#I feel like it is important for me to learn

[pearlfull]

must be love

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ SYNOPSIS: Batboys as boyfriends and their habits in a relationship! SFW + NSFW. 18+. 〝 What did you give me to make my heart beat out my chest? 〞 Batboys x Reader. ⋆˚࿔ A/N: Thanks for love on my last post! I TAKE REQUESTS! Sorta rusty, but I've missed writing sm chat

ᯓ★ DICK GRAYSON.

SFW

DICK GREW UP WITH BRUCE'S OLD WORLD MANNERS AND ALFRED'S TENDERNESS. It would be insulting to both of them if he didn't treat his partner following those examples of devotion.

Always has a hand on you. Thigh when he's driving, drawing circles on the inside with the other on the wheel, the small of your back as you're walking through a crowd to help you guide through the heat of bodies around you both, your hip when he's talking to someone else.

So there's no question when you both are out that you're his. Not because he clings, just because he's so unmistakably in love and he's loud about it. His hand finds yours without thinking, it's second nature to him. He laughs louder when you're happy, arm stays around your waist.

When you're not around? If someone tries their luck, any girl is met with a smile and he shakes his head sweetly, "Someone gorgeous has me."

Another thing about Dick is he shows up. Not just for you, the other people in your life. They're important to you, so they're important to them. He bribes your little brother with action figures and of course he'll drive your sister to soccer practice, and they can hit boba on the way home afterwards. Holds your dog during fireworks. Your roommate has a bad date and he's on the couch with you and gives his two cents from a guy's perspective and wait hey, he thinks Wally's her type?

"They like me, right?" His hair has stray pieces of sawdust from helping your dad fix the garage door, and there's a streak of grease staining his shirt. "I can't have your whole bloodline turning on me if I mess up babe."

He wants to find his way to fit into your world. And vice versa for sure!

Will bring you to the manor, and kiss the inside of your wrist and introduce you to Alfred like you're royalty. "This is (her. him. them.)"

Like that's all the explanation needed.

With the others, he lights up when they ask about you, or when you play cards with Jason and Tim, compliment and study Dami's drawings or make Bruce and Cass laugh.

When you go out with his friends, he'll drape his arm around you and grin when they tease you both.

At his apartment, he presses a kiss softly to your lips after you steal a sip of his beer and Roy will grin at the lovestruck expression on Dick's face before raising his brows at him, "Why don't you ever do that to me?"

Flowers are often. Will deliver them casually, too. Was 4th of July a worthy occasion for them? You don't know but you don't really mind.

NSFW

Munch city. DON'T YELL AT ME I'M RIGHT.

Lives for your pleasure, but there's nothing performative about it, he just gets off to how he can make you feel.

He takes his time, draws it out, and holds your hips down to keep you from squirming. "Where're you going, pretty?"

Literally moans into you, louder if you get louder, looks up at you as if he's seeing the face of God.

"So pretty like this, fuck."

Offers constantly. You'd honestly think he's ovulating. You're drying your hair as you step out the shower, and he's kissing the side of your neck sweetly, and tugging you to his bed murmuring something like, "C'mere. Wanna taste you real quick." It's not quick, you both know, but he's already kissing inside your thighs.

All hands and praise!!

Doesn't rush the after, he's walking you to the bathroom and when you're back he has a wet towel and an iced water with a straw.

ᯓ★ JASON TODD.

SFW

JASON DOESN'T LOVE LIKE HE WAS BORN INTO IT, BUT RATHER LIKE HE HAD TO LEARN HOW TO DO IT.

Clumsy, then careful!

He's practical, until he's not.

Until you mention wanting to see a local play, and when you get home he's bought tickets to four.

"This one's experimental." His finger points to the pamphlets he got when he drove down to the ticket office. "This one's about war. Feminist period piece. A musical." He gets quieter, and shrugs like it's not a big deal. "Thought we could make a thing of it."

He's practical until he's adopting a kitten with you, no question.

You find her outside your complex in a silver bin, tiny and shaking and definitely sick. He just sighs and peels off his jacket to wrap it up as you kiss his cheek. "Guess we're cat people now."

You find him on the couch with the cat on his chest and he's reading Wuthering Heights lowly to her. He doesn't look up, just rolls his eyes.

"Don't start, [Name.] She likes the voices."

He doesn't say I love you early. But he definitely acts like it. He'll pull you behind him when you cross the street quickly, text you "home safe?" before you've even made it to your driveway.

Observant would be putting it lightly. Your favorite shampoo and conditioner is in his shower and he keeps makeup wipes and guesses your lipgloss shade to have an extra in his pocket in case you misplace it.

Checks your apartment locks, and replaces them, "Sweetheart, these deadbolts were shit."

Learns all your favorite recipes.

He learns how you like your eggs how you want the edges of your sandwiches.

"You feed the people you love, right?" A beat. "And I love you."

Your favorite childhood meal. How your mom made it after your first breakup, a week later the aroma is filling your apartment, and he has sauce on his cheek and he's trying not to grin.

He loves to cook with you too! Jason'll open the jars, hold your hips while you're focused on stirring.

Annotates your favorite books. Watches your favorite movies. Without complaint. He wants to know you. And initially it was scary, but you're healing parts of him he didn't know were hurt, and he tries to do the same.

Tipsy Jason? The roughness practically melts out of him.

He drinks slow till you arrive, and when you do, he lights up and Roy laughs and shakes his head as Jay pulls you into his lap with his drink still in hand, kissing your shoulder.

You tease him for being clingy, but the next he's murmuring into your hair, "Don't get how someone like you gets to be with me."

NSFW

Needs to see your eyes, and hear you fall apart because of him.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you."

Whines when you moan his name, and ruts harder when you beg.

If you try and stay quiet, he slows down and looks at you like he's got every bit of time on his hands. "Say it again, want that voice, baby."

ᯓ★ TIM DRAKE.

SFW

DESPITE EVERYTHING, TIM IS CONSISTENT! He always makes time for you, and doesn't brag about it, doesn't rearrange his schedule in front of you.

"I'll be in your neighborhood in ten minutes." You raise your voice to protest, but he's already lacing up his shoes.

Spoiled would be an understatement, but to Tim? It's bare minimum, don't even think twice about it.

He'll subtly match outfits with you. Red tie, to compliment your gloss. Soft grey if you choose blue. Enough so when pap photos come out later, you'll notice.

"You do that on purpose?"

"We look good."

Places for dates are quiet when you go out: old jazz bars, private late night planetarium tours.

When he picks you up, the smoke curls in the air like the music and he's gotten you the booth in the corner next to the drums.

You also go to the aquarium, the whole place is closed to the public. You swing his hand as it's laced into yours, eyes glittering and you can tell he's trying not to laugh at your excitement. “How did you manage this?”

He just shrugs, and kisses your cheek. “I had a favor owed. Small bribe. You said you used to come here with your mom.”

You almost melt into the floor.

He loves your perfume! In a really sweet way.

Will steal your scarf in the winter to wear to work. Buries his face into your shoulder when he hugs you.

Eventually purchases a travel size of your signature scent for himself to help remind him of home when he's away.

He keeps a photo of you in his wallet, tucked behind his ID. Steph teases him for it, claims he acts like he's a soldier at war carrying a picture of his wife.

It happens on accident that you find it, you're sitting on your couch on a Sunday, your legs draped across his lap, he's rifling through it to find a gift card that has thirty more bucks on it. He flips through it, one hand on your waist, thumb tracing lazy circles over your hip bone.

There's a flash of photo paper and you blink. "Go back."

He raises his brows, freezing, "What?"

You pluck it from his hands, thumbing it through yourself and there it is. A tiny picture of you. He must've printed it himself, but you remember when it was taken. You, with a matcha latte and a goofy grin pointing to a billboard behind you with Tim's face on it.

You laugh, but tuck it back in. "You keep this in your wallet?"

"Yeah." His voice is soft, but his eyes crinkle with amusement.

"Why?"

"Because it's the one I always liked. Makes me laugh. You look pretty and like soft. And mine."

You stare at him a moment too long, and he rolls his eyes, "Okay, I sound insane."

"Nope."

Also nights in?? A great break for Tim. He gets overwhelmed easily and when he comes home he wants something real and sometimes that's you playing Mario Kart on his floor in his pajama bottoms.

Or decorating cookies shaped like lopsided bats.

You let him put his armor down, literally and figuratively.

NSFW

He works from beneath you!!! Controlled and deep thrusts, eyes locked on yours and studying the way your chin tilts and nose scrunches when he hits the right spot.

His hands are everywhere, but your hips are his favorite, rolling them in slow circles.

"That's it," "Just like that, fuck."

He also loves seeing you completely bent over sorry. Your back arched, legs shaking and your winded breath every time he pushes it in deeper.

Kissing your shoulder. Groaning against your back, he'll make you look at him

[ashrikesthorn]

so this is really old and also pls note i now work from home and that has had me falling off the wagon, but i thought this might help people who drive to work and hate their job and their life with making these things happen (i went 6 days a week for 3-4 months after having never gone to the gym except for maybe a handful of times in like 30 years):

i wanted to change careers (i did, not to what i was planning) and the career i wanted was much more physical, so the 'why' of going to the gym was 'getting the fuck out of this hellscape of a job' and that was a really powerful motivator for me - so get yourself a why, and make it a good one

i found a pre-made workout plan that i literally just looked at before i started working out and did that - i have NO knowledge of gyms or equipment and most of what i was doing was body weight/treatmill/light weights. i had a friend who worked at the gym so i had a non-scary intro to the equipment they had and it was pretty limited so i felt okay about it

i drove past the gym on the way home - my route took me past it so it was kinda like ok this is my stop before home and i made it my routine

i bought a pass that was annual so i felt kinda financially motivated to utilize that thing

i meal prepped (literally the same 3 breakfast/lunch/dinners every day) every sunday by placing a grocery order and then cooking huge batches of 3 meals and then splitting it up - this was actually incredible and the simplicity of it for someone who does not like to cook and is a big snacker was amazing **note: this is the book i used, i found it for free in my lobby one day and just picked three things and that was it, this isn't an affiliate or whatever i just pressed share but the book is 'The No Meat Athlete' by Matt Frazier and Stepfanie Romine if you want something that helped feel satiating and was tasty https://a.co/d/5kS9oz6

i bought a protein powder and a pre-workout that supplemented the pre-gym slump (omg pre-workout is INSANE) and post-gym hunger, and i used the absolutely brutal aggression i had from hating my job as motivation, it was really really helpful

i kept a packed duffel bag in my car at all times so i wouldn't forget anything (changed the dirty clothes for clean in the evening and left it by the door so i wouldn't forget it in the morning)

lastly, i really had to reframe my thinking about gyms and health - i was doing this for me and i FELT my body improve its wellness, it was astounding. i learned to adjust when i was on my period or having a really low mental-health day and allowed that for myself, and i still saw results

the most important parts for me were driving past the gym (i kid you not, if i don't drive past i will not go, i know it's terrible but i can really talk myself out of anything) and having meal-prepped food - i truly could not do it and cook every night, it just wasn't gonna happen

anyway, if anyone reads this and finds it helpful that's awesome, i have lost a lot of my muscle mass and mobility in the last 6 months but this coming week i'm starting up again and i'm really excited for that, i genuinely never felt better and i understood how people started to become ~gym people~ (y'all i was looking at WEIGHTED VESTS....madness)

good luck, friends, i'm wishing you the best <3

how the hell do people work full time AND work out. and also eat. i feel like a dvd player

[kenzdolls]

JAX RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS .

⌗ pairing: (tadc) jax x gn! reader

⌗ warnings: lowercase intended, has spoilers of ep 5

⌗ a/n: idk i did this since I’m trying to reach out to other fandoms (yes i’m doing all the characters i have free will)..also since my inbox is dry, i’m asking…PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS MY BRAIN IS FRYING FROM WRITERS BLOCK

FIRST TIME MEETING:

▹ jax literally does NOT care when you first arrive because he's seen too many newbies lose their minds within the first week (he's learned not to get attached too quickly after what happened with ribbit)

▹ probably pranks you on your literal first day because "welcome to hell, might as well get used to it now" but then feels weirdly guilty about it later??? like he'll leave a small apology gift outside your room (probably stolen from someone else's room tbh)

▹ gets annoyed when you don't immediately break down or start crying like most new people do - where's the entertainment in that??? you're just… adapting??? (this bothers him more than it should)

▹ starts paying attention to you when you either: 1) successfully prank him back, 2) don't rat him out when caine asks who put glitter in ragatha's hair, or 3) laugh at his jokes even when everyone else is giving him death glares

▹ definitely steals your room key within the first week just to see what you're hiding but then gets genuinely curious about your little personal space and the weird way you've arranged everything

▹ makes fun of whatever coping mechanism you've developed but secretly takes notes because holy shit you're actually handling this better than he did

▹ starts doing that thing where he "accidentally" bumps into you during adventures or walks just a little too close when caine isn't looking (personal space who???)

▹ probably gives you a stupid nickname based on either: something embarrassing that happened to you, your appearance, or just to annoy you (spoiler alert: he keeps using it even when you start dating)

▹ gets genuinely confused when you start talking to him like he's a actual person and not just the "funny mean rabbit" because??? people don't usually do that??? ribbit was the last person who really saw him as jax and not just comic relief

HIM CRUSHING ON YOU:

▹ this man is in DENIAL with a capital D - like he'll literally tell himself "i don't like them, i just think they're less annoying than the others" while actively going out of his way to spend time with you

▹ starts hoarding little things that remind him of you (a button that fell off your outfit, a drawing you doodled during a boring caine explanation, etc.) but will DIE before admitting it

▹ gets weirdly protective but tries to play it off as "you're MY entertainment, nobody else gets to mess with you" but really he's terrified of losing another person he cares about

▹ begins pranking you more but they're like… softer pranks??? like putting fake spiders in your bed (but making sure they're not the kind that actually scare you) or rearranging your room (but not actually breaking anything important)

▹ starts having those moments where he'll say something genuinely sweet/supportive but then IMMEDIATELY follow it up with an insult to maintain his image ("you're not completely terrible at this… for an idiot")

▹ catches himself staring at you during adventures and gets MAD about it - like why are you so distracting??? he has chaos to cause and you're just… existing??? attractively??? rude.

▹ probably has a minor crisis about his feelings because the last person he really cared about was ribbit and we all know how that ended (he's absolutely terrified of caring about someone again)

▹ gets jealous when other circus members get your attention but won't admit it - instead he'll just insert himself into conversations or create distractions to get focus back on him

▹ starts doing that thing where he remembers really specific details about you (your favorite corner to sit in, how you fidget when you're anxious, what makes you laugh) but acts like he doesn't pay attention to anyone

▹ has definitely had at least one dream about you and woke up SO MAD about it because feelings are WEAKNESS and he doesn't DO weakness

▹ begins testing the waters with more physical contact - "accidentally" grabbing your hand during adventures, leaning against you when he's "tired," finding excuses to be in your personal space

▹ gets genuinely upset when you're having a bad day but doesn't know how to help without compromising his reputation, so he'll just… be less mean to everyone that day (the others notice and are confused)

YOU DATING HIM:

▹ asking you out was probably the most awkward thing he's ever done because he had to drop the act for like 0.5 seconds to be genuine and he HATED every second of it (but your reaction made it worth it)

▹ your relationship is 70% banter and 30% genuine sweet moments when he thinks nobody is looking and 100% him being terrified you'll abstract and leave him like ribbit did

▹ still pranks you but now it's "couple pranks" - like putting fake love letters in your room signed from other circus members just to see you get flustered, or rearranging your stuff to spell out "I LOVE YOU" (but then denying he did it)

▹ gets SUPER jealous but tries to play it off as possessiveness - "that's MY idiot you're talking to" (he's not fooling anyone, he's just insecure)

▹ shows affection through: stealing things for you, letting you win at games sometimes, sharing his food, and most importantly - telling you his real thoughts instead of just sarcastic quips

▹ absolutely MELTS when you play with his ears but will threaten anyone who points it out (his ears do that little twitch thing when he's happy and you're the only one who gets to see it)

▹ has nightmares about you abstracting and will sometimes wake up and just… need to see you to make sure you're okay (he'll make up some excuse about being bored or wanting to prank someone)

▹ starts including you in his pranks as a partner rather than a target - you two become the WORST duo and everyone else suffers for it (but secretly they think it's cute that jax is happy)

▹ gets genuinely soft when you're upset about the whole "being trapped forever" thing because he KNOWS that feeling and doesn't want you to go through it alone like he did

▹ probably has a secret stash of things he's made/found for you that he's too embarrassed to give you directly, so he just leaves them places you'll find them

▹ learns your triggers and genuinely tries to avoid them in his pranks/jokes because making you laugh is good, making you hurt is NOT (growth!!!)

▹ gets scared when you're too quiet or seem distant because what if you're starting to abstract what if he's losing you what if what if what if so he'll just hover around you until you're acting normal again

▹ your first kiss was probably during a really dangerous adventure when he thought one of you might not make it out, and he just couldn't leave things unsaid (very dramatic, very him)

▹ now he's stuck between his fear of losing you and his genuine happiness at having you, so he's like… aggressively affectionate but also constantly worried (someone get this rabbit some therapy)

▹ starts planning little dates within the circus - like setting up movie nights in the common area or finding ways to get you both out of adventures so you can just hang out

▹ definitely practices saying "i love you" in his room before he actually says it to you (and when he finally does, it's probably during an argument where he just blurts it out and then gets embarrassed)

⌗ taglist: @idexmids @siriuslyginnychase @eleteo125 @st4r-dustx @corpsebridenightamare @boreaswrites [OPEN]

✦ REQUESTS ARE OPEN! ✦

© KENZDOLLS 2025 . do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work in anyway including the use of ai onto any other social media platforms or it will permit an instant block on all platforms.

[cherierot]

message in a bottle ✹ op81 × fem!reader

previous | next

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

genre: slow burn enemies (but actually misunderstanding) to Besties to Lovers emotional damage with a side of banter social anxiety-core. smau x irl

chapter warnings: smoking, slight hints of depression, reference to past suicide ideation, themes of unresolved trauma, emotional repression (?), jetlag, dissociation (lol), accidental hose attack + 81% chance of hypothermia, for more content warning check linked masterlist above

synopis: once, he saved your life with shaking hands and a bad autograph. now, years later, you stand in his orbit—hattie's best friend with a half-healed heart and a wrist tattoo he'll never notice. he doesn't remember you. you never forgot him. It's messy. It's slow. It's everything and nothing at all.

author notes: so so sorry for the long wait, I mean with my personal life tearing me apart, writing is cathartic to me rn, but sadly I keep breaking my laptop, it refuses to say in one piece ya'll. but good news is, I have decided to say adios to my eyesight and light in from my phone (yay?!)

chapter one : sub rosa

➔ ❝ ...𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 ❞

You smoke out the window like it’s a ritual, watching the smoke curl up and disappear, the bitter drag of it filling the hollow parts you pretend don’t exist. The sky outside is dull, that late-winter grey that makes everything feel like it’s waiting for something to happen. Your inbox is full of unread emails, half-written assignments, and one string of voice notes from Hattie, each more dramatic than the last.

"I haven’t seen you in forever. Come visit me, please, I’ll die if you don’t—"

Then laughter. That sharp, untouchable kind of laughter that sounds like it belongs to people who aren’t tired like you. People like Hattie, whose orbit has always been bright and fast and full of noise.

You didn’t say no. Mostly because you didn’t have the energy to. Mostly because staying here another week, alone in this airless flat, feels like a worse kind of drowning.

You’re three days into ignoring your coursework. Two days into skipping meals on accident. One week into letting the dirty mugs stack up on your desk like some pathetic little monument to inertia. You know exactly what Hattie would say if she saw it. You can almost hear her voice in your head now, “Get up. Do something. Put on lipstick. We’re going out.”

You stub the cigarette out against the chipped brick of the window frame and watch the ash scatter like it’s trying to leave you too.

The thing is.....you miss her.

Hattie.

Her messy bedroom floor and her bad playlist choices and her habit of making everything feel urgent and impossible and alive. It’s been months since you’ve seen her. Since she hugged you too tight and told you she hated how small your wrists felt.

So when she begged you to visit, you said yes without thinking. Without asking who else might be there. Without giving yourself time to spiral about the possibility of running into—

No. You don’t go there.

You press the thought down like you’ve learned to press down every other stupid, sentimental, self-destructive thought.

This is about Hattie. About seeing her. About pretending you’re still capable of being someone who shows up for people.

The airport is exactly how you remember it: cold, too bright, and full of people pretending they’re going somewhere important. You move through it like a ghost, sneakers sticking on cheap tile, your backpack too heavy on one shoulder.

At security, you stand barefoot on the cold floor, arms out like a crime scene silhouette, while a stranger waves a plastic wand over your body like they’re trying to find something worth keeping.

The flight itself is short. Forgettable.

You sit by the window and let your headphones play the same three songs on repeat. Eyes on the clouds, fingers restless in your lap, heart doing that stupid, aching thing where it feels both too fast and too slow at once.

By the time you land, your phone’s at 9%, and Hattie’s already sent three texts:

"Where r u??"

"Do you want me to pick you up or are you getting a cab??"

"Also slight thing forgot to tell you something but lol nvm see you soon xoxo"

Your mouth twitched slightly, suppressing a slight smile. You don't reply.

You just grab your bag, sling it over one shoulder, and step out into the thick, summer heat of a city you haven’t been back to in over a year.

Not knowing that somewhere, across town, he’s already home too.

Hattie’s already waiting at arrivals when you step out, standing on top of a metal bench like she’s trying to summon an audience. She’s waving both arms like she’s directing air traffic, wearing sunglasses too big for her face and grinning like she’s just won something.

You pause for half a second at the sight of her—because no matter how tired you are, no matter how much your body feels like a half-charged phone, she still makes you smile like muscle memory.

"Oh my god, you’re alive!" she yells, way too loud for an airport.

A few strangers turn. You duck your head and walk faster.

She meets you halfway, launching herself at you with zero warning and enough force to make your carry-on bag swing off your shoulder.

"You smell like airplane and room freshener." she says into your hair, still hugging you like she doesn’t care that you’re awkward and stiff and slow to hug back.

"You smell like bad descisions and Red Bull." you mutter.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, fake-offended.

"Rude." she paused, gripping your forearms to pull you back in for another, "but not wrong."

The car she drives now is the same one she had back in high school.

A dented, sun-faded with a temperamental stereo and a cracked dashboard she once tried to cover with pokemon stickers. The passenger seat still leans too far back from that one night she let you crash there when you didn’t want to go home.

The seatbelt lock sticks. The air conditioning rattles like it’s got lungs full of dust.

But she drives it like it’s a chariot. Like every scrape on the paint is a badge of honor.

"Still haven’t gotten that fixed?" you ask, yanking at the stubborn seatbelt until it clicks.

"Charm, babe," she says, patting the dash like it’s a living thing. "This car’s got character."

She tosses your bag into the back with zero ceremony and climbs behind the wheel like she’s racing a countdown clock. The engine groans, then catches like it always does, like it’s trying one last time not to die on her.

"I got us snacks for the drive," she announces, grabbing a half-crushed bag of chips from the floor between her feet.

"Are they edible?"

"Debatable," she grins. "But it’s the thought that counts."

You settle in, letting the seat swallow you whole. The road stretches out in front of you, dust and sun and familiar turns you haven’t taken in far too long.

Hattie talks the whole way. About her classes. Her neighbors. The dog her mom’s thinking about adopting.

You let her comforting voice fill the car like music.

While you watch the sky shift from airport grey to something just slightly gold at the edges.

░░░░░░░ ✸

The drive is longer than you remember.

Or maybe it just feels that way because every street, every stretch of cracked pavement, carries something you’ve spent years trying to forget.

The closer you get to their house, the tighter your chest pulls.

The ghost of seventeen sitting shotgun with you, chewing on memories like gum you can’t spit out.

By the time Hattie pulls into the driveway, the sky’s bruised with late afternoon sun, and the house stands there looking exactly the same. Same chipped paint near the garage. Same uneven patch of grass near the mailbox. Same front steps where you sat one night with shaking hands and lungs too full of panic to breathe properly.

You blink hard, like that’ll stop the memories from clawing their way up your throat.

It doesn’t work.

Hattie’s already out of the car, grabbing your bag like it’s nothing, yelling over her shoulder about snacks and sun and how her mom made dessert just because you’re coming.

"Mum’s out, but she said to help yourself to snacks. Oh and if you break something, just blame me," Hattie’s said, already heading over to the house and kicking off her shoes.

You climb out slower, shoulders tight, heart heavy with nostalgia and another unknown emotion.

The air smells like summer and cut grass and something painfully familiar.

You barely get three steps toward the house when it happens.

A sharp blast of cold—sharp enough to steal your breath.

Water. Full-force. Right in the face.

You stumble back with a yelp, arms flailing, mouth open in shocked protest. Your shirt clings instantly to your skin, your shoes squelch against the driveway, and your hair drips into your eyes like the universe just slammed a bucket over your head.

It takes you two full seconds to realize what’s happening.

Another two seconds to process why.

And then—

You hear him.

"Shit-shit I'm so sorry."

You swipe water out of your eyes just in time to see him:

Oscar.

Standing a few meters away near the side of the house, holding a green garden hose like he’s just been caught committing a crime.

There’s a half-coiled mess of hose at his feet.

A patch of wet concrete where he was probably cleaning something… watering something… doing some dumb, harmless chore until you became collateral damage.

His face goes bright red.

Like full, sunburn-instantly kind of red.

He looks absolutely horrified—but also like he’s fighting the urge to laugh because the situation is objectively ridiculous.

"I—Jesus—I didn’t see you—"

He’s already fumbling to turn off the nozzle, stepping on the hose by accident, making the water spray even more before he finally gets it under control.

"I was—cleaning the patio! I didn’t—You—Wow, you’re… yeah. Properly soaked."

He scratches the back of his neck, awkward and sheepish and every bit the boy you remember, just… older now.

And The worst part, the truly stupid, gut-twisting part? Is that he dosent recognize you.

Your left hand instinctively twitches, just slightly.

Not even a flicker of recognition behind his smile.

Just that classic Oscar Piastri look of "haha oops my bad" mixed with "please someone end this social interaction immediately."

Hattie, from the porch, absolutely loses it laughing.

You stand there, dripping, heart in your throat, staring at the boy who saved your life once…

... Who also happens to be the one who just accidentally drowned you with a garden hose giving you a 'warm' welcome.

You blink at him.

Water dripping from your chin.

Your clothes sticking in all the worst places.

And for one stupid, self-destructive second, you consider saying his name.

Just to see if it lands.

Just to see if anything flickers in that clueless face of his.

But you don’t.

You’ve played this game before.

So instead, you force a breath through your lungs, swipe wet hair out of your eyes, and smile—tight and sarcastic and just a little feral at the edges.

"Cool. Love this. Really missed this climate change simulation experience," you say, gesturing down at yourself like a tragic weather report.

Oscar lets out this small, nervous laugh—too high, too boyish, like he doesn’t know where to put his hands or his eyes.

"Honestly… fair. That was—yeah. That’s on me," he says, already backing up a step like distance will make this less embarrassing for him. "Do you—uh—want a towel? Or…like… new clothes? I think Hattie’s got stuff? Or—"

"You think? Wow, very reassuring," you deadpan, but there’s no real heat in it.

Hattie’s still doubled over laughing from the porch.

"Bro I’m never letting you live this down," she wheezes at Oscar. Then, to you: "C’mon, come inside, I’ll get you something dry. You’re gonna catch a cold and it’ll be his fault, which honestly? Hilarious for me."

You follow her in.

Dripping the whole way.

Oscar stands there for a second longer, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks still pink, before finally turning back to whatever disaster project he was in the middle of.

Inside, the house is warm in that too-many-people, too-many-memories kind of way.

The air smells like whatever Hattie’s momz Nicole, was baking earlier.

There’s music playing faintly from someone’s phone speaker in another room.

Laughter from down the hall.

Normal.

Like that whole embarrassing, heart-stopping, water-soaked moment never even happened.

Hattie throws you a dry oversized hoodie and a pair of leggings, and you changed in the bathroom with your heart still racing in your throat.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a second too long.

Hair damp and messy.

Neck flushed pink from sun and nerves.

You looked like a girl trying way too hard to look unbothered.

You roll your eyes at your reflection.

Stuff it all down.

Smile like none of this means anything at all.

When you step back out into the hallway, back into the noise, the laughter, the small talk.

You do it like you’re not drowning all over again

░░░░░░░ ✸

There’s clean laundry mixed with dirty laundry like they’re negotiating a peace treaty on the floor. Her desk’s buried under a pile of textbooks and skincare empties. Three different water bottles sit abandoned like ghosts of hydration attempts past.

You throw yourself dramatically onto her bed anyway, half-damp and still slightly cold from earlier. The oversized hoodie she gave you swallows your hands, sleeves hanging like emotional armor.

Hattie flops down next to you with all the grace of a dropped bowling ball.

"Sooo," she starts, already smiling way too wide. "How’s it feel to be back? Aside from the whole… accidental drowning thing."

You groan into her pillow. "Yeah, loving the full theme park experience. Got the welcome spray package and everything."

She laughs—loud, bright, no filter like always.

"Honestly? Worth the wait just to see your face when it hit you. Like, peak betrayal. If I’d had my phone out? I would have sent it to the group chat, they would have loved it."

You glare at her. "I hate you."

"You love me."

"Unfortunately."

You steal a gummy worm from the open bag near her nightstand like you’ve earned it.

You catch up in the lazy, sprawling way you always do.

You giving vague updates about uni that make your life sound way less lonely than it actually is.

Her complaining about the boys in her classes who look like 'sewer rats'.

She tell you about her most recent situationship—a disaster with a dude in her media studies group who thought 'boundaries' was a suggestion, not a rule.

It’s easy to fall back into this.

Like muscle memory.

Like you’re both still seventeen and none of the hard stuff ever happened.

And then, because Hattie can’t help herself, she drops it:

"Also, in case you somehow missed it... Oscar’s home for some time."

You snort.

Because obviously you knew.

"Yeah," you say casually, popping another gummy worm into your mouth. "Kinda figured when he turned the garden hose into a tactical weapon."

"God, I’m still laughing," she grins. "He’s helping Dad with the yard and stuff. I think it’s some weird post-season coping thing. Like… manual labor therapy? Or avoidance of sitting still for more than five minutes? Classic Oscar stuff."

You hum like you’re only half listening.

Even though your stomach does this stupid twist at the mention of him.

Hattie keeps going, all fond and oblivious.

"You’ll probably see him around. Just… ignore him if he’s weird. You know how he is. Social skills set to ‘buffering.’"

"Yeah," you say again, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it’s suddenly fascinating. "Not like I’m new to that."

Hattie doesn’t catch the double meaning.

Why would she?

To her, Oscar’s just her brother.

To you…

Well.

That’s a whole different story.

░░░░░░ ✹

The house is dark.

That kind of late-night stillness that feels like it’s holding its breath.

Your phone screen says 4:07 AM, glowing pale and too bright in the dark.

Jetlag sits thick and restless in your body, too tired to sleep, too wired to stay still.

You’ve already flipped the pillow over twice. The blanket feels both too much and not enough.

By 4:12, you give up.

You shuffle through the hallway, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, socks making soft sounds against the floorboards.

The air smells like dust and eucalyptus and leftover summer heat trapped in old wood.

You’re halfway to the kitchen, bleary-eyed and more ghost than person, when you catch the faintest sound of running water ahead.

The fridge door’s open. Light spills across the floor and there he is.

Back turned at first. Shoulders hunched. Hoodie hanging loose off him like he got dressed in the dark.

His hair’s a mess, flattened on one side and sticking up wildly on the other, like sleep never sat still on him for long.

You stop in the doorway.

He moves like muscle memory—grabbing a glass, filling it at the sink with slow, lazy movements.

Till he finally turns.

Eyes lift.

Land on you.

For one too-long second, he just… blinks.

Like you startled him awake. Like it takes him a full heartbeat to register you standing there in Hattie’s ridiculous borrowed hoodie, with a 'not today' and a dog in a sunglass printed in front, hair slightly damp, looking as tired as you feel.

The fridge door clicks shut behind him.

Neither of you says anything.

Just…

Something heavy and strange and unnameable sits between you.

But you don't dare look away.

That look.

The air shifts.

taglist : @karlosslanders @plastrizz @charlottes-ngvot @siennaluvshcky @cinderellawithashoe @zannete @lonelyladyghost @agaabara @utopiakys @elisaa-shelby @cdej6 @mits-vi @agaabara @wilmonyibo7 @haunteddestinykryptonite@edgyficuselastica@dollyvuu @shadowreader07

@cherierot 2025 all rights reserved

lmao first time I posted this—I forgot the tags🤡

[nymphaura777]

HELLO, THIS IS A SUCCESS STORY!!!

Right now, as I’m writing these words, I am crying tears of happiness. My biggest dream was to come back to Tumblr one day with a success story. I first learned about Void State in 2022 from an Instagram manifest blog called @/moncherry (whose account is now closed). Since that day, I became obsessed with it. (If there are people obsessed with Void State and as a result delaying their lives and sinking deeper, don’t feel alone because I was exactly like that.) From 2022 until June 14th, if you ask me how many times I truly tried Void State, the count probably wouldn’t exceed the fingers on two hands. “I’ll try tomorrow,” and “I just turned over and fell asleep” were my habits. But I realized that I was constantly postponing my life this way and decided to take the reins of my life back. Since the beginning of June, I stuck to one plan — ‘DON’T MOVE’. I know it sounds like a very limiting belief, but it worked for me. I chose the late hours when I wasn’t sleepy, between 9 pm and 10 pm, to keep my brain awake with caffeine, lying on my back in the starfish position, and I didn’t move after that time. Here’s what I did, step by step:

Wim Hof breathing technique (about 10 minutes)

Any Yoga Nidra meditation (about 30 minutes)

This way, you stay motionless for 40 minutes but your mind remains awake. Then I use a Void State meditation I recorded with my own voice. I’m sharing the text below for you:

Void State Meditation Script: “Find a place where you can feel comfortable. Make sure your body is as comfortable and relaxed as possible. It’s very important to take your time preparing your body for this practice. If needed, pause, take a deep breath, and come back when you feel ready. When you feel ready, lovingly close your beautiful eyes and allow your awareness to gently turn inward. Gently focus your attention on your breath; notice your belly expanding as you inhale and relaxing as you exhale, maybe feeling a sense of relief.

Let gravity do its work. Feel all the muscles in your body relax and release: your head, face, neck, shoulders, arms, hands... your chest, back, belly, hips, legs, and feet becoming heavier. Because right now, they don’t need to do anything. Whisper gently to your body: “Body, it’s time to relax now. I give you permission to relax.”

With each breath in, fill yourself with deep relaxation, and with each breath out, let all tension flow out of your body. Breathe naturally, at a rhythm that feels good to you, without overthinking it. Trust that even if you don’t consciously understand, your body benefits from this process and is doing what’s right for you. Knowing that your body understands, allow yourself to let go even more.

Now, imagine a vast and dark emptiness in your mind. An infinite, silent, shapeless space... This emptiness gently surrounds you, all your thoughts, feelings, and worries dissolve into this darkness. You no longer need to do anything; you simply exist. All remaining thoughts drift away like clouds floating in the sky. Your body’s boundaries become indistinct; you are now pure awareness in this infinite space. This emptiness fills you with peace; here there is no time, no place, no right or wrong.

Allow the darkness to envelop you. In this void, feel a nameless peace slowly wrapping around you. As this peace deepens, notice a light being born inside. This light is soft, warm, and reassuring. It slowly expands, enveloping your entire being, filling you with love and tranquility. Now, realize that this light actually comes from within you. Fully surrender to this moment.

Rest peacefully in this space for a while. Whether you stay in the endless darkness or watch a colorful display within it doesn’t matter. Trust that this moment and space are with you. With every inhale, notice how good this emptiness and light feel, and with every exhale, sink deeper into relaxation.

When you’re ready, on your next inhale, feel deep gratitude for this darkness and emptiness. Hold your breath and feel your body filling with a sense of lightness. When ready, notice this lightness spreading through your entire body and touching every cell. A sense of enlightenment arises within you; you realize you have the power to choose what your mind perceives, choosing non-judgment and acceptance. You can rest in this feeling as long as you want. Carry the peace, trust, and acceptance this experience gives you inside.

Now, I will count down from 10 to 1. With each number, you will feel closer to the void state: 10: Keep focusing on your breath. 9: Feel yourself getting closer. 8: Take one more step closer to the void in your mind, body, and emotional state. 7: Notice how wonderful it feels to breathe. 6: You are entering the void state. No struggle, no problem, no doubt. 5: You’re very close, feel how near you are. 4: You become one with the void. 3: Closer than ever before. 2: Almost fully in the void state. 1: You are now completely in the void state.”

You can either record this with your own voice or use a text-to-speech app to turn it into audio.

After the meditation, the next step is tricking the brain. Without moving, and with eyes closed, move your eyes left, right, down, and up. 1-2 minutes is enough.

Then comes a robotic affirmation: “I am the Void. I am aware that I am in the void state right now.”

Your body will already be relaxed and numb from immobility, your brain between dream and reality. When the moment comes when all sounds fade away, your entire destiny will change. This was my journey. To make your life even better than your dreams, all you need is 1 to 1.5 hours of not moving, relaxing, and affirming. It’s that simple.

What I have achieved:

୨୧ An extraordinary, never-before-seen facial beauty — green feline eyes, Russian lips, and a Cindy Crawford nose.

୨୧ Slim, narrow shoulders and rib cage, a slender waist and abdomen, proportionate wide hips, and long model-like legs.

୨୧ Hairless, crystal-clear skin free from all skin issues (Goodbye to eczema I had for years).

୨୧ Perfect, flawless, full, soft, shiny, non-frizzy, never breaking, never smelling bad, never greasy, healthy, and always beautifully scented thick wavy light brown hair.

୨୧ Always super clean, attractive, sexy, and sweet-smelling everywhere. Never sweat or smell bad. No sweat stains ever. My clothes and underwear always smell very clean, nice, and sexy. Both my bathroom visits always smell good. No sounds from the bathroom, no discharge, no gas or burps. This doesn’t harm my health.

୨୧ Graduated from Yale Law School and currently accepted to Harvard Law School for my master’s degree.

୨୧ A passive income job earning $15,000 per month and a $5,000 scholarship for my master’s degree.

୨୧ Currently living in a Bosphorus-view loft apartment in Istanbul, with a Mercedes iX.

୨୧ All the skincare products, Dyson, Apple devices, luxury cosmetics, books, cameras, and more from my Pinterest wishlist.

୨୧ My sister overcoming PCOS, and a summer house in Muğla for my mother.

୨୧ Meeting the man of my dreams in the summer of 2026.

And countless other details I can’t list here…

Learning Void State — even if years pass — never lose hope, and remember that something that has never happened before might just happen in one day. Let this be the moment your luck turns around. Thanks to all the Tumblr blogs, I am grateful beyond words. Now, to live the best summer of my life, I’m going to the Bahamas with my sister and my closest three friends. (And yes, I manifested my friends too ;) )

— OPIA (maybe I’ll use this nickname to share motivational talks and thoughts again. I love you all <3)

OHHHHH MYYYY GODDDNESSSS, CONGRATULATIONSSSSSS LOVEEEE AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING THIS TO ME!!!!!!

DID YOU SEE FOLKS??? HOW EASY IT IS TO INDUCE VOID!!????? GOODDDDDD I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!!!

HAVE THE BEST LIFE AHEAD OPIA! 💗✨THIS SUCCESS STORY MADE MY FREAKING DAY!!!

[squish--squash]

smth that always makes me so emotional about wind breaker is that it feels kind

I've watched a handful of shonens in the past, especially in my middle school and early high school days. hxh was one of my firsts, and mha wasn't that far behind it now, I'm not saying these two are mean stories per say, but if you pluck the main characters and just look...both of them go through so much pain throughout the story. the reader gets to watch it happen over and over. they're put through the wringer, and the world around them isn't very kind to them. I never finished hxh when I watched it back in middle school; the chimera ant arc hurt me too much, and I couldn't make it through the arc. similarly, I slowly stopped watching mha after a good side character died (the first death of many for that series, from what I've heard)

but wind breaker is different.

the worst of what's happened to our main cast so far has all happened in the past. they're older wounds, or we don't get to see the metaphorical knifes cut their hearts and souls open.

what we, the readers, get so see over and over is not their pain and agony, but the recovery of it.

(manga spoilers below cut, sorry anime-only peeps)

we get to learn in a flashback of umemiya's family and the accident that caused their deaths, we get to learn of his grief and the agony he experienced. but seeing his pain wasn't the whole point of the flashback: it was to see him healing from that tragedy. it was to establish just how important some of umemiya's characteristics and habits are to him, not formed out of his trauma and grief, but out of the recovery and healing process.

we're recently been shown that kiryu's family life is far from ideal. the constant fights, the isolation, the tension and fear and hatred. but we also get to see the worst is now behind kiryu and akari now. we get to learn that akari is stronger than expected, that she's been holding her own and has a plan, that she hasn't been broken by this. their futures are looking brighter by the day.

as the story progresses, we're learning more and more about sakura and what it was like before makochi. ostracization. neglect. open hatred. stuff that makes my heart shatter every time I think about it. but that traumatic background isn't the POINT. all of that, although haunting and lingering in sakura's bones, is in the past. he's not there anymore, he's somewhere better. he's growing, he's healing, and learning the world and warmer and kinder than he thought it ever could have been.

yes, there's still pain. yes, there's still things that hurt. but the worst of it has already been crossed before the story even begun (at least for now...I can't say with 100% certainty something from sakura's past isn't going to rear its head at some point). wind breaker isn't about showing pain and blatantly overcoming hardships and growing through the tragedy, it's about healing, about growing through that recovery.

with other shonens, you might wonder to yourself if the main characters are going to be okay by the end of the series.

with wind breaker, you know sakura is going to be okay. and, in a way, it feels like wind breaker is trying to tell you that you're going to be okay, too.

[creatingblackcharacters]

You don't have to answer if it ain't appropriate, but as a Black person, it kind of weirds me out when non-blacks throw around terms like lynch mob as being equivalent to anyone being mildly critical or mean to them. I see it occur in a lot of online discussions when people talk about media, with very little respect to Black people, and anti-blackness makes that term so loaded.

(Once again, you don't need to answer this because I know it's a weighty and triggering subject matter, but with pieces like Sinners and other media, it's making me think about how aspects of Black trauma are often trivialized and disregarded.)

Yeah, I feel what you mean. While lynching itself includes anyone under the definition, it absolutely brings forth a violent antiblack history that people don't seem to realize they're invoking when they use it lightly to suggest they're under attack over comparably lighter deals. ESPECIALLY when no one here is ever willing to deal with actual targeted antiblack attacks on this app.

Because they've seen digital lynch mobs come after Black bloggers and bloggers of color on here to get their blogs removed. Crickets. There are even still real lynchings in this country. Trayvon Martin's death, for example, was a lynching. But tell someone that their raceplay fic has Implications™ and SUDDENLY-

It'd be one thing if they actually knew what they were talking about, but even then, if they knew you'd like to think they wouldn't do it. Unfortunately, I'm learning that the boundaries are growing ever thinner; the line that can't get crossed continues to get further and further away. I cannot say at this point just how many words that we use to describe serious, important things will be trivialized into non-meaning, just that it continues to happen.

[creepykuroneko]

A lot of people in the notes keep complaining that it's okay to have adult content that does not contain explicit sex scenes. I feel like they are 100% missing the whole point of this post.

Its true no piece of media NEEDS to have a sex scene in it, but if you know anything about conservative Puritan societies, you would be rooting for the sex scenes.

The LIE "we're protecting children" is the excuse used to beat down anyone and anything that doesn't fit into nice clean white, middle class, abled body, cishet, Christian values.

If you have not seen the documentary this film is not yet rated, I highly recommend doing so. It talks about Hollywood's double standards and hypocrisy when it comes to what type of violence and sex is considered acceptable in movies and what is not. Men masturbating on screen completely acceptable. Women masturbating on the screen unacceptable. Men having an orgasm on the camera a okay but a woman having an orgasm on the camera is a no no. Women being raped, beaten, tortured, and murdered is okay. Women having lesbian sex is not.

This horror movie is about a teenage girl who after being let down one too many times by society, starts to kill her rapists one by one? "Can't have that! It's too violent! How is that child appropriate?"

Don't even get me started on the fact that homophobes assume that being gay automatically makes you a sexual deviant. It doesn't matter if a movie/show has zero sex scenes in it, no "crude" or "offensive" humor, if there is a queer couple in it, that's basically an orgy in the eyes of conservatives. Andi Mack anyone? Bluey? I remember in a interview with Alex Hirsch, he talked about how in the Gravity Falls episode Love God, he originally wanted two elderly women to fall in love with each other, but the censors said absolutely not.

Movies that show black joy, black couples having a happy, intimate, romantic, sexual relationship are often put on the back burner. Keep in mind with how little representation Hollywood gives black voices, especially ones that are not harmful stereotypes, it's important for black people to see themselves represented in the media as being happy. Then you also have to acknowledge the fact that when black people make black movies for black audience, they get terrible funding, little to no advertising, and limited run in theaters. Regardless of if a black movie is meant to discuss social issues or it's just the campy movie that happens to star a all black cast, many non black people assume it's automatically political because its made by black people and feel that it would not be a all age is appropriate movie. Despite the fact that they know nothing about the movie and the reality that kids need to be taught about everything. We already know that children in elementary school already start to experience racism from their peers. So I assure you, watching racially diverse films it's the least of society's problem.

Horror is my absolute favorite genre. I'm not saying it's never problematic or you can't criticize it, there are movies that definitely deserve criticism. Sorry, stay with me here I'm about to break this down into two topics.

Horror is good for children. It helps give children a safe contained space to explore different issues, scenarios, and topics that can really help get the critical thinking going. A child reading a book about another child who gets kidnapped and is able to escape from their kidnapper because they figured out how to free themselves is actually good information. It's easy to laugh it off as it's not real life but let's be honest, we know that bad things happen in the real world all the time. Think about how many conservatives get angry when sex ed in schools is brought up because they think it's inappropriate for children to learn? They also don't like media that specifically gets into consent. It's because a lot of them turn out to be pedos themselves. They don't want the children they are abusing to catch on that they need to tell another adult about it.

Horror is the only genre I can think of that features the most physically and mentally diverse characters out there. Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that the plots are usually ableist. Going back to some constructive criticism needs to be had. At the same time though I can think of over a dozen horror movies off the top of my head with real disabled actors in them. How many movies can you think off the top of your head that are not under the horror genre that feature disabled characters? The 1930 film freaks, features a cast of disabled characters. The film was banned for decades because it was considered "grotesque". When American Horror Story freak Show came out, it was very heavily influenced by Freaks. There's some really good interviews with the cast about how they don't find being called a freak offensive. They explained their disabilities, what their life is like, and what they want people to know about them. Despite the title, the cast is very open about sharing their voice and being open with their disabilities. You also have iconic horror actor like Javier Botet who is very open about the fact that he has Marfan syndrome. Botet does not necessarily do child friendly horror but a lot of kids do see his horror movies and love him. Oftentimes when I speak with families of a child with Marfan syndrome, Botet is the first real world example of a famous person with the same condition as the children. It absolutely makes children happy to see that their favorite monster on screen has the same disability as them. Granted this is not true for everyone with Marfan syndrome. I have met people with Marfan syndrome who hate the horror genre and that is okay. Have also met other people with marfan syndrome who love horror films and love seeing actors with the same disability as them.

Child media is so heavily censored as it is. Adult media does not need to be handled with kid gloves as well. Children should not be watching cocomelon because we already know it rots their brains, adults really don't need to be fed cocomelon-esque type of slop. Sorry/not sorry for going on a long rant there. We need diverse stories with diverse characters in them. Adults deserve to have good media that yeah touches on issues that make SOME people uncomfortable. To the person who experiences discomfort watching certain types of media, what exactly is it that makes you uncomfortable? If it's a burry your gays Trope or poc, disabled, and women's lives are disposable while the white man lives I can understand disappointment at seeing your life devalued time and again. If you are outrage though because we got to see the actresses nipple, the rapist priest got decapitated, a group of Native Americans are killing the group of white zombies who are trying to kill them, the white abled body cishet man is the only character to die, or God forbid we should see a black woman kissing an Asian woman, then you need to sit in the corner and unpack that.

hot take possibly? but i actually think it’s okay for things to be marketed for adults. it’s literally okay if things aren’t suitable for children. i feel like we are losing the plot

[bearforcecaptions]

It’s my cologne.

That’s where it begins for most of them — but especially for him.

The scent hits first. It always does. Leather and smoke, with warm notes of aged cedar, worn tobacco, musk that clings to the lungs like memory. But under it all — beneath the rich, masculine perfume I distilled over years of trial and private experimentation — there’s something that doesn’t come from any bottle. Something that wraps around the mind like a warm fog. Gentle. Heady. Opening.

I don’t need to touch. I don’t need to command. All I need to do is be there — and breathe.

He was straight when I met him. The real kind. The kind that walks around with a cocky grin, a worn baseball cap, and no real awareness of how much of his identity is just noise. His voice was always a little too loud. He always looked like he was performing for someone, though I don’t think he ever figured out who. Confident in the way young men are when no one’s ever made them doubt themselves — yet.

That gym was full of them. Shaved chests, neon tanks, cold stares. They glanced at me sometimes — older, heavier, hairier — then looked away like they hadn’t. He was no different. The first few times, anyway.

Until he caught my scent.

I was sitting on the bench near the back corner, toweling off, the cologne still fresh on my beard and chest. I saw him walk past, mid-conversation with a friend, mid-laugh. Then I saw him stop. A beat too long. Just a breath. That’s all it took. His laugh cracked. His eyes flicked to me, puzzled. I didn’t even smile. Just met his gaze. Let the scent do its work.

He wouldn’t remember that moment. I made sure of it. It would dissolve into the background of his day, like a skipped beat — like forgetting why you walked into a room. But his body remembered. His brain learned something, in ways his conscious mind couldn’t grasp.

That’s the trick of it. The cologne doesn’t shove. It seeps. It convinces.

He started changing his schedule. I didn’t ask him to. He just started arriving when I was there. He told himself it was coincidence. That he liked the quieter hours. But I watched him — how he lingered near me, how he seemed distracted, a little more uncertain around me than anyone else. That cocky smile softened when he talked to me. He forgot to perform.

He asked about my cologne on the third week.

“What is that stuff you wear?” he said, with a nervous chuckle. “Smells… I don’t know. Good. Strong.”

I just said, “Something I make myself.” And that was enough.

He didn’t notice the way his breathing changed when he got close to me. How his body leaned in. How his shoulders dropped a little. He didn’t question why he started listening to me more — why when I gave advice, he followed it, even when it contradicted everything he’d done before.

I told him he’d look better with a beard.

Two weeks later, he stopped shaving. He told me it was just laziness. He said it offhandedly, as if he barely noticed. But I saw him stroking it while we talked, tugging the edges while his eyes flicked toward mine, waiting for approval. When I reached out and touched his cheek — thickening with scruff — he didn’t flinch. He just smiled. Nervous. Flushed. Obedient.

He still thought he was straight. That was important.

He still dated girls for a while. Still posted their pictures, still made the occasional comment about “getting laid.” But there was something hollow in it. The way someone sings along to lyrics they don’t understand. He was going through the motions, but the heat was gone. The hunger.

Meanwhile, I was in his dreams.

He wouldn’t tell me at first. But it leaked out, slowly, as it always does. The confusion. The vividness. The way he could feel the heat of my body, smell my chest hair, the weight of it — heavy, masculine, real. He said it like he was confessing something. I just smiled and rubbed his shoulder.

He stayed longer each night. Claimed he lost track of time. We’d sit on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, his breathing slower when I was near. Sometimes his head would tilt, just barely, until it touched me. He never apologized. Never pulled away. And I never said a word.

By then, the changes were more than social. His clothes shifted. He stopped wearing flashy brand names. He bought flannel. Heavier jeans. Real boots. He told me he was “trying a new look.” He didn’t remember where the idea came from. I did.

I helped him cut his hair shorter, rougher. Said it brought out his jaw. It did. He looked good. He always had. He just hadn’t known how to be seen before.

He stopped waxing his chest. That was my rule. I wanted him natural. I wanted him mine. The first time he stripped off his shirt and I saw the new growth — darker, denser, thicker — he blushed. I stepped forward, placed a hand on his chest, and said softly, “Good.”

He didn’t speak. But he stood a little straighter.

He sleeps in my bed now.

I never told him to. He just… started. A few nights a week, at first. Then every night. His old apartment’s still out there somewhere, but it doesn’t matter anymore. He has a toothbrush here. A drawer. A place by my side. And in his mind, this has always been the way it was going to be.

He calls me “Daddy” now. Not with a wink or a smirk. Not in some playful, performative way. He says it like it’s my name. Says it softly when I brush past him. Whispers it when he wraps his arms around me at night, burying his face in my chest hair, breathing me in like he needs it to sleep.

And he does.

When he’s away from me too long, he gets restless. Fidgety. He doesn’t know why. Can’t explain it. But when I pull him in and press his face to my beard, I feel the tension leave his body. Like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.

He never questions it.

Never wonders why his old self feels like a stranger now. Never wonders when exactly he stopped wanting women, or why the thought of obeying me feels so right, so natural. Why hearing “good boy” makes him close his eyes and smile.

Because he doesn’t remember who he was.

He thinks he’s always been this way — mine. Submissive. Devoted. Gay. In love with his big, hairy Daddybear.

And he is. Because I made him that way.

All it took was a little patience. A slow hand. A warm embrace. And a scent that slipped into every crack of his mind, filling the spaces he didn’t know were empty.

It’s my cologne.

And he’s mine.

Now. Always.

[twilightofthesandwiches]

I just went through close to all of your deltarune analyses I think??? They’re really well thought out and made connections to things I haven’t seen anyone talk about !

I’ve been thinking about what the prophecy that susie saw could’ve said. I’ve seen both speculation that it could be a tragedy directly relating to the heroes, or alternatively that it’s a disaster involving Hometown or the Dark Worlds at large. Whatever it is, it was enough for Ralsei to want to bear the knowledge of alone. And it was enough for Susie to punch the glass and insist it would never happen.

I wanted to know if you have any ideas/theories on what it could possibly be??

Part of me feels like it may be too early on for anyone to definitively guess what it might’ve said, but on the other hand- we’re four chapter in and there’s so much foreshadowing from the moment you start the game

(if you’ve already talked about this and I missed that, I apologize !!)

First things first, thank you so much for your kind words!

I think I did get an ask about the whole Prophecy Thing before and I think my answer was indeed something along the lines of "it may be too early on for anyone to definitively guess what it might’ve said", but I actually have more Thoughts about it now and I was considering making a post about it, so maybe it's a good thing you sent this ask lol

So basically, I'm thinking again about Ralsei's hopes of changing the Prophecy through Kindness

Which I now realize was foreshadowed all the way back in Chapter 1.

Like, I think in retrospect, this whole moment at the end of the King Battle

isn't just Ralsei learning a hard but important lesson about not letting your kindness be exploited, I think it's also kinda Ralsei resigning himself to the idea that his plan to subvert the Prophecy via kindness and pacifism is probably going to fail.

So... it's probably something Ralsei thought he could prevent by being nice and resolving conflicts non-violently, right? I see Ralsei's hope for breaking the Prophecy being being 'nice enough' as a mirror of a Player who, despite knowing Deltarune only has one ending, still insist on going True Pacifist and hopes it will make... some sort of difference.

(You know, like me!)

But my reasoning in regards to my actions as the Player is that I suspect that the Ending of the game will always be a happy one for us, it's just that my actions will determine whatever this happiness feels just and deserved or if it'll be recontextualized as being about an ultra-powerful time-manipulating asshole being allowed to get away with all of the bullshit they did.

Clearly with Ralsei and the rest of the Delta Warriors this is not what's going to happen, there is some sort of inevitable terrible doom that Ralsei tried to stop by just being as nice as possible. So... what could it possibly be that he thought befriending every possible enemy could prevent? That realizing King will never accept his Mercy genuinely shook his hope that preventing it possible?

And I don't think this necessarily has anything to do with the Titans cause Ralsei seem to have always fully understood there is nothing Mercy can do for them....

And, I know one of the more popular speculations about what the Final Prophecy could be is that Ralsei will have to pull a Heroic Sacrifice of some sort, hence why he's so big on thinking himself as less important than the Lightners and that they should all accept that he'll be discarded and abandoned eventually.... but....

The thing is... Ralsei is so certain about his lack of worth and general disposability and is only now starting to really process how much he means to his Lightner friends. So... would he be talking about "just" his own death as some terrible fate for the Lightners? Right from the very start of the game, before they ever did actually grow fond of him?

I... guess you can read it as a very relatable and understandable sort of self-contradiction. Ralsei at the same time believing that he is disposable and that his demise shouldn't make the Lightners worried... but also secretly kinda hoping that he'd be valued enough as a friend that his death will be mourned and that his new friends would want to do all that they can to prevent it if possible?

Still, with how deep into the "please just forget about me it's no big deal it's my role to sacrifice myself for your happiness" juice he usually is, it is weird it never even comes up with all of the Prophecy drama. It seems like even in Ralsei's fucked up worldview the Prophecy is 100% an Unambiguously Horrible Unforgettable Tragedy for Kris and Susie from the very beginning, so I feel like it has to be something where they or their Lightner loved ones are hurt in some manner .

It also doesn't seem to be something heavily involving Noelle (like Kris or Susie being forced to kill her or whatever), since Ralsei talked about her as rather tangential to the Prophecy.

(That's leaving aside the debate of whatever Susie and Noelle might've 'swapped placed' in the Prophecy, which is also a common theory right now. The important point right now is that the role Ralsei thinks Noelle is meant to fulfill seems to be a minor one. So the Final Prophecy wouldn't be something like "the Girl Hero is forced to kill her girlfriend" or "and then our three heroes lose their best friend, the other girl". Cause whatever that's really talking about Noelle or Susie, Ralsei currently thinks it's Noelle and seem to view her as a side character at best)

The Prophecy also repeats the idea that this 'Final Tragedy' will be the only way to 'save the worlds'

So that presumably means that both the Light World and Dark World would still exist in some capacity after 'the Final Tragedy'. Although that still leaves the possibility that specific Light World locations (like Hometown) or specific Dark Worlds will be destroyed... although I find it somewhat unlikely considering, again, Ralsei talking about it as a sad ending for Kris right from the very beginning. Like, it's hard to imagine Ralsei thinking about a Hypothetical Destruction of Castle Town as an 'unfavorable' result for Kris when they barely know it at the moment.

Unless, the 'Worlds' refer to something else, like...

Hmmmm....

I think the best way I found to reconcile all these data points at the moment is that it says something like the Heroes dying (or maybe facing a fate worse than death like being banished to the endless void where the Unused dialogue is)...

...while battling against those they have 'Lost' or 'Forsaken' or 'Abandoned'. Basically a doomed last stand against those the heroes have wronged. Ralsei originally thought he could prevent by... never wronging anyone ever. By making friends and pleasing every Darkner they meet. That way there would be no one the Heroes have 'Dammed' to fight against and thus saving Kris and Susie's lives. But of course... that is not how that turned out...

Even in the best case scenario, King is still around and he's now like the Fate-Designated Slayer of Heroes. Maybe if we're as nice as possible he's the only one, but he'd become a much more formidable foe by the end (acquire his own Shadow Crystal?)... Maybe there are others who are 'Forsaken' no matter what we do?

... It's also possible that 'the Cage' is the only hero destined to die in this battle, or it's the Cage and the Prince, leaving Susie to remain the only one alive at the end of the adventure. Maybe the only way to defeat the Abandoned Ones is by becoming a Monster with a Human SOUL?

Remaining the one one standing but friendless again feels like a very thematically-appropriate tragedy for Susie in specific.

But that's just my wild guess based on how I interpret the information and foreshadowing we have so far... Like we both kinda said, it's very hard to predict this plot point at the moment, when there is still so much we don't know. It's pretty probable the upcoming Chapters will throw in some extra information that will totally change our understanding of the story... but... I think this is my most likely guess at this moment.

[forsaken-headcanons]

This is my first time sending asks and I'm still kinda new to tumblr, kinda nervous so I'll try to keep the headcannon simple

I like to think that Dusekkar liked sword fighting pre-forsakening and sometimes sparred with Shedletsky, I feel like Shed probably taught him and some of the other admins the basics of sword fighting, with Dusekkar being pretty good at it, finding it enjoyable and wanting to learn more techniques and stuff.

Anyways, because the Spectre is dumb and likes torture and nerfing Dusekkar to hell and back, it kinda blocked off (that's the best way I can describe it, hope it makes sense) Dusekkar's memories of sword fighting because having a powerful mage that can also use a sword efficiently is kinda OP. Every time Shed tries to re-teach Dusekkar, he just forgets it again, he can't relearn.

Of course, the Spectre wouldn't be the Spectre without inflicting some form of emotional torment on the survivors so it allowed Dusekkar to keep The Dusekkar (the sword he has in his milestone 4 and his favourite sword) in his cabin but he just can't remember how to use it. He feels like something is missing whenever he looks at it, like he's forgetting something important but he just can't recall anything. Sometimes he feels a sense of joy and excitement when looking at it but those senses are long gone and forgotten. He probably just covers the sword with a blanket or something so he doesn't have to look at it and feel empty whenever he does.

So much for trying to keep it simple, anyways that the headcannon, 3am brain has given me the confidence to finally post a headcannon here :D

wait this is peak... distant memories of better times translated through familiar feelings wrapped in a cocoon of what was once the remembered past... do you think he instinctively tries to correct the grip of something he simultaneously knows nought of its use? a fly with its wings torn off. a staff without its mana. a sword without a master—though, in this case, it lacks one who remembers. tosses him around

[nekoboydreams]

Hellooo! I recently played your game and goodness it was a experience! Honestly the whole circus genre isn’t a favorite of mine but your visual novel just charmed me!

If you have time or want to answer my questions, I hope my ramblings aren’t too much 🤧

Harlequin’s story intrigued me greatly! The poor angel though. Speaking of which, how would Pierrot or Harlequin react to the MC’s name being literally Angel? Unsure if the title of the Angel is symbolic or not. Or even better, if MC’s name is literally Columbina? MC must have some weird backstory for why their parents named them that.

How would the cast react to MC being neurodivergent? Like having autism or ADHD(Attentive or inattentive)? I know the circus has been around for a long time and have adapted to modern society and technology. But I imagine they still have a bit of old souls in them, so would they be unsure how to respond to MC’s neurodivergence? Ex. MC avoiding eye contact or not picking up any social ques, overlay express or not expressive enough, unintentionally getting distracted in conversations, or MC passionately infodumping to Pierrot about their hyperfixation?

What if the MC had a sexuality that’s impossible for them to fall for Pierrot or Harlequin? Like they’re AroAce or lesbian. Would that change any of their minds?

Kinda a sensitive topic, and it may be uncomfortable to answer, if you don’t want to answer that’s alright! But what if the MC had some bad experiences/trauma in the past that relates to anything sexual, and anything sexual or too intimately seductive may disgust them or make them uncomfortable in the present? Once Pierrot or Harlequin figure that out(somehow) would they straight up abandon that behavior to make MC more comfortable or hold back a bit?

Reaction to deaf or mute MC?

Is it possible to get the Harlequin himself jealous?

Questions for YOU! Who is your favorite character in this dating sim? Demo and/or future characters? And who is most fun to write? And the most important question of all, favorite carnival snack?

Thank you so much! I'm glad to know that even if you're not into the theme, my game still managed to catch your attention!

They wouldn't be bothered by the word angel. But Columbina would be something too specific they’d find it strange and would become very curious and intrigued by it.

Yes, they are a bit old-fashioned, but they're incredibly observant. Pierrot would notice certain things very quickly and would soon understand the situation enough to keep interacting with MC in the best way possible.

Pierrot wouldn’t be able to stop feeling, even if MC didn’t reciprocate.

He would learn to hold back maybe avoiding too much physical contact if he started to lose control, so as not to scare MC. Arlequim would have a harder time with that. He’d insist a bit more, but if that didn’t work, he’d change his approach.

Pierrot would learn sign language. Just seeing MC using it would be enough for him to pick up a lot in a short time.

That’s an unusual question! Yes, he does feel jealous though he’s very good at hiding it most of the time.

Oh! This is the first time the question is actually directed at me! haha. I’m honestly unable to pick a favorite at this point. I get too involved with each of their stories and end up loving all of them. Pierrot and Arlequim are really fun to write when they interact with each other it’s like the atmosphere around them is about to explode! Though Jester and the Ticket Taker’s dynamic is also quite interesting.

I’d definitely go for the candy apple! Now I’m curious, what would you choose, anon?

[matchpointfaist]

deeply obsessed with frat!art and theater!reader, could we maybe see them on their first real date?? or maybe even them as the gooey adorable lovey couple that nobody understands but everyone is jealous of ?? <3

i bet if they only knew, they would just be jealous of us

frat! art x theater! reader part two

tw for lowkey judgy friends (patrick my enemy in this)

you hadn’t meant for it to happen this way. a date, if you could even call it that, had been talked about a few times, each time skirting around it like you were both trying to avoid saying the word out loud, afraid it would suddenly turn everything into a thing. but here you were, standing in front of a cafe that smelled like espresso and fresh pastries, and art was waiting for you, leaning against the window like he was trying to look casual, but failing miserably because he was way too excited. you’d gotten a text thirty minutes earlier: you coming? i saved you a seat. no pressure, but there’s a caramel latte waiting with your name on it (literally).

you’d smiled, rolling your eyes at his over eagerness, but it warmed you too, in a way you didn’t expect. it was small, but it felt big, like something important was finally starting to feel like it had a shape. you didn’t text him back, just grabbed your jacket and headed out the door. “you look cute,” he said as you walked up, like it was the most casual thing in the world. his smile was a little crooked, but it was all that energy you recognized from before, slightly too much, but just enough. “you look like you're trying too hard to look cool,” you teased, and he laughed, a quick burst of sound that almost caught you off guard. “fair enough,” he grinned, motioning to the little table inside. you followed him in, and the moment you sat down, he was already asking about your classes, your latest show, your ridiculous theater professor who wore scarves in the summer, like he was genuinely interested in your world, the one that seemed so far removed from his.

but when it was his turn to talk about tennis, you found yourself listening with the same kind of focus. art talked about practice, about a match that had gone unexpectedly well, the feeling of hitting a perfect serve, the adrenaline that came with each point. it was a language you didn’t speak fluently, but you found yourself absorbing it anyway, leaning in just a little bit, really trying to get it. “you’re surprisingly good at this,” he said, after you’d peppered him with questions about his game, “i thought you were just here to make fun of me,” “i’m very capable of doing both,” you smiled, raising your eyebrows. but it felt easier now, easier to share these bits of yourselves, like you were both learning how to speak a language neither of you were completely fluent in.

you were talking about something, some ridiculous thing you’d heard in class, when art’s friend, patrick, came over to say hello. you had heard of him before, of course, but he’d never really seemed to notice you. patrick was that kind of guy, the one who looked at you like you were a riddle he wasn’t interested in solving. “so, uh, you two doing something?” he asked, leaning on the back of the chair, crossing his arms like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. art didn’t miss a beat, “we’re just having coffee, man. calm down,” patrick's eyes flickered between the two of you, the air around them heavy with the weight of something unspoken. “right,” he nodded slowly, clearly not buying it, “well, if you’re not busy after, we’re all going to grab dinner. i guess you’ll be around?”

you glanced at art, who shrugged, but there was an odd glint in his eyes, like he was trying to gauge whether this was a normal invitation or something else. you’d gotten the vibe that patrick was a little skeptical, but there was a hesitation in his voice that made you wonder if you were seeing it right. “sure,” you said before art could reply, your tone light but definitely testing the waters, “we’ll join you,” the awkwardness didn’t last long, but it lingered in the corner of your mind as you continued chatting with art, watching him navigate the conversation like it was all normal. maybe to him, it was. but to you, it felt like something was starting to shift. patrick was looking at you with raised eyebrows every time you said something, like he was taking mental notes, trying to figure out what was going on. you felt that strange, uncomfortable pressure that came when someone from his world was trying to dissect yours. you tried to shake it off. you were just having coffee, weren’t you?

later that evening, you found yourself sitting next to art in a crowded restaurant, trying to focus on the conversation despite the buzz of voices around you. patrick was telling some ridiculous story about a tennis match, but your attention kept drifting to art’s laugh, the way his fingers tapped along the table to some invisible rhythm. "you look like you're about to burst out laughing at something," you said, leaning in closer to him. he just shrugged, but you could tell he was fighting a grin. “just wondering if pat's ever met a stranger he didn’t feel the need to analyze,” you laughed, low and soft, “he’s not the only one who seems to be figuring us out,”

art raised an eyebrow, glancing at patrick across the table, then back at you, “you’re not exactly what i expected,” “and you’re definitely not what i expected,” you said, trying to hide your smile behind your cup. he laughed, “i think that's the best part of it, though,” but before you could respond, patrick interrupted, his voice too loud in the quiet space, “so, seriously, what is going on with you two? are you dating or-” the table fell into an uncomfortable silence. art tensed, his jaw tightening slightly, and you shifted in your seat, suddenly aware of how much you were not supposed to know about this dynamic. you opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, art spoke, “we’re just figuring it out, pat , really,” the brunette didn’t seem convinced, “right. just don’t, like, fall too deep into whatever this is, yeah?”

the words were casual, but there was an edge to them, a tone that made you pause. art shifted, his smile faltering for a moment, but he didn’t say anything in return. he just gave you a tight smile, like he was trying to smooth over whatever tension had risen. you tried to change the subject, but the rest of the night felt a little off. the laughter was more forced, the energy between you two slightly strained. this wasn’t supposed to be hard, you thought. wasn’t this just two people, figuring each other out? but sometimes, you found, even the easiest things came with complications. and maybe it was fine. maybe you were both just learning how to navigate it.

the walk home felt different somehow. quieter, like the noise of the restaurant still hung around you both, too loud to shake off. art was walking beside you, but there was something in his stride that felt just a little too careful, like he was pacing himself in a way he hadn’t before. maybe it was the way patrick's words had settled between you, thin and sharp, a reminder that people were watching. maybe it was the strange feeling that you were both trying to figure out how to make something simple not so complicated. you glanced sideways at him, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched a little as if trying to keep the cold out, even though the air was mild. his golden hair was wild, as usual, and there was a faint trace of a smile on his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“so," you started, voice light, testing the waters. “patrick seems to have a lot of thoughts,” he exhaled through his nose, a soft laugh escaping him, “yeah, he’s got opinions. i’m used to it. it’s just- i don’t know. it feels weird, you know?” “weird?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, “like bad weird, or?” he shrugged, his eyes flicking to you for a moment before quickly darting away, “just weird. like, i don’t know. maybe i do spend too much time with him. but i didn’t think you’d be part of the thing i have to explain to people,”

you stopped walking for a second, the weight of his words sinking in. he was right, in a way. it was one thing to be in your own world with him, where everything felt easy and light. but once you stepped out of that bubble, it felt like people were suddenly dissecting it, trying to figure out if it made sense. like it was some kind of equation you didn’t have the answers to. “well,” you said after a beat, “i’m not that hard to explain,” you smiled, though it felt a little fragile now, more defensive than playful. he stopped too, looking at you like he was trying to read something in your expression. his lips parted, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what. “you know,” he started, voice a little quieter now, “sometimes i think i’ve got this whole life planned out, you know? tennis, the whole thing. and then, this happens, and i can’t really figure out where it fits,” “but you’re figuring it out?” you asked, taking a small step toward him. he didn’t answer immediately.

instead, his eyes dropped to the sidewalk, watching his own footsteps as they crunched softly in the quiet night. then, with a little shrug, he met your gaze again, his expression more open than before. “yeah, i think so. i think i’m just trying to figure out if this, us, is something worth figuring out,” you hadn’t expected him to say it so simply. and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say back. you had always been the one who had to figure things out, to dissect them until they were laid out neatly in front of you, ready for analysis. but this left you without answers. “you know,” you started again, quieter this time, “i don’t have it all figured out either. i’m not exactly the easiest person to understand," you let out a little laugh, half self-deprecating, half nervous, “i mean, this, this weird, messy mix of theater and tennis and whatever else we are, it’s all new for me too. but i’m not running from it,”

his gaze softened, and for a second, the silence between you felt more comfortable, like it didn’t need to be filled. he didn’t look like he was judging or trying to figure it out anymore. he looked like he was... listening. you felt the tension start to loosen in your chest, but just as you were about to speak again, art was already stepping forward, closing the space between you. his hand found its way to your shoulder, lightly resting there, and the sudden touch made your breath catch. “you’re not running from it?” he asked, voice soft, almost like he was savoring the idea. “good. because i think i might want to stick around long enough to see where this goes,” there it was again, the simple, unguarded honesty that you hadn’t expected from him. this wasn’t some grand confession, but the words were exactly what you needed to hear.

without thinking, you found yourself leaning into him slightly, your arm brushing against his, “i think i might want to see where it goes too,” the walk home felt shorter after that. the weight of everything that had been building between you, the uncertainty of what your worlds even meant when they collided, it all faded a little. maybe it wasn’t about figuring everything out. maybe it was just about trusting that something could be figured out, over time, if you were both willing to let it. when you reached your building, you paused at the door, your fingers tracing the edge of your jacket sleeve absently. art stood beside you, his hands back in his pockets, though this time there was something different in the way he looked at you.

“thanks for walking me home,” you said softly, though there was no part of you that really wanted to say goodbye. “anytime,” he replied, his voice low, almost like a promise. you hesitated for a moment, then, without thinking, leaned in quickly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. it wasn’t a grand gesture, but something in the quiet simplicity of it made your heart race. art blinked, surprised, then smiled, his face turning just slightly pink. “so i guess i’ll see you soon?” “yeah,” you said, your hand finding the door handle behind you. “soon,” he stayed there for a second, watching you as if weighing his own words, then nodded with a half grin. “goodnight,” he said, and his voice held something soft in it, like it was the start of something you both hadn’t quite said aloud yet.

“goodnight,” you echoed, hand still on the door, eyes on his. he hesitated, steps faltering with a lack of confidence you weren't used to seeing in him. "can i kiss you?" "oh," you were surprised, only slightly, "i- of course," he pulled you closer, tilting his neck to get closer your height before finally pressing his lips to yours, soft and slow, warm and easy. you blossomed into the kiss, smiling against his lips, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. he pulled away after a moment, not wanting to take it too far, his forehead pressed against yours, "i can't wait to see you again," his words warmed your chest, "i can't either," he finally, begrudgingly, let you go, hovering until he was sure you were inside and safe. you watched him walk away through your kitchen window, fingers brushing against your lips like you could keep him there.

[humunanunga]

(totally didn't straight-up forget this in my drafts)

I was wondering this too, actually, and I'd posted my thoughts here before replaying for the egg and shadow mantle.

Kris' locker is also empty, and as of Chapter 3, that got me thinking. If they had no one to store their personal belongings for them– and Deltarune seems to emphasize over and over that Kris has been failed by the adults around them– maybe everything they wanted to prevent us from accessing is somewhere in Castle Town.

I can't say for sure yet whether Kris created that Dark Fountain themself, but if that's where they'd been safekeeping everything they didn't want the player to interfere with, it makes sense. There are dialogue options, which Kris will muffle, but players haven't been able to harm Ralsei...

...But then there's Mancountry, which I think was what the green crayon got used up for. There's Tenna, Ramb, the Pippins, all of whom tell us so much about Kris. Why? Why is Kris letting their own living room tattle to us?

It feels like no matter how much adds up, I can never get all of the pieces to fit, like there's still too many missing to make any sense of it. The best I can come up with is that they're already so used to having their privacy invaded, they've learned to deal with it, just as long as they could avoid us tossing or damaging anything important to them.

(Tragically, there's only so much they can do to stop us from targeting people...)

Why did Kris create TV World...?

I wonder if Kris purposefully "emptied" their room, just so that the SOUL wouldn't find out about the things they care about. Just to prevent us being too aware of their life, of their likes, so they couldn't be used against them.

Like. We didn't even know that Kris liked playing piano and was GOOD at it, until we asked around town and confirmed it in their room in cyberworld. Because when we DID find out we started forcing them to play the piano, and they kept refusing. We knew about pianos, so Kris started thinking about them, in Ch4 we had a CHOICE to make Kris say "I'll never play piano again" and, depending on the route, they try to stop us from saying it.

It's so dangerous to let a being like us know about Kris themself - we'll weaponize it against them immediately - oh, Kris likes someone? We'll talk to them immediately. Oh, Noelle and Kris were close once? Well...

Being known is being vulnerable. And by learning more about Kris we learn more about the ways we can make them miserable - intentionally or not.

And this is something that Kris and Carol share - Carol keeps everything important at her home, where nothing can harm it, can harm HER. She controls everything, just so she can't be made vulnerable and suffer because of it. But Kris? Kris doesn't have a luxury of privacy. The demon is inside of them, so they have to build a facade of emptiness, just so they can function long enough for The Plan (tm) to work.

[emberphoenixisgoingtolive]

PLEASE READ IF YOU EVER WANT OR DO HAVE KIDS

dear parents,

for disability pride month, here are some prompts for how to react if your child tells you they think they might have a disability

thanks for telling me

i can tell it was difficult for you to say and it's super brave of you to tell me

i love you so much, and i will love and support you no matter what

i'm so sorry you've been in pain/sick/dealing with these symptoms. if there's any way i can help you cope with them, please tell me

i believe that you're struggling and in pain and i trust your perception

you're a whole and wonderful person with or without disability

im proud of your disabled identity and all the parts that make you who you are

i don't know everything about this but i'll learn for you, and we can learn together!

if you think [solution/treatment/mobility aid] might help, it's worth looking into

if you're up for it, we'll research this now

do you want to see a doctor about this?

i can tell you're tired, we can talk more about this another time; right now would you like to [insert fun thing your child likes to do]

would you like to continue talking about this?

and here is how NOT to react and what NOT to say (starring things hoes (my parents) have said):

…a mobility aid? /somewhat disgusted

i don't think that will help your joints get stronger

won't it decondition you/make you worse?

*ignore your child and look into other treatment options before considering what THEY think could work best*

*listen to a doctor over your child. doctors are not always right*

*imply you don't want a disabled child, or you'd prefer they weren't disabled (key note: being disabled for a lot of us is a very important part of our identity and there is deep history, culture and solidarity in the disabled community. and even if we don't like being disabled, what message does it give us that YOU don't like a part of us? what happened to unconditional love?)*

assume that it's mother fucking psycho somatic, ahem, DAD

ADDITIONS FROM @slut-4-remuslupin:

"you think this is hard for you? How do you think *i* feel? I have to watch you like this and take you everywhere, and do xyz, and I was supposed to have my own life again after you turned 18. This is way harder on me.” how the fuck do you think WE feel being in pain/having horrible symptoms all the time????

are you sure you’re not just faking it for attention?

I think that you’re exaggerating your symptoms, there’s no way you could feel like that all the time and still do (xyz)

your problem isn’t that you’re disabled/sick, it’s that you’re lazy and you don’t exercise enough

if you just got up and exercised like a normal person you wouldn’t have these problems

If you’re really so sick that you need that [mobility aid], then you have no business going out and doing stuff, so either you do those things without [mobility aid] or you don’t do them at all

*when your child says they feel really sick, or that they’re in a lot of pain* Oh, here we go AGAIN. It’s always something.

there’s no reason why you should need prescription pain medication. When *I’m* in pain I just take Tylenol and it works fine for me

maybe we should just put you in a care home if you’re really so sick that you can’t do these basic things everyone over the age of 7 should be able to do”

EXERCISE IS NOT ALWAYS THE ANSWER!!! OFTEN TIMES IT WILL MAKE US WORSE ESPECIALLY IF WE DON'T EXERCISE IN A WAY THAT SUITS OUR BODIES!!!

ADDITION FROM @disabled-planet

don't assume it's anxiety. often times it is something completely different that gives similar symptoms (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, for example), or it can be something completely separate from anxiety symptoms. either way, trying to convince us it's anxiety and invalidating our problem is NOT the way to go

[ao3commentoftheday]

I just wanted to drop in and commend the work you do on your Ao3 skins. 🏅

As someone who has been writing CSS for... god, 20+ years??? (like... professionally, as in I am the resident CSS expert at my company) even *I* find the AO3 stylesheet daunting and a hassle to work with. The specificity of a lot of the selectors and the lack of styles that actually 'cascade' without me having to slap "!important" on them gets really tedious for me really fast 🥲

So... you know. When you say "oh I'm just tinkering around/still learning/barely know what I'm doing/etc" please understand that you're genuinely doing impressive work that I KNOW must take a ton of time. It's been yeeeaars since I tried making an Ao3 skin, but know you got me feeling inspired 👀

*hits that kudos button*

Thank you so much 💗🥰 they're a labour of love and I'm glad to know that it's noticed and appreciated!

I play down my CSS skills for two main reasons:

I want people to know how accessible it is to you if you want to learn some basic code and make some wild looking skins with it and

I want people to know that I'll help as best as I can, but there are MANY QUESTIONS I will not have an answer for 🤣

My way of going about creating a site skin is probably pretty divergent from yours exactly because I don't have professional experience with CSS. I have zero expectations when it comes to style sheets and selectors. AO3 is the only website I've ever tried to style (other than my own), so to me all websites could be that arcane. I've never checked 🤷‍♀️

I basically go into a new site skin with an aesthetic and a prayer and then get rabidly obsessed with figuring out how to do One Cool Thing (tm) - like drop cap letters or images in borders or gradients or... - and then I do it in that one skin and promptly forget how to do it before I even get to the next one.

But that's because I find making site skins fun. I love doing wacky things with them. I love taking a fairly basic website design and making it look as complex as the back end really is. I love AO3 and my site skins are a little love letter, I guess. And a way to be creative when other creative wells are kind of dry. And they're a way I can give back to a community that has given me a lot. And they're just a cool fun thing that I want more people to know about and enjoy.

Anyway, not to get all sincere on a post about putting cute outfits on a fanfic website, but that's why I do it. And getting this much attention for it is kind of stressful because I'm always wary of the Attention Beast and not wanting to feed my desire for more of it.

I hope you do decide to make a skin of your own, and if you ever feel like sharing it out with an audience just at me in the post and I'll reblog it 😀 I'd love to see what you come up with!