the entire audience ahead of time, for many, many books, that somebody’s gonna die and it’s gonna hurt, and then say “nah just kidding” at the end.

Revive them too quickly. Death is a powerful, dramatic event for the dead character and all those who survive them. Unless it’s like a drowning situation where the character takes a few more seconds to gasp awake, let the story stew in the aftermath properly, otherwise—why kill them in the first place?

Some examples:

Gandalf—This one’s a funny one because it doesn’t establish that death is optional. Gandalf “dies” and then Boromir dies maybe 45 minutes apart. Thing is, though, that Gandalf is a 3000 year old wizard and Boromir is just a dude. Two Towers also begins by replaying Gandalf’s fall with added context so you’re already primed with “well that must be important, his character is still relevant”. The movies certainly have their share of fakeouts, but characters who are meant to die (Boromir, Theoden, Theodred, Denethor) stay dead. Gollum is just made of silly string I guess and invulnerable to high falls, unless they’re into lava. Gandalf isn't the hero, either, his job isn't to save the world, it's to make sure that everyone else saves the world. If Aragorn fell fighting the Balrog and showed up out of nowhere in Two Towers, it would cheapen the whole victory when the gods can just say "nope you're not dead, cancel, undo button" but not smite the orcs for them.

Jon Snow—oh look I’m actually praising GoT for once. He dies in season 5 and comes back at the end of episode 2 of season 6 after a whole campaign of seemingly futile magic and the heroes giving up hope. This series is full of graphic and pointless deaths. The hero getting stabbed seven times in the chest in a mutiny isn’t out of left field at all. But back in season… 2, I think? The Hound comes across a dude who can’t be killed, who attributes that to this Lord of Light deity. The same deity that Melisandre (the witch who brings back Jon) also worships. It’s proper set-up, proper time spent mourning him with a whole break between seasons, proper build up with the impact of his death, and proper consequences once he’s back, dude isn’t the same and I will always miss his fluffier hair.

Leo Valdez—I have no idea if I’m in the minority here but back when Heroes of Olympus was being published, the fandom had five whole years to argue over which of the seven heroes was going to die. It was all over the walls. Yes, this is a series about mythological creatures with gods and gods of the dead and even Death being captured to stop people from dying. “Character cheating death” didn’t come out of nowhere. However. Even though it was properly established, the series spent five whole books promising that somebody was gonna die, and then Leo comes back because the Prophecy didn’t read the fine print. I liked Leo, but I cannot stand chickening out of killing a character and this was one hell of a deus ex machina when the whole last book was a misfire.

The Whole Vampire Diaries and Supernatural—everybody knows the CW is allergic to perma-deaths. There’s infographics out there calculating how many times Sam and Dean and Cas have died. I know more about the background to TVD so herein lies the issue: The creator was allergic to change of any kind and apparently the actors didn’t have the best relationship with her because of it and other reasons. Her characters fell in the same cyclical arcs because who they were in seasons 1 and 2 is everyone’s favorite iterations of their personalities, so they can never have proper arcs with real growth. TVD was a serialized show written like it was episodic, so nothing, not even death, was permanent save for a few characters here and there. Death lost all meaning, the writing was manipulative constantly expecting audiences to believe it this time, and the lore kept breaking each time they did it with new excuses to bring somebody back.

*Gaara—I don't actually remember it super well and his death pissed me off more than his revival but I want to add it anyway. How they brought him back, with Granny Chiyo sacrificing herself for him and him being utterly shocked that anyone gave a shit to bother rescuing him was great, no notes. Even better because I belive Chiyo was like "it's alright I can fix him" and everyboy but Naruto realized that doing so would cost her her life. I just hated how they showed you Gaara dying ~20 episodes before anyone got there to save him, meanwhile the heroes were dicking around fighting their shadow-selves instead of just... running away? They didn't know he was already dead. The lack of urgency for all parties involved, in a show that's legendary for its shit pacing, promptly ruined any chances of me watching it past that arc. But, the revival was well done, so. Have a Gaara.

—

And then you’ve got way on the far end of ass-pulls, characters like Palpatine, heroes in soap operas, or shows in their 11th season that have already checked out or know it’s dumb and don’t care how dumb. It’s the nature of the beast. It’s hard to get mad at them for the single sin of undoing death when they probably already have a hundred other problems.

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2

Homestuck fanart by Timsel-kun on deviantart

Propaganda under the cut:

Beverly/Elliot:

Hot lesbians both played by Rachel Weisz! And they're canon in the book it's based on, and like HEAVILY implied to be for realsies in love and fucking in the show. Great lesbianism, great incest

There's literally a scene where elliot is listening intently to beverly having sex in the next room, and she like moans listening to it ok

Beverly's gf breaks up with her cuz she's weirded out by the twins relationship

Beverly likes to attend a support group for ppl with dead siblings and pretend her sister is dead like the psychosexual issues here.....

beverly and elliot were literally trying to have a child together. Elliot (a gynecologist) artificially impregnated Beverly MULTIPLE TIMES

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

[actualbird]

do you think the nxx ever cries or just… don’t deal with their emotions in a healthy way? they must be so emotionally repressed!

im so sorry but this is worded in a way i find absolutely hilarious omfg. do they cry or do they suck it up til the end of time? KJAHVSJFHAVSLFSFKJA

i like to think they Do cry, but my god it takes a Lot. this goes for All of them. like, we've seen in canon when the nxx boys and rosa cries, and it's usually during/after very high stakes or very emotional situations. some examples off the top of my head are

marius cries in SSR Unconcealable, the card where mc gets KIDNAPPED and then both of them get TRAPPED IN A FREEZER FOR A HOT SEC

mc cries in SSR Peaceful Place because she thought luke got shot and DIED,

luke cries in his Blossom Chapter Personal Story 4 because he thought mc DROWNED AND DIED

artem cries in SSR Two Hearts as one because he got so emotional acting like he was choking mc

vyn cries in...well, several cards like SR False Tears and SSR Neon Melody but those were 1) not exactly a "healthy" way of dealing with emotions or 2) caused by pepper spray KJHVSKJDF. im behind on vyn's cards, idk in which ones he cries honestly due to genuine in distress

so like, they DO cry. but it seems to take rather a lot to get them there. the flipside is that they also cry when overcome with immensely positive emotion (like, mc was on the verge of tears when luke finally proposed in SSR Orange Scent) so at least theres that!!!! but it's not much, chief....

all members of the nxx team all are IMMENSELY repressed. i think the most emotionally healthy of the team is DAVIS, which isnt a good sign, given that hes not even human

anyhoo this ask inspired me so

here are some misc headcanons on the nxx team and crying

i hc that luke as a kid was Such a crybaby. he'd cry over everything: when he saw a sad movie, when he saw a happy movie, when he saw a dog being walked but the dog was so dang small, when mc cries and his high empathy kicks in to make it Our Cry Session, just...he cried over IT ALL. he was just a very emotionally sensitive child, even to emotions from others. he eventually got emotionally steadier as he grew up but i think there are innocuous movies that, due to him crying over them as a kid, still make luke cry as an adult

[nxx movie night]

marius: man i love this movie, absolute classi---WHY ARE YOU CRYING??

luke: because ANYBODY can COOK!! EVEN A RAT!!!!!

mc, silently glaring at marius over luke's shoulder as if to say "Don't You Say A Mean Word To Him Right Now": O_O

(yes, they were watching ratatouille)

-

vyn has mastered crying on cue and can do it at the drop of a hat, but when he REALLY TRULY ACTUALLY is hit by the genuine need to cry for any reason, be it positive or negative, he cannot stop it at all until its run its natural course.

which is just AGONIZING for him, surely, but this is the price he has to pay for the power of being able to cry on command: not be able to stop when it's for realsies

marius: HAHA, CRYBABY

vyn: //throws a book at him because just cuz he cant stop crying, doesnt mean he cant attack

-

it slightly pisses everyone off a teensy bit that artem can cry artfully.

like, the single tear. the lines of silent tears streaming down his face. even the more desperate sobs. doesnt matter whether theyre stage tears for another play or if theyre during high stakes situations, artem seems to naturally cry in a cinematic manner

artem: //shedding a few tears because of the stress of an nxx operation or something

luke: hey it's okay, everyone's alright

luke internal thoughts: why is he so pretty while crying?????? .....wait what

-

and lastly, marius can hold back tears like nobodys business. like luke, he was a huge crybaby as a kid. but unlike luke, he held it back so much that when he DID cry as a child, it was REALLY CRYING. like wailing, like sobbing. it's heartbreaking to watch

so via his Entire Life Of Repressing Weakness And Related Emotions, he became rlly powerful at holding back the need to cry. it only happens during VERY EMOTIONALLY INTENSE scenarios ORRRR

during horror movies

because hes such a horror weakling and he gets so spooked that tears literally come out

mc: how did that jumpscare make you tear up but not the intro scene to Up

marius, hiding behind a pillow to avoid any more jumpscares: im a man of endless mystery, miss

thank you for the ask :D

[loganslowdown4]

Logan: So Patton, when you’re a frog, your classification is amphibian.

Patton: What’s that?

Logan: Meaning you could breathe on land AND in water.

Patton: *gasp* YOU MEAN I’M A MERMAID??

Logan: No, I—

Patton: ROMAN, LOGAN SAID I’M THE LITTLE MERMAID FOR REALSIES

Roman: Hey! Why don’t I get to be the little mermaid, huh Logan???

Logan: You both need to chill the hell out.

[iesnoth]

I have two questions (you totally don’t have to do any of them tho just curious):

What was your basic plan for the ARG on AF asks (or was there no planning involved)?

can you draw Artemis (or Orion) and holly doing the Jack and Rose *Titanic* pose lol (just thought it would be fun if you wanted too)

love your art and your blog <3

Hello!

I should probably answer at least the first one for people who are curious.

There was little to no planning involved. I wanted to do something for April Fool's Day, was feeling kinda down and chose to do something a bit darker than the normal prank. I like puzzles, so thought an ARG could be fun, but let me tell you, those things take PLANNING. And knowledge of the future, because you have to know and be able to adapt to how the audience will react to the puzzles.

Anyway, the basic idea was that the Mod had had a mental break due to pressure over the blog and stumbled onto some forbidden knowlege. The MOD AI then took over all creative control, and the Mod's online persona (even hijacked her brain irl? idk). The AI was obsessed with maintaining order and audience engagement, even at the cost of canon. That's why they had a poll over the popularity of the characters and removed the unpopular ones from the canon over time, putting them into a dimension below them on the ladder of reality. This means they could show up in the blog as characters in fiction they read, just as the blog characters are from a book in our reality.

The removal of characters, even small ones, caused ripple effects across the reality of the blog. These resulted in changes such as:

Artemis having 2 blue eyes (because Opal was erased).

No one knowing who No. 1 was (because he was out of the dimension at the time of the takeover, so the MOD AI couldn't erase him).

A scar across Artemis's face from a troll during their first adventure. Artemis kidnapped Root, not Holly, and so the troll fight went very differently.

Holly looks more punk. After saving Root from Artemis, the two bonded over their shared interest in breaking the rules. Holly spends more time on the surface as a result, and Root lets her because she keep Artemis under control.

Minerva and Artemis meet organically. She doesn't know about the People.

Artemis and Minerva are martial artists (Artemis learned the importance of self-defense after his scar).

Holly never becomes commodore because she's too punk.

Artemis Sr. is dead for realsies, though he died after the twins were born.

Angeline falls back into depression after her husband's death.

Artemis and Holly never go back in time, and so never kiss.

Root never dies.

Artemis and Holly don't lose 3 years during the Hybras debacle.

Butler has hair.

As more people are erased, Artemis gets more reckless.

The twins are raised by Juliet after Angeline falls back into a depression.

The twins don't know about fairies.

Foaly is more of a Steve Jobs type, focused on making money.

Angeline dies in childbirth with the twins, which turns Artemis into a super-serious and dangerous mobster type because he had to provide for his brothers.

And those are all the changes I could find. I had a bunch more planned, whittling down to just Artemis, Holly, and Butler, and how the loss of the supporting cast would change them as people. But this blog wasn't a good venue for an ARG, as the audience is a come-and-go sort of group. Also, the puzzles weren't going over as planned. Ultimately, I wanted the blog to be enjoyable over consistent, so I decided to abandon the ARG and preserve the sanctity of the blog itself. I guess you could say it was our jump the shark moment.

As for your second request... it sounds fun, but not something I'd draw personally. Thanks for the suggestion, though!