#I just died a little inside 💔

[salehasposts]

MY GODAMN BABIES I MISS THEM SO MUCH 🥺

[ramonathinks]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓…. — drabbles, blurbs, one shots all dedicated to my one and only [18+ only] and thank you to my bae, sexy lexi ( @sugugasm ) for making this 😚 artwork is by @/karla_drawanime on insta! no minors, blank accounts or ageless blogs

guide -> 🍨— drabbles | 🧁 — one shots | 🍧 — longer fics | 🪷 — fluff | 🍦 — angst | �� — smut

𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 — ahem, yall know how i feel about him 💔, yall know his death killed me several times over. so please don’t rush me on this, plus i am also in school and graduating this year so yeah✋🏾 but a lot of these are already started just not finished. some of the longerrr ones might be removed bc ramona is lazy @karla_drawanime

click here to join the taglist!

꒰ 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓰𝓸 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷 ꒱— “satoru, you’re way too pretty to be a boxer.” you know it and he knows it too, so why must he continue? | cw: sex, etc boxer gojo x reader (nurse in training) 🧁🍦🍰

꒰ 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓵 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻꒱ — male model gojo x makeup artist reader; that’s it, that’s the plot. | cw: banter, make outs and handjobs. 🍨🍰

꒰ 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓭 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻꒱ — one night stand results in a baby and when a member of the gojo clan spots you, she kidnaps your daughter. now you need to call your baby’s father, who doesn’t know he has a child. | cw: one night stand, accidentally pregnancy, angsty 🧁🍦

꒰ 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴꒱ — you’re a professor and satoru gojo is your student, you definitely shouldn’t be fucking him. | prof!reader x camboy!gojo 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 ꒱ — he’s a professional swimmer and you’re just a water girl | cw 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 & 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 ꒱— she’s broken a million hearts before and now he declares that he wants her to ruin his life as well 🧁

꒰ 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾 𝓰𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮꒱— after dating three girls at once, they decide to get revenge using a secret weapon: you 🧁🍰

꒰𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓬꒱ — gojo uses magic to score a date with you. 🍨🪷

꒰𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭꒱ -- you talk to yuuji about gojo. | cw slight angst, jjk spoilers, coping, therapy 🍦🍨

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼꒱ — “satoru, quick question… why is tumblr downloaded on your phone?” or you find out your guy best friend writes fanfiction. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓶꒱ — when gojo finds out that some women doesn’t orgasm from sex, he goes on a conquest to ask the previous girls he fucked — only he gets no replies, until you. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓼꒱— gojo sees you tie a cherry knot with your tongue and dies a little inside. | cw making out 🍨

꒰𝔀𝓮𝓽꒱ — the fraternity is holding a wet tshirt contest, only it’s the guys who’s shirts are wet. | cw 🍨

꒰𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴꒱ — gojo’s a popstar and you hate him, but now after meeting him you can finally see the appeal. | cw

꒰𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 (ft. nanami)꒱ — yes, it’s true: two believed to be dead sorcerers faked their deaths to be with their favorite girl, who’s in malaysia. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓶𝓻𝓼. 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓻꒱ — gojo is speeding and does what he does best to avoid messing up his perfect driving record. | cw oral 🍨🍰

꒰𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 ꒱-- after showing your friends a few text messages you received from an ai bot, you think they’d finally get off of your case of being the “lonely” friend but instead, they wish to meet him. and behold, he’s there in the flesh? 🍰🧁

꒰ 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 ꒱— dared to steal the boxers of the hottest guy on campus seems easy enough, until you find out it’s gojo satoru aka your brother’s best friend. | cw sex

꒰𝓰𝓸𝓭, 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓸𝓾𝓽꒱ -- (rivals to lovers) You’re a hard worker, always have been. You don’t deserve to be paired with the slacker that is Satoru Gojo, who thinks his good looks fame and charm will get him everywhere in life. Paired together in Fashion&Design to create a catalog of the best designs for an extravagant event by the end of their semester, You and Gojo must put aside their petty differences and come together to not only pass the class with high marks but also to get an internship working with two of the top design companies, this of course means nothing to Gojo but everything to you, will you be able to work together with him despite his attitude and get underneath that wannabe slacker exterior to undercover that there’s more there than meets the eye? Or will Gojo leave her on her toes until the end of the semester by forcing her to take on more than she can chew? | cw rivals to lovers, sexual tension, banter, slight angst, harsh family dynamics, eventual sex, making out, kissing, etc. 🍰🍧

꒰𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓘 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂꒱ — awkward, that was the way you were always described. but now freshly 19 and with a body to die for, you’re excited to finally go to your family’s old beach house to unwind for break. until you find out your sister brought her two idiotic best friends. (reader is shoko's step-sister!) 🍰🍧

꒰𝓹𝓾𝓼𝓱 2 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽 ꒱ — you promise gojo if he wins this race, you'll finally let him fuck. | cw: tba🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻꒱ — she’s a mean girl, he’s a nerd… is there really more to say? [based off: “you wanna do it?” “do what?” “fuck” tiktok audio] 🧁🍰

[lubilli]

𝗸𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗰𝘀 ➠ "cutie!"

synopsis: the hashira men when you call them cute/a cutie

ft. rengoku, giyu, sanemi, obanai, muichiro, tengen

warnings: they're all softies here 💔

r. kyojuro

• he was training while you were watching

• "you're doing so well, kyojuro!"

• he was all blushy cuz u complimented him

• he's used to compliments but it just felt different when you did it

• maybe bc you never really compliment anyone

• and maybe bc he has a praise kink

• "awww, kyojuro, you're such a cutie!" you squealed when you saw the pink dusted all over his cheeks

• his brain almost short circuited

• not even joking

• he's been complimented on his looks before.

• he's been called handsome, good looking, but...cutie? that was a new one

• "kyojuro? are you okay?"

• "yes, y/n! i am completely fine!"

• he said that while his cheeks literally looked like tomatoes

t. giyu

• you just got back from a mission looking half dead

• when giyu saw you, his face literally looked like this -> 😨

• how tf did you even manage to hurt yourself this bad..

• he DEMANDS to patch up ur wounds

• that brings you to your current situation, sitting on giyu's bed while he tends to the wounds

• you winced when he got to a certain cut on your thigh, he glares at you

• "you wouldn't be in this situation if you weren't so reckless, y/n." he scolds you

• you just laugh, "you're cute, giyu."

• it takes him a while before he realizes what you said.

• "did you call me..cute?" he furrows his brows

• "yes..because you are cute."

• continues tending to your wound even though he's literally dying inside

s. sanemi

• he's so aggressive its so hard to find him in a vulnerable state

• ur literally the first hashira to see him all calm

• when he's not screaming and yelling, he's actually really cute

• he loves cooking for you

• he's doing that rn

• "is it good?" he asks

• "it's a little salty..."

• "why can't i ever get this recipe right?!"

• he's so frustrated

• he's tried to cook this one recipe 5 times now but there's always a little too much of a certain ingredient

• you chuckle at his reaction & ruffle his hair

• "you're really cute, y'know?"

• wtf did u just say

• did u just call him cute...

• "WHAT'D YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

• those manic eyes found their way back onto his face

• he's yelling at you but you can see the pink dusted all over his cheeks

• you started calling him cute more often

• acts like he hates it but he literally loves it sm

i. obanai

• you started getting close to him recently

• you found out he actually really likes poetry

• you'll just be sitting under/on a tree and he'll be reading his lil poetry books while you're just dreaming

• you think its so cute when he shows you lil poems he really likes

• "this one reminds me of you" he points to a poem on a page

• you shift your attention from the clouds to his book

• it reads, "A faint clap of thunder,

Even if rain comes or not,

I will stay here,

Together with you."

• bro.

• you died

• why is he so cute sometimes

• scratch that, he's always cute bro

• you smiled so big, "you're really cute, obanai."

• you moved a strand of his long hair and tucked his behind his ears, seeing his beautiful heterochromatic eyes.

• he looked at you with so much love bro

• "cute?" he tilted his head

• "yes, so cute."

• he's a mess but he just nods and continues his reading

• although he literally can't focus bc ur now the only thing on his mind

t. muichiro

• you don't know how you even got close to him

• but he will NOT go cloud-watching without you now

• takes you to his favorite spot

• he just talks abt the clouds while you mess around with his hair

• sometimes braiding it, sometimes doing pigtails or ponytails

• "woah," he stares into the sky with awe

• "what happened?" you ask

• "that cloud looks like a turtle." he pointed

• you looked at it and it really did look like a turtle

• "oh and look, that one looks like a heart." he pointed somewhere else

• wtf hes so cute

• "so cute," you squish his cheeks

• he looks at you dumbfounded

• takes him 4-5 business days to process what you just said

• when he realizes his cheeks flushed pink

• he's literally never felt this before

• wtf type of witchcraft did u put on him

• you tilt your head, "what's wrong, muichiro?"

• "i don't know, but my cheeks and ears feel really warm."

• you laugh, "you really are cute, muichiro." you ruffle his hair.

u. tengen

• you and tengen are close friends

• his estate is like your second house

• started getting close to u bc ur flashy in his eyes

• then he got sent on a few missions with you and your bond grew even more

• anyways you were in tengen's estate rn

• "tengen," you frown

• "hm?"

• "my stomach hurts."

• he frowns, "should i get you a heating pad? do you want water? medicine? chocolate? massage?"

• you smile, "its fine. no need."

• "yes need. i'm not gonna let you endure your pain, y/n. that's very unflashy." he crosses his arms

• "you're such a cutie, tengen."

• he lifts a brow, "cutie? yes, i suppose being a cutie is very flashy." he nods. "now, tell me what you want—heating pad, chocolate, medicine, water, or massage?"

• "you're so stubborn." you shake your head, "but a chocolate sounds nice."

• "done deal. stay here and i'll get you some."

• he came back w some delicious ass chocolate

• "call me that more often. its very flashy."

• "call you what?"

• "cutie."

• you smile, "your wish is my command." you took a bite of the chocolate.

• he pat your head, "get well soon."

[yinyangyandere]

💔 Gone, But Not Forgotten ll Disney Villain HCs💔

Synopsis; 'How Scar, Frollo, Jafar, Hades, Hook, and Ursula would react to their s/o losing someone close to them'

ll Caution: Discussions of death, somewhat of a vent

A.N.; Man, first post on this blog and it's something sad. What a way to start this whole thing. In any case, I wanted to make a small "vent-imagine" as my own grandmother passed away today. I won't get into too much detail, but I find solace in thinking about my favorite characters helping me during all of this. Sorry if anything's OOC; I'm not the best at writing, and even if these are just headcanons, I still apologize if there's some mischaracterization I accidentally did. But, I hope you enjoy. Have a great day!

ll SCAR ll

Admittedly, he’d be rather standoffish about the subject at first. He’ll still be there beside you as you grieve, but he’s more at a loss of words than anything.

Scar disliked his father, so he didn’t feel too much grief when King Ahadi died protecting the Pride Lands. If anything, he felt more resentment towards him since, with his dying breath, Ahadi had given the title of king towards Mufasa.

However, even if they were distant at times, his affinity towards his mother, Queen Uru, was more apparent. They were more close together, and while he’d never actually say it out loud, her eventual death of old age tore through him. So, in that aspect, he does somewhat understand your pain.

He’ll be more quiet as you process everything, but he’d still offer some words of understanding to you.

If you cry in the attention of others, he won’t do close PDA; he’ll wrap his tail around you and sit close to you though. But if you two are alone, he’ll wrap a paw around you and gently bring you over to do the lion version of a hug.

If you’re okay with it, Scar will give you several licks and allow you to weep in his mane. Even if he may dislike the prospect of dirtying his special source of pride, he’ll allow it for you alone.

“Life is often unfair, but we must keep pushing on. If not for your sake, then let it be for their’s.”

/// ✨ ///

ll FROLLO ll

Out of all the villains, Frollo probably handles what you're going through the best.

Thanks to it being around the 1400s, people passing away were definitely more common, so he was used to any grief you display and assure you that it's alright to cry.

Due to his job of being a figurehead of the Church, he is accustomed to death in general and, while he doesn't officiate the funerals of every single citizen of Notre Dame, he'll gladly do your loved ones.

In fact, he'd probably find a way to be the priest for the funeral even if you were hesitant. Frollo is both persuasive and assertive at once.

It would be a standard, if not slightly more sophisticated, Catholic funeral. Knowing him it would be a burial rather than something like cremation. Otherwise he would probably say some shit like "And send them down to brimstone and fire?! No, they shall be buried and that's final."

Of course, his stony expression doesn't waver before and after the funeral. Though, deep down, he's worried for you. He knows that, after losing someone close to you, you are capable of spiraling down into depression and…the chance of losing you.

He’ll be clingy for a little while, subtle enough for you to not catch attention but enough to make others raise a slight eyebrow.

“My Lord, please watch over my love, for they are currently weak and vulnerable. Allow me to protect them no matter the cost.”

/// ✨ ///

ll JAFAR ll

Jafar’s much like Frollo in how he approaches the situation. On the inside, while he’s truthfully more grateful about the prospect of your attention being more on him in the future, he’s still concerned for your well-being and does wish to help you in any way he can.

He may be a bit overprotective of others coming near you during all of this. God forbid someone, peasant or otherwise, makes fun of you for any reason. It doesn’t matter if they taunt you over you weeping or anything else, he will have their head. Not even to aid him in any magic or sacrifices he tries to do. He’d probably just feed their body to pigs or something.

In normal circumstances, Jafar adores teasing you. However, he’s sensible enough to know not to do so with the problem at hand. While he misses the comebacks you would snap back at him, Jafar would rather not potentially hurt your feelings. He’ll be glad to wait until you feel better.

Remember what I said before about him being grateful for the possibility of your attention being focused more on him from now on? If he notices you’re upset after a while, he decides to shove his pride a bit to make you happy. He asks if, when he’s able to become Sultan, you would be alright with the idea of him actually resurrecting your loved one.

If you say yes, he’ll actually be honest about it. After the Genie grants him his first two wishes, especially the sorcerer one, it will be done post-haste for your sake. If Genie tries to dissuade him from it, Jafar’ll make “the blueberry-pasted moron” zip his trap.

Whether you say yes or no, you’ll ask him how he could do that. After all, despite still being able to do some sorcery, subjects like necromancy are still foreign to him. In response, he’ll grin and say back to you:

“For you, I would remake the world to suit your vision with no qualms. For you, dearest flower; I would do anything for you.”

/// ✨ ///

ll HADES ll

When you tell him the news, crying all the while, Hades would look confused at you for a second.

“Uh, doll? You know who you’re talking to, right?” Oh.

If you ask him if that’s even allowed or not, Hades would laugh and give you a wide smile. Like he cares about “rules” or what not. It’s his Underworld to reign over, not anyone else’s.

He’ll fish out their soul and allows you to see them. It’s a heartfelt reunion, and as both of you cry in happiness, Hades would be standing off to the side like 🧍. 

If both of you agree to it, he’ll also allow your loved one to come back to life as well. If they were old when they died, he’ll make them younger and healthier as a bonus.

He can’t stand mushy-stuff, but he refuses to see you in sadness or in pain. A tad bit of jealousy aside, Hades knows this will make you fall further in love with him. As if you weren’t already head-over-heels for the smug bastard before…

“C’mon, babe. No need to thank me. Go have fun or whatever; just don’t tell Zeus. Guy’s a killjoy!”

/// ✨ ///

ll CAPTAIN HOOK ll

Not going to lie, if you tell him about the situation and start crying, he would join in with you. He may be a pirate but he’s not completely heartless.

While you grieve, Hook would be there for you every step of the way. And if he’s there for you, so is the rest of the crew. You’d be pampered and spoiled, anything to show he’s here to help whenever you ask for it.

He’d probably be the type to try and get your mind off of it. Looking out at sunsets, going through collected treasure, sharing stories (especially ones that he knows you would laugh at), that sort of thing. 

Even if he’s in front of his crew, Hook will give you the best comforting hugs. If you’re feeling sad, just resting your head on his shoulder with his soft, fluffy hair would be enough to soothe you.

When you two are alone, he’ll quietly sing gentle songs to you, far different from the usual sea shanty he’d parade about. If you begin to cry, he’ll wipe away the tears falling down your face (of course making sure his hook doesn’t cut you) and urge you closer to him.

Definitely the sweetest out of all the villains.

“Look up at the stars, love. See how many there are? Know that, one of them, is your loved one. They’ll always be there to guide you on the darkest nights, even if you are alone.”

/// ✨ ///

ll URSULA ll

As you go through the stages of grief, like with all of the villains listed here, Ursula would do her best to stay by your side and help when need be.

She’d be very touchy with you, offering hugs, kisses, hand-holding, all the works. She knows all too well the feeling of being alone in the world, and Ursula is determined to make sure you don’t feel like you’re going through all of this alone.

I hope you’re okay with her embraces being a bit “slimy” feeling; though, if you’re dating her, I’d say you’d be used to it by now.

Thanks to her deal-making skills, she always knows just what to say in this situation. Except, while she was often dishonest with the deals she made, she’s 100% genuine here. 

All-in-all, definitely second-best when it comes to being the sweetest to you in this time of your life.

Not related to Ursula herself, but Flotsam and Jetsam would be all-over you. You know how dogs can sometimes tell when their owner is feeling sad, and they comfort you by just laying their head on you? That’s them. Despite Ursula sometimes being overwhelmed by the two’s shenanigans, deep down, she’s thankful that they help cheer you up.

“Oh, angelfish, there, there. You were good to them, and I’m sure that they’ll always watch over you from now on. Just like me.”

/// ✨ ///

Thanks for reading! 💛

[tarjapearce]

Could you elaborate more about the fight Miguel had with your family that was mentioned in the soccer family proposal imagine?

Ayyy! It's the perfect chance to get the angst out of me jsksj. And of course, no relationship is perfect 💔.

What caused the fight Pt3

Gabriel's eyes settled on the both as you entered Miguel's apartment. Solemnity and listless faces dragged inside.

Gabriel was as perspicacious as his elder brother. A habit rubbed on him through the years of sharing the apartment and drunk in mezcal and tequila talks.

You were teary eyed, unable to look him for more than a couple of seconds before acknowledge him with a lip tight smile and follow Miguel to his room like a scolded puppy. The room felt smaller, crumpling around you, almost suffocating. A couple of your belongings scattered around the place.

So far the only indicators that a woman occupied a spot in his life. Silence felt so deafening it crawled and bit on your tremorous skin. Dread had made itself comfortable in your guts along anxiety ever since you left your old house. Cause you'd certainly wouldn't able to call it home.

And after all these years the little to no improvement had only made you oath to yourself that you'd stay as far as possible from them.

You'd notice the white of his knuckles gripping so tightly at the wheel, that when you tried to get a hold of his hand, his hand recoiled from yours. An appalling contrast from hours ago where he'd held you and gave gentle touches to ease and relief your nerves.

You had warned him, and still the both got burned. Him specially. It felt like the person you had as a mother figure was doing it on purpose to upset you and him.

It couldn't be that bad between the both, right? If he was honest, at first he thought that nothing but a small fight had ensued and that you were a little immature about it. But as your relationship kept growing you'd tell him just the highlights of your mother's behavior.

Something that he actually related way too well. He knew that speaking of your family was still a sore point, something you were treating with therapy.

"What's wrong, Miguel?"

"Nada." (Nothing)

"Mentiroso. ¿Qué te pasa?" (Liar, what's wrong?

Silence. You were done with it.

"You haven't spoke much ever since we got back from my old house. You're not... even looking at me!"

"Your family thinks I'm a freak."

You frowned and shook your head.

"And I apologize for that. I warned you about them-"

"Thanks for the fucking late warning"

His massive back heaved with subtle anger as it turned to you. His hands in his waist.

"Miguel..." Your eyes went wide at his words, head buzzed with his hurtful words.

"I bet you didn't even tell them about me."

His accusing tone was certainly tugging too hard at your heart seams. "I barely keep communication with them, Miguel. You out of everyone knows it!"

"Are you ashamed of me?" His self doubt threw daggers at your heart with each syllable that formed the question.

"W-What?"

"¿Qué no oyes? Te avergüenzas de mí o qué?! (Didn't you hear, are you ashamed of me or what?!)

"Le bajas a tu tono que no eres mi papá. No le permití jamás levantarme la voz para que tú lo hagas ahora." (Chill your tone down, you're not my father. I never allowed him to do so for you to come at me like that now.)

"And now you're scared of me"

"Listen to yourself, Miguel! Pull your head out of your ass for a second and listen to how you're talking to me! Haven't I been there for you and with you since last year?"

Gabriel gave a silent whistle as your fight grew loud enough for him to hear everything outside Miguel's bedroom door. He retreated to his room out of politeness.

"Yeah, we've been-"

"Then why you act like I'm being a burden to you all out the sudden? Why are you acting like I'm the one that hurt you?! You know that I'd never do that!. I'm not my family, Miguel."

Your voice cracked.

He shook his head. He had seen the way everyone stared at him when he tried to open the beer with his teeth. Fearful, disgusted.

The exact way he was looking at you.

To say it hurt was an understatement. He was deliberately prying open your chest and ripping your heart out while showing off and marveling at the process of such act.

"You... You don't wanna be with me anymore?"

The question sent a painful jab to his chest, but his wounded ego had taken all the controls on his rational side.

"Maybe it's time for you to get someone that's fucking normal. I'm clearly not. So why staying?"

A hiccup.

"Because I love you, you fucking idiot!"

A sob, and his heart sunk deeper.

Apologize. Now.

His mind chanted but his pride joined in the maneuvering of his spilled and jagged emotions. Adding more dry bones to the fire.

"But clearly this... this isn't working out, isn't it?"

"Clearly."

Your head nodded as your arms braced your quivering form. A meek protection from his cutting words.

"Sorry to have wasted your time then." You spoke in between angry sobs as you removed the necklace he once gifted you and shoved it back to his hand.

His bottom lip pursed as he saw you picking up the little traces of you in a haste. He went for your shoulder gently.

"Mira, yo-" (Look, I-)

You recoiled away from him as silent tears kept rolling down your face. Some watered the carpet underneath your feet.

"You've said enough."

A way too polite 'Don't Touch Me"

You picked up your things in your arms, messily. The room was clutching at your throat, cutting bit by bit your breaths, but Miguel's indifference was the one that made your head spin from the sudden lack of air. He was killing you with his suffocating coldness.

You hadn't mind the little brostbites he'd gave you, but this one had been too bad for you to keep holding it up. The burn had been too much. Too fast and too deep for you to properly process. All you knew is that you needed to get out.

Now.

Bundling up the things in the cardigan, you went out his bedroom's door.

Stop

His steps followed you, but this time he was the one unable to catch up. You were already closing the main door with a quiet close.

His hands trembled as they found their way on each side of his hips. Gripping and provoking enough pressure to at least feel a fraction of the pain he just put you through.

The necklace in his hand still warm. His own heat dulling yours. Just like your smile. Just like you. Just like every damn thing that made him feel good and happy.

Self sabotage was his best trait. Something he clearly forgot to warn you. But it was late.

The texture of the metal chain crunched underneath his fist.

Too late.

[lowkeyrobin]

Helloo, I was wondering if you could do MCYT with selective mutism? (ADHD reader heher) it mostly when happens when reader is overstimulated (Ie, a live concert or sm) and sometimes when readers battery is fucking drained completely they just fall asleep on MCYTs shoulder or sm? Thanks!!

oooo yes I relate to this sm ejmekekend ; thank you for requesting!

MCYT ; selective mutism

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, & quackity

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you guys go to a blink-182 concert

it was so fun yet so loud and crowded

by the time you got to the car, you'd decided, since being so overstimulated, to just shut down talking for a while

he's completely used to you going selectively mute, and knows a little sign language for you and has a notepad and pen in his center console for you

he still upholds conversation on the way home, but lets you stay quiet

you eventually fall asleep and he carries you inside bridal style lmfao

posts a pic of you on snap with the caption "their social battery died. L"

RANBOO

you went to a concert

you were in the pit so you were literally shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of strangers

very overstimulating

once you leave you're clung onto him

you're clearly very tired and the second he grabbed your hand to work your way through the crowd, dead silence

once you got into the car, safe and secure from people, you just kinda sat there in silence

ran instantly knew your social battery was dead because it was pretty common after concerts and live events

he's able to understand sign just for you

they're probably able to carry you inside after you fell asleep considering they're easily able to carry other friends

if you need any fidget toys or anything to help you decompress, they have them dw

they're so understanding and respectful about it 🫶💔

FREDDIE BADLINU

you just had a long ass day

social battery was at a zero and you went mute hours ago

you come home, lay down, and just won't talk

he gets the memo, dw

he's open to listening if you wanna talk or even type it out, but he rants about his day because it makes you feel a little better about yourself

runs you a nice, relaxing, warm bath and allows you to decompress and relax for a while

and after that you basically fall asleep on hjm

he just peacefully holds you and hopes you're feeling a little bit better now

he'll do anything just to not make you feel a negative emotion

especially since you get overstimulated and go selectively mute because you feel like you'll puke or the words won't come out right

he doesn't know what it's like but considering he's seen it a lot from you, he sympathizes a lot and allows you to convey what you want, how you want because obviously, your brain works much different than his and he gets that

NIKI NIHACHU

you were quickly overstimulated by the loud music in a club that you went to with her

you went out for a friend's birthday and quickly retreated outside

the party scene is definitely not for you

she notices you're missing and quickly finds you, and understands that you're overstimulated and mute for the moment

she had a tangle fidget (like the ones that twist forever and ever) laying in her pocket and gave it to you in hopes itd help you decompress

she immediately takes you home after telling the friend to enjoy their night and informing them you needed to go home

almost instantly you passed out once you hit the bed LMFAO

she'll sit there and rub your temples and stroke your hair until you're definitely asleep

she 100% gets it, and will always comfort you and make sure you're okay

ALEX QUACKITY

the streamer awards were obviously very overstimulating

you were quiet most the night, from the recording and everyone looking at you guys to the anxiety and anticipation? nah bruh

once you got back to the car with Alex, Cellbit, Niki, Tina, and Foolish, you instantly just sat back and a weight was just lifted from your shoulders

you didn't have to talk to anyone or let anyone take pictures of you or record you anymore and it felt good

although he noticed, and confirmed you were just drained and tired and wanted alone time

he gave you his phone to play games on (like you're a little toddler or something) (your phone died an hour ago) and left you to do your thing while Foolish drove you guys home

halfway there you gave his phone back and fell asleep on him

"guys, quiet down a bit, they fell asleep"

takes a picture on snap and captions it "bro you didn't even win anything. What're you tired for???" as a joke

[scozthewoz]

mercs as cat breeds + kitty merc headcanons

inspired by/in collaboration with @joonliebe (i changed a few of them sorry pookie 💔)

kitty headcanons are from my cat fortress AU where all the mercs are cats that are foster fails because nobody wants those motherfuckers and now miss pauling is stuck with them all

spy ▪︎ persian - fancy and high maintenance. the signature bond villain cat

likes to be alone. needs to be taken to the groomer once a week or he gets pissed off and starts tearing up the couch. he has a very strict schedule and if his terms are not followed he throws a tantrum. he also sneaks out of the house and dissapears frequently. a dick to the rest of the cats, except scout for some reason.

heavy ▪︎ siberian - big boys with big coats, comes from siberia

the most well behaved cat there. scarred up and scary looking from his time in the pound, but he's suprisingly very quiet and peaceful. naturally chunky and big boned. miss pauling's favorite. he's a bonded pair with medic, they can normally be found grooming each other. he tends to wrangle scout when he's being too much, he doesn't like to see miss pauling stressed.

pyro ▪︎ sphynx - just a weird lookin thing. also an affectionate and energetic breed that likes to wreak havoc

peculiar little intersex kitty covered in burns, owners died in a house fire (that she may or may not have caused). both eyes are gone, but she navigates just fine. knows how to turn the stove on and has set multiple small fires. miss pauling puts him in cute little sweaters since he doesn't have any fur to keep him warm.

sniper ▪︎ savannah - hybrid of a house cat and a wild serval

very solitary, like spy, but not hostile to the others. owners were an old couple that died and it shook up the already shy cat. miss pauling doesn't need to feed him like the others since he sneaks out and hunts his own meals. almost completely silent unless he's sitting at the window and chirping at birds. evident dislike for spy. quiet and low maintenence so not a huge headache, but he tracks mud in the house. he's very skittish too, runs off or hides whenever there's company.

medic ▪︎ turkish angora - graceful. very majestic. cunty, even

on paper, he seems like a very good cat! he's an ex-service animal that still carries out some service tasks, like deep pressure therapy when miss pauling is getting anxious or retrieving stuff. only problem is that he loves bringing dead things inside, and he goes out of his way to rip it to shreds and get blood and guts ALL over the house. he also has a temper issue, and he needs little kitty glasses because his eyesight is shit.

engineer ▪︎ munchkin - haha short legs!! oh yeah, and they're pretty smart

used to be a workshop cat around for pest control, lost a leg in an accident. workshop guys gave him a kitty sized hardhat he gets very upset without. he's got a hard time jumping up on stuff since he not only has short legs, but he's got a prosthetic one too, so miss pauling made him a few kitty staircases up to his favorite spots. he likes stealing tools from neighbors and and scrap metal from outside and stashes them under the couch.

demoman ▪︎ scottish fold - scottish, prone to eye problems

missing an eye and has some singed fur from teens with fireworks. little kitty eyepatch. he frequently gets into the bailey's irish cream miss pauling keeps on top of the fridge and has to be brought to the vet for liver issues at least once a month.

soldier ▪︎ ragdoll - developed in america !!🇺🇸 tend to rough house when playing and are very vocal

used to belong to a war veteran, then became a stray after he died. clipped ear. his body's kept shaved because of scarring and matting issues, so he's got furry boots and a puffball tail, but the fur on his noggin covers his eyes. he frequently bothers the others. a big sweetheart for miss pauling, but agressive with anyone else. likes fetch. dog in a cat body.

scout ▪︎ siamese - the extroverts of the cat world, very energetic and chatty, also very clever.

his ma and brothers are all siamese, but he's got an oddly fluffy tail like a persian.. he's a big fan of miss pauling, never leaves her alone. gets pissy and scratches the curtains or breaks a glass when she's giving one of the other cats too much attention. wayyy too clingly and always causing some sort of trouble or getting into places he shouldn't. he also meows CONSTANTLY.

[artdcnaldson]

hnnnnghnbhbbn repressed art is so yummy you always match my freak im tweaking rn!!!

also the little nods to patrick adding to his repressed-ness!!!!!! its so scrumptious

i dont know where you wanna take this but i have soooo many ideas i need him so bad

i just keep thinking about her finding loopholes to convince art to give in…

rn now in my mind i have smth smth about her being just so horny and wanting to play, so maybe going to wherever he is and telling him she needs a toy… like asking him for his hand and using it to touch herself and his hand just gets soooo soaked and wet and he really doesn’t wanna move it cause thats immoral, hes just helping out, but maybe hell crook his fingers inside and just watch how she goes crazyyyyyy… maybe he’ll make her squirt… yeah…

ily btw you get me!!!

- 🐚

I’m sorry this took so long that’s my bad baby </3 I read this came passed out died was brought back to life etc. please forgive me 💔

But hngnngngng I imagine he’s so willing and needy after you let him rut against ur thighs and get off :(( all clingy bc he’s like wait maybe she’s the one 🥺

Which is…… but anyways!!

But yeah god he’s just. A living breathing wet dream. He comes in from the courts all sweaty and flushed and smiley, chugging Gatorade or water or whatever. And it just fucking sets you off. You’ve spent weeks soaked and needy with no release outside of your hand. You just need something.

So you ask where Pat is (heading to the country club to swim) and how long he’s going to be gone (three hours max, but no less than one). So you drag him into your room, lock the door.

“Can I use your fingers, baby? You don’t have to move them, just let me play with them. They’re so pretty, I want to feel them. Please?”

And he blushes, looks nervous, but notes. “O-okay. Just tell me what to do.”

He’s so willing, so sweet. He swallows hard when you guide his hand between his thighs, when he feels how warm and wet you are. The first pussy he’s ever touched 🥺 and he gets hard so fast.

But he has to remind himself it’s not for him! He’s trying to help! Like you help. And it’s not wrong as long as he’s not really moving his hand, just like it’s okay if he humps you because it’s just him moving not you <3 so he ignores how hard he is, just lets you guide his hand because he’s just your sweet little toy <3

He thinks it’s interesting, the way you fold down some of his fingers, posing him like a doll. He lets out a choked sort of whine as you press his fingertips to your entrance. You’re so warm and wet inside, tight around his fingers, squeezing him.

He’s flushed the prettiest pink, moaning pathetically as you use his fingers. And his brain is so fuzzy, filled only with the feeling of you hot around his fingers, dripping wet and sticky down his palm.

“Can you—“ you gesture with the hand that’s not circling your clit, curving your fingers.

He shouldn’t. But he’s already got his fingers in your pussy and he’s probably already going to hell anyway. He crooks his fingers so they press against the front wall. Your eyes roll back, you make the prettiest, most desperate sound.

He smiles so proudly as you start grinding down against his fingers, all desperate and needy. Feels your cunt clamping down around him, feels the rush of wetness and release as you finish.

And you look so pretty, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, mouth ajar as soft moans spill out. You pull his fingers out of your sensitive cunt and Art actually fucking whines at the sight of his fingers glistening and sticky with your juices.

“You can taste,” you encourage with a coy smile. “You’ll like it, I think.”

He moans when he pushes those fingers between his lips, tasting the tang of your arousal. It’s not enough— he laves his tongue over his fingertips and knuckles, trying to swallow down every hint of you.

And you’re laid out before him, legs spread, glistening pussy just fucking teasing him. He wants to just taste you— to bury his face between your thighs, lap at your drenched folds, make you cum again. All him this time, none of your guidance.

But he can’t, the poor thing.

[littlespoonevan]

left half my heart in our living room

that episode did severe emotional damage to my psyche and then i turned on grow by sigrid and proceeded to make it worse :) i don’t know what this is i just needed to write some words because buck and eddie said So Many words in this ep and i felt all of them 💔

spoilers for 6x15

-

I feel like she sees me.

The sentence sticks in Eddie’s head. Niggling at the base of his skull like an itch that won’t go away.

“You’re quiet,” Buck says when they’re on the way home from the cemetery and it’s around that moment that Eddie realises he hasn’t said anything since they got in the jeep. Too consumed by their conversation from before.

I feel like she sees me.

He looks over at Buck now, one hand on the steering wheel, one resting on his lap, and he looks…comfortable, on first glance. But then Eddie notes the tense set of his shoulders and the way he seems to be staring at the road a little too hard, like he’s purposefully trying not to look in Eddie’s direction.

For one bitter moment, Eddie wonders if Natalia would notice those things but he shakes the thought away. He shouldn’t put this on her. She only knows what Buck’s told her.

“Do you really believe that?” he asks finally, voice quiet and a little bit too tentative. “That she sees you better than-“ me “-than any of us?”

Buck’s mouth parts and it’s clear he hadn’t expected the question. Eddie watches him while he works himself up to an answer – the way he shifts in his seat, the way his eyes dart to the rearview mirror instead of Eddie himself, the careful intake of breath before he finally decides to speak.

“I mean, it’s different,” is what Buck settles on. “Her perception of death and how it affects you, it’s-“

“Because none of us have ever had any experience with death,” Eddie can’t help cutting in.

“Eddie,” Buck sighs and it sounds like please.

“Chimney’s heart stopped last year,” Eddie says. “And when I got-“

“She doesn’t look at me like I’m a ghost, alright?” Buck says, sharp and slicing through Eddie’s intended comment about his own brush with death.

The words make him stop short. He clenches and unclenches his fists in his lap as he digests them. "What d’you mean?”

Buck sighs again and it seems more upset than before. “Maddie, Bobby, you- you all look at me like…like you’re not even sure I’m really here. Like I’m gonna disappear at any minute. You think I don’t see it but I do.”

“Because you died, Buck,” Eddie exclaims, frustrated and weary and more vulnerable than he’d planned on letting himself be. “You died. And for three minutes and seventeen seconds I thought I was going to have to live in this world without you and I didn’t want to.”

That makes Buck clap his mouth shut and he doesn’t say anything else but Eddie can see the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. The car stops abruptly then and he takes stock of his surroundings for the first time since they got in the jeep. They’re outside his house now.

He takes a measured breath and unclips his seatbelt, shooting a wary look in Buck’s direction. His hands are still gripping the steering wheel and he’s staring straight out the windscreen but he cut off the engine, at least.

“Come inside,” Eddie requests softly, climbing out of the jeep and not waiting to see if Buck follows.

He lets himself into the house and hears the slam of Buck’s car door as he’s dropping his keys on the side table. He hesitates when he gets to the living room, unsure whether he should keep travelling to the kitchen or just drop down on the couch and bury his head in his hands.

Buck comes inside before he can decide, the click of the door soft as he closes it behind himself.

“You looked at me like that too,” Eddie says without turning around. It’s easier saying it without Buck looking at him, even though he can feel Buck’s stare like a brand on his back. “After the well. And- and the shooting. I remember.”

“I’m used to losing people,” Buck says after a beat. “The fact that I got to keep you felt like a trick somehow. Like if I looked away for too long you’d be gone again.”

Eddie huffs a humourless laugh, feeling tears sting behind his eyes. He finally turns, finding Buck standing in the entryway. He gives Eddie a helpless shrug when their eyes meet.

“And I’m not allowed to feel like that?”

“You are,” Buck insists, body shifting like he’s about to charge forward but in the end he only takes one step. “I just don’t know what to do with it.”

“Why not?” Eddie asks and they’re teetering dangerously close to a conversation they’ve never let themselves have before but he doesn’t know how to stop pushing either.

Buck answers anyway.

“Because if I think about how much you see me – how much I let you see without you even asking – I feel terrified. Because I’ve spent years trying to get you to let me all the way in but it’s really fucking scary to imagine me doing the same thing. To believe that you’d even want that.”

Eddie works his jaw, swallowing against the heaving ache in his chest. He gets it, is the thing. No matter how much they’ve taken care of each other, no matter how much they’ve acted as one another’s soft place to land, there’s still a voice in the back of his head that says, you’re being a burden. Stop it.

“I don’t care if you want to start dating again-“ Lie. That’s a lie. “-but don’t- don’t say-“

As if sensing he can’t actually get the words out, Buck immediately starts shaking his head. “I won’t,” he says. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”

Eddie nods, clears his throat, and glances between the couch and the dining room. He doesn’t know what to do now, doesn’t know how they go back to having a casual beer, but before he can come up with something to say to break the tension Buck is stepping forward, crowding into his space and folding him into a hug.

I don’t remember the last time we did this, Eddie thinks even as his muscle memory reacts. His arms come up around Buck, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other wraps around his waist. Buck’s face burrows into his shoulder and Eddie only hesitates for half a second before he presses his temple against the exposed line of Buck’s neck and breathes him in.

“I’m not gonna disappear,” Buck whispers and, ridiculously, it makes fresh tears spring behind Eddie’s eyelids.

“Me either,” he replies and Buck’s arms tighten around him in response.

And he thinks they’re at an impasse now, a sort of crossroads they can’t turn back from but aren’t able to move forward from yet either.

If this is where they have to stay for now, he thinks he might be okay with that.

[forwhump]

a/n; some belated robin backstory 🥲 for doughnut, who I promised this to months ago & then FORGOT IM SO SORRY IM JUST AN AIRHEAD I WASNT INTENTIONALLY BEING A DOUCHE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING (I remembered out of nowhere within like ten minutes of finding out liam died so that’s why it took even longer)(I loved 1d 💔)(& bleach finally animated my WORST CHARACTER DEATH so I’ve had a really hard week)(if I was still 13 I’d be institutionalized)

word count: 4k (I only feel like I need to add a word count when these are especially long so idk why everything I’ve posted recently has been especially long that’s my bad 😔)

tw/cw: kidnapping, captivity, implied rape/noncon, drug use, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, medical torture, lobotomies, mentions of the military, passing threats of violence against pregnant women, implied human experiments

When Robin’s a kid, just a couple weeks after his dad dies, his mom brings home a new baby. A girl.

She’s really little but she shrieks at a pitch so loud and so shrill that sometimes it gives him headaches. Other times, it puts him in such a bad mood he has to rip all the sheets off his bed or all the posters down from his walls. She doesn’t really do anything but scream or sleep and still, his mother dotes on her, treats her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

Robin doesn’t get it. He doesn’t even really like her. He’d wanted a brother, anyway.

The baby’s first word is mama, which Robin doesn’t think is all that impressive. Her second word, however, is Rob, and he doesn’t know until he gets home from school and she squeals so loudly it makes his ears ring, clapping her little hands together.

“Rob!” She squeals. “Rob!”

“She’s been waiting all day for you,” his mother says with a smile.

He drops his backpack so he can pick her up, and she squeals again as she clings to him. “Rob!”

He doesn’t even try not to cry because he doesn’t realize he’s started crying until his mother wipes away his tears. After, of course, she takes a picture that she later has framed. A picture that he takes down and hides.

When Robin’s old enough, care of the farm falls pretty solely on his shoulders. He’d been expecting it — man of the house, all that. His sister’s very much a girl, all blonde and giggly, pink and frills, and their mother gets her into pageants when she’s still really small and pageantry comes with a pretty intense base level of maintenance. When mom washes her hair, it’s a whole day event. It’s kind of absurd.

When she first starts trying to follow him out onto the farm, he thinks it’s just to bother him. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s chosen to do something for the sake of being annoying. She asks, then she begs, then she just puts on her boots and tries to follow. When he ends up locking her in the basement to keep her inside, she tries tantrums, then she stomps to their mother and pouts.

“Take your sister with you,” she chastises.

Robin groans loudly. “She’s just gonna get in the way!”

She stomps a small foot and cries, “I can help!”

“No, you can’t!” Robin tells her. “You’re just a baby! And you’re scared of the horses!”

“You can’t tell me what I can’t do!” She shrieks. “I can help!”

“You can’t help!”

“Stop screaming,” their mother says, “both of you.”

“I can help, mama,” she whines.

“She’ll break a nail and throw a fit,” Robin groans.

“I don’t care!”

“You’d better care,” Mom says. “Be careful.”

She brightens, immediately done crying. “So I can go?”

“No,” Robin says, and her face falls again.

“I can help,” she whines. “Let me show you!”

“Let her show you,” Mom says.

Robin groans the whole way out. She skips beside him.

He eats his words, in the end. Even if it’s just to prove Robin wrong, she ends up being a big help. Not with the horses, not at all, but with almost everything else.

Turns out it’s because her motives aren’t to prove Robin wrong at all — she just wanted to get out to the cows. As soon as she’s finished, once Robin’s back is turned, he’s saying something like, “I can’t believe you weren’t totally useless,” and he looks back around and she’s gone, out to pasture. He finds her frolicking with the cows, laughing delightedly.

It’s like that for a few months. She follows him out, helps with actual farm work as quickly as she can, then disappears out to pasture to hang out with the cows. For the rest of their lives there together, in their childhood home, their jobs change; she tends to her cows, and Robin does everything else. It isn’t exactly fair, but Robin had grown up fully expecting to have to do all of it himself.

They settle into their routine, and they stick to it for years.

As soon as Robin’s eighteen, he enlists. He doesn’t hesitate. He’d always known he was going to.

His mom knows. She’s proud of him. He doesn’t tell his sister, because she won’t be.

When she finds out, she throws every plate in the house at him. Breaks every one.

The moon hangs low above the farm, casting everything in watery silver light. She sits on the fence in her boots and a pageant dress, this one so white and sparkly it kind of glows in the moonlight and it makes her look, frankly, like a ghost. She’d taken the pins out of her hair and it looks spectral, a cloud around her.

They’ve been passing a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — she’d won a world title tonight, something that warranted a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — and her ghost is really starting to crack him up.

“You’re being a dick,” she says, but she’s giggling helplessly. “I look so beautiful.”

“I can’t even look at you,” Robin says, and he isn’t lying, turned away as he laughs. “It’s making me mourn.”

She laughs so loudly she almost falls backwards off the fence, and that sets Robin off again.

He leaves next week. Six days exactly, the day after his very last high school exam. He hasn’t told her yet, and he doesn’t want to, especially not now, but he’s running out of time. He can’t leave without saying something, anything, but he’s tempted.

It’s almost like she’s read his mind. “Can I talk to you about something?” She asks carefully, and something in her tone makes Robin’s shoulders tense.

“If you’re pregnant you’re getting thrown down the stairs, girl,” he says. She snorts. “Mom’s gonna be pissed.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she says.

“I’m leaving on Friday,” Robin responds. He doesn’t mean to.

Uncomfortably quick, her face goes blank. “What?”

“Fuck,” Robin says. “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”

“What do you mean, you leave next week?” She asks slowly.

Robin looks away, out at her cows. “I fly out,” he says, “after exams.”

“Fly where?” She asks, now completely flat.

He doesn’t look at her, but he tries to smile. “My first tour.”

She doesn’t say anything for such a long time that he finally turns again, he looks at her.

She swings, and her fist gets him hard between the eyes. She doesn’t say another word to him as she leaves, and she doesn’t say goodbye to him before he goes. After that, he didn’t really expect her to.

War is hell.

Men are monsters.

The first time Robin gets to come home, it’s so good to be home. It’s the most unbelievably light thing he’s ever experienced, like taking his first, clean breath. He almost starts to understand the military appeal; the comedown after is the high.

When he gets home, his sister is trying not to be weird around him but she is, very blatantly. He thinks it’s because of how they left things; he’s wrong.

“Can we talk?” She asks, and there’s something so severe in her face that he thinks she’s probably cutting contact with him. It’s kind of a low blow. It stings.

He sits across from her, anyway. Waits.

For a long time, she doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t look at him. She doesn’t lift her head.

“Okay, what’s going on?” He asks finally. “Are you okay?”

She exhales loudly, but her voice is so small he can barely hear her when she says, “yes.”

“Then what’s up?” He probes. “What’s going on? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“No,” she says into her hands, “I’m not always pregnant,” and takes another deep breath. Robin waits. He gives her the time she needs, watches the way her shoulders move as she takes deep breaths, watches the way her hands tremble, hiding her face. Robin keeps his voice level and his hands steady and he waits, but he’s waiting for the worst. He isn’t sure exactly what he’s expecting, but he’s expecting it to be bad. He isn’t expecting, “I’m trans, Rob.”

She still doesn’t look at him. She still doesn’t lift her head. Robin says, “what?”

“I’m trans,” she tells her hands.

“Trans what?” Robin asks, and she does lift her head, then.

“What?” She says, like she can’t tell if he’s serious. “Gender?”

“What?” Robin repeats.

“Oh my god,” she says. “I’m a boy, Robin.”

“What?” He says, because he still doesn’t get it. Then, “oh.”

“Yeah,” she says, and — well, he says, actually. He says it, and he drops his head again, covering his face with his hands and the sheet of his hair. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“What?” Robin repeats. He’s gotten himself stuck in a weird loop. He’s thinking faster and a lot more than he usually does. “What’s — why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know,” she says. He says. He’ll get better at that. He’s an adaptable guy.

“Gonna have to stop overthinking,” Robin tells him. “Guys don’t do that.”

His back stiffens. He doesn’t lift his head. “What?”

“It’s why we sleep better,” he explains.

Reluctantly, he lifts his head. He’s always had a deceptively sweet face, kind of doe eyed, but when he looks at Robin he looks so scared, genuinely scared, that it kind of hurts Robin’s feelings. “Rob,” he croaks.

“Can’t doubt yourself like that,” Robin tells him, trying to shrug off the tension, and when he still can’t quite meet his eye Robin stretches a foot out across the carpet to kick him in the ankle. “Guys don’t do that.”

He barely looks at him from beneath his eyelashes, but he looks at him, and that’s progress. “This isn’t a joke,” he says.

“I know,” Robin agrees.

“I’m serious,” he says. “I’m seriously coming out to you right now.”

“I know,” Robin agrees again.

She covers her face again, and — he covers his face again, and it isn’t until Robin really looks that he realizes his shoulders are shaking. That he realizes — “do you have a…name? A new one?”

He hesitates for a long time before finally pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. With a sniffle, he says, “Wren, I think.”

“Wren,” Robin considers. He looks across their mother’s favourite gaudy rug at Wren, tries it on for size. “It suits you,” he decides, and Wren chokes out a sound that’s obviously a sob but that he had tried hard enough to hide that Robin lets it go. “All the names in the world, though,” he says. “You still picked a bird.”

He sniffles again. “We still had to match.”

Robin feels that really low in his chest, a lot warmer than he would’ve expected. “I’ve always wanted a brother,” he says.

When he finally comes home for good, none of the colours are as bright as he remembers them being.

Wren had moved out while he’d been away, and the house is a lot bigger than he remembers it being. It’s too quiet. He can hear too much when it’s quiet.

Wren comes to stay for a few nights, to welcome Robin home, and he brings his girlfriend with him, introduces her. Julie. She’d probably be very beautiful if Robin’s type were outrageously scary people.

All tattoos, everywhere, and piercings studded with diamonds that catch the light whenever she moves. Her hair is like ink and all her tattoos are thick, black, and she looks a lot like Wren’s opposite in a way that’s endearing for a long time. He likes Julie in the beginning; she’s cordial to him.

She’s less cordial over time, slowly but surely. Then comes a time she’s rude, that she’ll snatch Wren’s phone out of his hands to tell Robin to get fucked on the other end. Once, Wren shows up in the middle of the night to post his bail and take him home. He spends that night, then the next few on their couch, and Julie doesn’t say a word to him once. Doesn’t even look at him.

It comes to a head at his mom’s house. He’s there because Wren is supposed to be there, but he never even gets to see him; he only sees his bitch girlfriend, sneering down the doorstep at him.

“I don’t think you like me very much,” he accuses.

“I don’t,” she says.

“Oh.” He already lnew she didn’t, so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. That she’s so fuckin’ blunt about it, maybe. “Fuck you, too.”

“You’re a loser,” she tells him, and folds her arms. Robin’s quite a bit bigger than she is, but it doesn’t feel like it then. She’s an imposing little thing. “What’s there to like?”

“Okay,” he says tightly, “you suck, and —“

“You’re a cancer,” she says, “and I want you to leave Wren alone.”

That one hits Robin like a punch in the chest. He almost takes a step back, then pivots, because who the fuck does she think she is? Why should Robin cower? “Fuck you,” he says again. She just raises her eyebrows, smirks, and it’s so smug that it actually makes Robin hot all over. “Fuck you. He’s my brother.”

“Yeah?” She asks, and he doesn’t like her fuckin’ tone. “Because, from where I’m standing, it really seems like that didn’t matter to you all that much until Wren started making a lot of money.”

It makes all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “You have no idea —“

“Did he tell you we had to move?” She asks.

He’s still fuming and it crackles in his ears. “What?”

“Do you remember his apartment?” Julie says. “How excited he was? How much he loved it? But we had to move,” she tells him, “because we couldn’t keep up with it anymore, because such a substantial chunk of your brother’s income goes to funding his junkie brother’s crack habit.”

He tenses his jaw so tightly his teeth click. “You’re a bitch.”

“I’m not kidding,” she says, “and I’m telling you as gently as I think you deserve. You’re ruining his life. Leave him alone.”

Robin tries.

Really, he tries. He does what’s best for everyone and clears out his mother’s purse before making a home for himself in the gutter. He sleeps in the street and sits in the sun during the day, usually high. High if he can help it, anyway.

He sustains it for as long as it takes Wren to find him. He isn’t quite sure how long that is. He thinks he might have lost a lot of time.

Wren looks different. This Wren still has his Wren’s hair, his Wren’s abnormally large eyes. He’s still a pretty boy, but he’s a pretty boy, right? His jaw is a bit more defined. He’s got more angles, sharper angles, less softness and curve. He wouldn’t look out of place in an eighties hair band. How long has Robin been gone? How long has he been sleeping?

“You look good,” he says.

“You look like shit,” Wren tells him blandly.

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, scratching his neck. He accidentally opens a sore he didn’t know was there and scratches a little harder. “Where’s Julie?”

“Left me,” Wren answers.

“Oh,” Robin says, and stops scratching. “Why?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Why do you think?”

He flinches. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Well, y’know,” he says, scratching his forearm, “there’s other fish in the sea.”

Wren’s face falls. Sighing, he looks away, half hidden by his hair. Robin has half a mind to wonder if that’s why he hasn’t cut it. “I can’t do this shit with you anymore,” he says.

“What shit?” Robin says.

“All of this,” he says, but he turns back to reach out towards Robin and forcefully pry his hands away from the sides of his face. “And stop fuckin’ pickin’ your face.”

Contrarily, Robin’s skin doesn’t stop itching so he doesn’t stop scratching.

Wren doesn’t stop taking care of him, either.

For a while, Robin has a really good thing going, honestly, and there’s something comforting about being at home again with his mom and his brother. He doesn’t notice, for a long time, how much it eats away at Wren, because it eats away at him so slowly. He gets quieter.

Five months after Wren decides he’s done taking care of him — and takes care of him, still — Robin clears all of the big bills out of his wallet before he wanders out onto the farm to grovel and ask to borrow a measly fifty bucks. He never quite makes it that far.

The cows are out, so it isn’t hard to track Wren down, but Robin never quite makes it over to him. He’s sitting in the grass, back against a fence post. Daisy has her head in his lap, and he’s got a hand between her ears, but it’s still. He’s staring off into nothing. It looks like he might be crying.

And that makes Robin so dreadfully uncomfortable he turns right back around and goes inside. Because that’s probably a little bit his fault, right?

He doesn’t leave then, but he notices it more. Wren stares off into space a lot. Cries when he doesn’t think anybody else is around. Never mentions to Robin all the money that vanished from his wallet.

Robin leaves a week later.

It takes Wren three months, this time, to track him down.

Robin’s been sleeping on the floor of an abandoned apartment building, and it’s kind of surreal, waking up to Wren, cross legged on the floor with him. It’s a relief to see him. “Can I b-borrow a c-couple bucks?”

The way Wren looks at him makes him miserable. He tells Wren it’s their mother, it’s the way mom looks at him, and it is, to a degree. His mother still looks at him like she’s proud of him, her son the soldier, her son the patriot, but the way Wren looks at him is worse. Wren’s disappointed in him, and that could almost make him throw up.

He’s trying to get Robin to come home, to get clean, and Robin’s trying to get some money out of him. He’s having a hard time focusing, he’s shivering, but not with cold, with a sort of fever that makes his skin crawl too tightly over his restless bones. When the door explodes open, Robin registers it a second after it’s already happened. The soldiers he doesn’t even see until they’ve already swarmed the room, covered every exit, pulled Robin to his knees by his arms and his hair. They knock his blanket loose, and he shivers until one of them grabs Wren by his braided hair, wrenches his head back, points his gun.

Not everything comes into focus, but it tries. This is really happening and this is really bad.

Their captain is a big guy that looks more like the Hollywood movie version of a soldier than a soldier. He has an arrogance to him that puts Robin on edge, that he’s only ever seen in very dangerous, very powerful men. The way he looks at Wren makes Robin sick.

When he knocks Wren unconscious, it’s with a wet cloth and a gloved hand over his mouth.

Robin begs. He hasn’t been above begging for a long time. The way the captain is looking at Wren — he’s seen what happens to people who get looked at like that.

And this is Robin’s fault.

This is all his fault.

It makes him think of Julie. He can’t remember the last time he saw her, or even the last time he really thought about her, but he thinks of her now. You’re ruining his life, she’d told him once.

She was right.

For a long time, he’d been ruining. Now, it’s in ruins at his feet. And it’s all Robin’s fault.

They try to make him watch, but he struggles and vomits himself into unconsciousness.

They take him to a weird, grey place tens of minutes below ground. They give him weird, grey clothes and they throw him into a weird, grey prison.

Wren isn’t there.

He meets Hal, and he meets June, and he begs them, too. They have to know something, anything. Maybe they heard one of the soldiers say something, even in passing.

They look at him like he’s crazy. They don’t even believe him.

Robin spends his first week in his weird, grey prison completely hysterical. Then a couple of men, dressed almost liked orderlies but masked, all in black, come to haul him away, kicking and screaming. They drag him through this weird, grey hellscape to a surgical room from a nightmare, entirely black. They strap him down to a black surgical table. The surgeons that hover around him wear black masks and caps and gloves.

One of them takes a long, black needle. He holds it up, into Robin’s field of vision, before he turns the point into the inner corner of his eye. “This will probably hurt,” he explains, “but you won’t think to complain.”

“What the fuck?” Robin shouts. He thrashes, but he’s restrained to that table so tightly he can’t turn his face away, not even an inch. “What the fuck! Get the fuck away from me!”

“This will make your development easier,” another says. He speaks with the slow, flat voice of an old movie mad scientist and Robin’s heart physically aches in his chest. Never, not once in his life, has he been so scared it’s made his heart ache. “It’s in your best interest.”

“Get the fuck away from me!” Robin screams.

But he’s still. He tries to thrash, to turn away, and he can’t. He can only watch that needle close in on his eye, and scream as it pierces it.

He screams until he can’t.

[cherryys]

why do you think yuuji isn't gonna make it? i have a lot of bets put on itafushi both dying or living (for Reasons i'm not gonna be annoying abt rn lol) so i like to hear why others believe otherwise

Oh god okay so

There are ALOT of death flags around yuuji, more than the people that actually died had lol but if i had to compose a list:

1. In Chapter 1, these are Yuuji's grandfather's dying words to him:

And i feel this statement of "when it's your time to go, make sure you're surrounded by others." Is going to play a big part in the ending, especially paired with the "save anyone you can, even if it's just one person" this translation doesn't say those exact words but the anime did so im gonna roll with it lol (if anyone knows what the og japanese version said please let me know!!!)

I think Yuuji is going to die by saving Megumi, surrounded by him (and others like Yuuta and Todo but im more focusing on Megumi because he is the start and the end of Yuuji's entire life purpose and ideals) and that would fulfill his grandfather's dying words of "save whoever you can, even if it's just one person. don't end up like me, [alone]. Die surrounded by loved ones" and i think that would truly be the best ending Yuuji would get after that, better than any hollow victory of killing sukuna but still outliving everyone else, alone. He had suffered enough in those few months, i think it would be cruel of Gege if he lets him outlive everyone else and still keep going with how much he's lost and witnessed.

This falls in line with the purpose he set for himself in Chapter 2:

He had already accepted that his life ends with Sukuna. That moment is when, for him, Itadori Yuuji ceased to exist and instead, Sukuna's Vessel. (Though the people around him try to convince him otherwise). Him doing those two things (Killing Sukuna and Saving People) as what his character's purpose in the story is, not living to see his 16th birthday (as despressing as that may be 💔)

2. In Chapter 203, Kenjaku says this:

This sort of ties into my earlier point of him and Sukuna's lifespans being interconnected thematically. Kenjaku here specifies Yuuji coexisting with Sukuna. As long as they are both alive, the cycle of curses (and suffering & pain) will never end. Even if Yuuji were to live on, he still has Sukuna's essence burned into him (whether that be because he'd been a vessel for so long or because of his lineage). He cannot get rid of the entirety of Sukuna, all his remains and all his ugliness, without getting rid of the one inside him first. That's why to completely get rid of Sukuna, he has to take himself out too.

Shoko even says this in Chapter 220:

By a narrative standpoint, he technically counts as an extra finger, still housing his Technique and his Evil Dredges, sort of speak. To completely defeat Sukuna, he has to go too.

3. A little fun fact about JJK, it was under threat of being cancelled all the way back since the Cursed Womb Arc. Because of that, Gege rushed to write that arc along with Chapter 9 as its subsequent "end" (though we know now Shonen Jump continued releasing it) and coupled with the fact that Gege said a while ago he already has the end of the story in mind, it's not a stretch to say that the end is going to parallel that Chapter somehow, with Yuuji sacrificing himself to save Megumi and them sharing a quiet moment (under the rain, or snow since its Dec 24 lol) where Megumi tells him again that he had never once regretted saving him, even after all the turmoil and pain it caused Megumi.

I think that would also be a nice send-off for Yuuji, the last face he sees is the one person he actually succeeded in saving and the one that saved him back, telling him that despite all the guilt he felt, all the pain he made himself responsible for (despite it not being his fault), he—who had a moral code so strict that he'd never save anyone that would kill someone in the future, yet saved him anyways, and stuck by his side after all that happened in Shibuya and told him to share the burden, the one person who never left him alone—never once regretted saving him, that the good Megumi knows is in Yuuji was worth it. And that despite the pain Megumi went through (and the pain Yuuji feels responsible for) he doesn't blame him nor regret that choice. And that he'd do it again even knowing everything.

I could go more into the other side of this argument of why Megumi being the one to die wouldn't make sense but i'd be rambling on for too long lmao i tend to go on restlessly 😞 im just really passionate about jjk and its themes

[winxanity-ii]

MEMORY CARD [1/?]

ship: artist!andy x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 4.7k (y'all know the routine, tried doing a regular one-shot but ended up worldbuilding 😩😔; part 2 will be up soon) a/n: was talking with my sis about westworld so here we are...(update: it's gonna be 4-5 parts in total cuz @k-nayee. bullied me 😭😔💔 parts: 2

★·.·´🇦‌🇱‌🇮‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The train rattled along the tracks, the gentle hum of the engine weaving with the rhythmic clatter of wheels against steel. You leaned your forehead against the cool glass window, watching as the endless plains rolled by in a blur of gold and green.

The faint smell of dust and engine oil filled the cabin, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from the dining car up ahead.

Each bump in the track sent a subtle jolt through the train, a reminder of the distant frontier you were heading toward.

Behind you, the low murmur of conversation drifted through the air. You weren't trying to eavesdrop, but the voices carried in the cramped space.

"Now, the first time, I played it white hat. My family was here. We went fishing, did the gold hunt in the mountains," one of the men said, his tone smug with nostalgia. There was a pause as he took a swig of something from his flask. "And last time? I came alone. Went straight evil. It was the best two weeks of my life."

His companion chuckled darkly. "Straight evil, huh? What'd you do?"

"Ah, you know," he said with a nonchalant shrug that you could practically hear in his voice. "Burned a few homesteads, robbed a bank or two… Got a nice haul from the bank, but the real fun was in the brothel. Picked a few cute ones—doe eyes, rosey cheeks, the whole works." His voice dipped into something sleazier. "Well, by the time I was done with the first one, let's just say, she wasn't thinking much at all."

You clenched your jaw, your grip tightening on the armrest as your stomach turned at his words.

The casual cruelty in his voice was disturbing, the way he spoke about the hosts like they were nothing more than objects to be used and discarded.

It was the kind of talk that made your skin crawl.

"And you know, the best part?" he continued, his voice dripping with twisted satisfaction. "After I was done, I shot her right in the head. She fell like a goddamn doll. And the way the other girls screamed—man, I've never felt so powerful."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of anger and disgust swirling inside you. Behind him, his friend laughed, low and crude.

"You're sick, man. But I gotta hand it to you—there's nothing like having absolute control. Makes you realize what you’re missing out on in the real world, doesn't it?"

Kiro, who had been staring out of the opposite window, turned her head sharply, her eyes blazing with indignation. "Ugh, what pigs," she gagged, loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough to avoid drawing attention.

Or so you thought.

You turned toward her, already sensing where this was going. "Kiro, don't," you whispered, trying to catch her eye, but she was already leaning forward, her expression set in a fierce scowl.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice cutting through the men’s conversation like a knife. Both of them turned, startled by the sudden interruption. "What an amazing story," she continued, dripping with sarcasm. "Can you maybe speak a little louder so we can all enjoy hearing about you fucking a decapitated host?"

The entire cabin fell silent. Every conversation around you stuttered and died as heads turned in your direction. The men stared at her, eyes wide in shock, before the one who had been bragging about his exploits found his voice.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" he barked, his face flushing with anger and embarrassment.

You reached out, grabbing Kiro's arm in an attempt to pull her back into her seat. "Kiro, please, just—" you began, but she shrugged you off, her gaze never leaving the men.

"Me? Problem?" she said, her voice cold and clear. "Looks like you have the problem, sitting over here bragging about doing sick shit. Sounds like you need a fucking therapist, not a vacation."

The man's face turned an even deeper shade of red as he sputtered, clearly not used to being called out so directly. His companion shifted uncomfortably, looking around at the other passengers who were now watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of curiosity and discomfort.

With a devastated, horrified shriek, you yanked Kiro back down into her seat, your fingers digging into the soft fabric of her dress as you hissed her name. "Kiro!"

The man grunted, shoving himself up from his seat. "Whatever. Let's get out of here," he muttered, jerking his head toward the back of the train. His friend followed suit, and you watched as they made their way down the aisle, their bravado crumbling under the weight of the stares that followed them.

Eventually, the low hum of conversation slowly filled the cabin again, the brief drama fading into the background noise of the train.

You pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead, rubbing at the spot between your eyes where a headache was beginning to bloom. "You can't let it get to you like that," you murmured, leaning closer so only she could hear. "You know it's common to hear things like that in here. Most people come to this place to live out their worst impulses."

Kiro let out a reluctant sigh, her shoulders sagging as she sank back into her seat. "I know," she muttered, a scowl tugging at the corners of her mouth. "But it's still bullshit. It doesn't matter if they're hosts. It's just wrong." She crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers tapping impatiently against her biceps. "And this ridiculous getup doesn't help either."

You glanced at her outfit, your lips quirking into a smile despite the lingering tension.

The soft yellow fabric of her dress shimmered faintly in the afternoon light, the white lace trim at the collar and cuffs adding a delicate, almost ethereal touch. The bodice hugged her frame perfectly, the high waist flaring out into a gentle, flowing skirt that fell just above her ankles.

Matching gloves, made of the same soft material, covered her hands, and a small hat, adorned with a delicate white ribbon, sat perched on her head, complementing her olive skin tone. Her silky straight hair was tied up in an intricate bun beneath the hat, a few stray strands framing her face.

"You look fine," you teased, nudging her gently with your elbow.

Kiro rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips as she nudged you back. "Yeah, you can only say that because you’ve been here a hundred times. You're probably more used to wearing this old-western shit than regular clothes."

You laughed, reaching out to playfully pinch her arm. "That's not true," you protested, grinning as she swatted your hand away. "In my defense, the aesthetic is cute." You gestured to your own outfit, smoothing down the dark emerald green fabric of your dress.

The rich, velvety material clung to your figure in all the right places, the cream accents along the hem and sleeves adding a touch of elegance.

The dress was designed in the same style as Kiro's, with a fitted bodice and a flared skirt that swayed with every movement. A small matching hat perched atop your head, the delicate cream ribbon fluttering gently as the train continued its steady journey.

You tugged at your matching gloves, the emerald fabric soft and smooth against your fingers.

"You can't deny it's fun to dress up a little," you added, leaning back in your seat. "Even if it is a bit…anachronistic."

Kiro snorted, her smirk widening into a grin. "Yeah, well, I'd still prefer my jeans and a t-shirt any day over this." She glanced down at her outfit, shaking her head. "I feel like I'm playing dress-up in some weird historical reenactment."

You chuckled, the last remnants of tension melting away as the train rocked gently beneath you. "That's the whole point, though. It’s supposed to be a break from reality."

"Yeah, a break from reality where people think it’s okay to act like total assholes," Kiro muttered, but there was no real bite in her voice. She glanced at you, her eyes softening. "Thanks for trying to keep me out of trouble."

"Always," you said, smiling. "But next time, maybe just let it slide. We're here to have fun, remember?"

Kiro rolled her eyes, but she leaned back in her seat with a sigh. "Yeah, yeah. I'll try to remember that."

The train began to slow, the rhythmic clatter of wheels against tracks softening as it pulled into the station. You felt the change in momentum as it gently rocked to a stop, the hiss of steam filling the cabin.

The conductor's voice, gruff but polite, echoed through the car.

"Welcome to Sweetwater, ladies and gentlemen," he called out, tipping his hat as he moved down the aisle. "Please mind your step as you disembark. Have a fine day, and enjoy your visit to the frontier."

The passengers around you stood, gathering their belongings and chatting excitedly as they prepared to disembark.

You exchanged a glance with Kiro, who rolled her eyes playfully at the conductor's formal tone but couldn't hide the glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

You stood, smoothing down the skirt of your dress before picking up your leather bag.

The air was filled with the rustling of clothing, the creak of leather boots against the wooden floor, and the hum of anticipation as everyone shuffled toward the exit.

Stepping down from the train onto the wooden platform, you were momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight. You blinked, shielding your eyes with one gloved hand as you adjusted to the sudden change.

The warmth of the sun contrasted sharply with the cool, dusty air that carried the faint scent of horses and fresh-baked bread from the nearby bakery.

Sweetwater spread out before you like a scene from a storybook. The town was bustling with life, the wooden buildings lined up along the dusty main street, their colorful signs swaying gently in the breeze.

Horses trotted by, their hooves clopping against the dirt road, while a stagecoach rumbled past, the driver tipping his hat to the ladies on the sidewalk.

Kiro stepped down beside you, her eyes wide as she took in the sight. "Wow," she breathed, her voice filled with awe. She turned in a slow circle, taking in everything from the saloon with its swinging doors to the blacksmith's forge where the sound of hammering echoed faintly through the air. "This is… incredible."

You couldn't help but smile at her reaction, memories of your own first visit flooding back. The overwhelming sense of wonder, the feeling that you'd stepped into another world, a place where anything was possible.

It was a sensation that had faded over time, but seeing it through Kiro's eyes brought a flicker of it back to life.

Before you could say anything, Kiro snapped out of her daze, her grin wide and infectious as she grabbed your arm. "Let's go check it out!" she exclaimed, pulling you along before you could protest.

The two of you made your way down the bustling street, weaving between groups of people.

You passed a group of children chasing each other, their laughter ringing out as they dodged between the legs of a tall man in a duster coat. He chuckled, tipping his hat to you as you passed.

The town was alive with energy, a mix of hosts and guests moving about, some lost in their own narratives, others just exploring.

A woman in a bright red dress leaned against the railing of the saloon, batting her eyelashes at a group of men who were clearly guests, their excitement palpable as they fumbled through the door.

A few steps ahead, you noticed a man standing on a wooden crate, a sheriff's star pinned to his chest. He was surrounded by a small crowd, gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

"A posse is being organized to chase down a man who murdered the Marshal!" he announced, his voice carrying over the noise of the street. "Murderous son of a bitch named Hector Escaton gunned down the Marshal in cold blood. He's holed up in the mountains, and we need every able-bodied person willing to bring him to justice."

The crowd murmured, a few men stepping forward eagerly. The sheriff's gaze swept over the people gathered around him, landing on you and Kiro as you passed by.

"You there," he called out, pointing in your direction. "You look like the kind of ladies who’d put your mettle to it."

Kiro's eyes lit up, her hand already lifting in an enthusiastic wave as she nodded eagerly. "Really? Hell ye—"

"Not today, Sheriff," you cut in smoothly, stepping between Kiro and the man with a polite smile. "Apologies." You hooked your arm through hers, steering her away before she could argue.

"Hey, I could've done it!" she protested, though her tone was more playful than serious. She looked over her shoulder, watching as the sheriff turned back to his recruiting.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and teasing. "Oh, I know you could've. I one hundred percent believe that," you said, patting her arm reassuringly as you guided her through the crowd. "But first, we've got to put our things away at the inn."

Kiro sighed dramatically but nodded, her curiosity about the town clearly winning out over the missed opportunity.

Together, you made your way down the bustling street, the inn's weathered sign swinging gently in the breeze as you approached.

A little while later, you were in your room, humming a soft tune under your breath as you folded your clothes and placed them neatly in the drawer.

The room was simple but cozy, the wooden floors creaking slightly under your feet as you moved around, setting up your things.

The afternoon sun filtered through the lace curtains, casting a warm, golden light across the room.

You were just placing your hat on the dresser when the door burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud thud. You jumped, turning to see Kiro standing in the doorway, her eyes gleaming and a wide grin plastered across her face.

"They have a saloon!" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

You blinked, momentarily confused by her enthusiasm. "Yeahhh…" you said slowly, tilting your head as you tried to figure out why she was so excited. "We saw it earlier. Remember?"

Kiro didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stalked forward, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. She placed her hands on your shoulders, staring you directly in the eyes, her expression dead serious. "If there's a saloon, that means there’s alcohol," she said, her voice low and intense, as if she were imparting some great secret.

You raised an eyebrow, still not quite following. "Okay…?"

"And if there's alcohol," she continued, her grip tightening on your shoulders, "you know what that means? Drunk-ass susceptible banks!"

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "Really, Kiro? Are you seriously planning to spend your week here doing the same thing you do back home? Get a roster of dudes?"

Kiro snorted, releasing your shoulders as she plopped down on your bed, the springs creaking under her weight. "Uhhh, duh," she sang, grinning up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What else am I supposed to do? It's my birthday. Plus, this is the perfect time to meet and get my thot shit on without worrying if the dude will find my ass and want a relationship."

You paused, your hands stilling as you turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "What happened to the whole 'treating hosts like people' bit back on the train earlier?"

Kiro looked at you like you’d just killed a dog or smacked her across the face. "What!? I am!" she protested, her voice rising in indignation. "If anything, me not fucking them would be discriminatory. Hell, I'm giving them the ultimate human treatment by treating them like one of my potential hoes."

You snorted, shaking your head as you folded the last of your clothes and slid the drawer shut. "You're ridiculous," you said, but there was no real bite to your words. A smile tugged at your lips as you glanced over at her.

Kiro just grinned, one eyebrow quirking up as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You love me," she said, winking dramatically.

"Unfortunately," you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from her.

Before she could retaliate, she hopped up from the bed, practically bouncing on her heels as she clapped her hands together. "Now, hurry up!" she whined, grabbing your arm and tugging on it like a petulant child. "We've gotta get to the saloon before all the good stuff is gone. I want to get my drink on and find some sweet-talking cowboy to take advantage of."

You laughed, letting her pull you toward the door. "You really think you're gonna find someone like that here?"

Kiro scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she gave you a playful smirk. "Please. With this face?" She gestured to herself dramatically. "I'm irresistible. Hosts, guests, doesn't matter. They'll all be lining up for a chance with me."

"Your confidence is astounding," you said dryly, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at you. "Now, come on! Time's wasting!"

You let her lead you out of the room and down the creaky wooden stairs to the main lobby, the warm, dusty scent of the inn filling your senses as you passed by the front desk and out the door.

The sun was beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the town as the two of you made your way back down the main street.

The atmosphere was even livelier than before, with more guests mingling among the hosts, their faces alight with excitement and curiosity.

A couple of men sat outside a shop, their hats tipped low over their eyes as they chatted, while a woman in a bright red dress twirled a parasol, her eyes scanning the crowd with a practiced gaze.

Kiro's grip on your arm was firm but gentle as she pulled you along, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she pointed out various sights along the way. "Look, there's the sheriff's office!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her toes. "And over there's the general store. We should totally check that out later."

As you approached the saloon, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses.

You glanced up as you approached, your eyes tracing the elegant script of the sign hanging above the entrance. Mariposa Saloon, it read, the letters etched in gold against a backdrop of dark wood, a pair of butterfly wings painted delicately on either side.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever lay beyond those swinging doors.

Kiro nudged you with her elbow, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Ready?" she asked, her voice barely containing her eagerness.

You nodded, pushing through the doors and stepping inside. The first thing that hit you was the smell—a heady mix of cigar smoke, polished wood, and the sweet, slightly tangy scent of whiskey.

It was almost overwhelming, yet oddly inviting, like stepping into another world entirely.

The low hum of conversation filled the air, punctuated by the clink of glasses and the occasional burst of raucous laughter.

The saloon was packed. Men in dust-covered coats and wide-brimmed hats leaned against the bar, their boots scuffing the polished floor as they chatted and laughed with each other.

A group of cowboys sat around a table near the back, cards in their hands and suspicious looks on their faces as they eyed one another over the pot of coins in the center.

Near the front, a few of the saloon's workers, dressed in vibrant, corset-style dresses, drifted gracefully through the crowd, their eyes sharp as they scanned for potential customers.

And then there was the music.

A piano in the corner was being played with enthusiasm, the lively melody filling the room and blending with the soft, sultry voice of the showgirl on stage. She was stunning, her sequined dress catching the light as she swayed to the rhythm, her voice weaving a spell over the crowd as she sang of love and loss and whiskey.

"Damn," Kiro breathed beside you, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the scene. "It's like we've stepped back in time."

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from the showgirl for a moment longer. "Yeah, it really is something," you murmured, feeling that familiar, intoxicating sense of wonder settle over you.

Kiro's hand on your arm brought you back to the present, and you followed her as she made a beeline for the bar.

The bartender, a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and a roguish smile, glanced up as you approached. He threw a towel over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement as he took in the two of you.

"Well, now," he drawled, leaning against the counter with a practiced ease. "What can I get you fine ladies tonight?"

Kiro's eyes narrowed playfully as she pushed herself up onto the bar, leaning over it just enough to draw the bartender's gaze. "Depends," she purred, her voice dropping into a low, seductive lilt. "What do you have that's strong enough to make a girl forget her name but sweet enough to have her calling yours?"

The bartender’s grin widened, his gaze flicking down to her lips before returning to her eyes. "I think I've got just the thing," he said, his tone matching hers. He reached under the bar, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses. "You like bourbon, darlin'?"

"Love it," Kiro replied, her smile matching the bartender’s as she watched him pour the drinks with a practiced hand.

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you watched the two of them. This was classic Kiro—bold, confident, and utterly unafraid to go after what she wanted, even if it was just a bit of flirtation with a good-looking bartender.

The bartender slid the glasses across the counter, his fingers brushing lightly against Kiro's as she reached for hers. "There you go," he said, his voice warm and smooth. "A drink strong enough to make you forget anything you want. And if you're looking for more than just the drink, well…" He leaned in a little closer, his smile turning wicked. "I'm here all night."

Kiro's laugh was low and throaty as she picked up her glass, taking a slow sip while keeping her eyes locked on his. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, her voice a soft purr.

You shook your head, chuckling softly as you picked up your own drink. Turning away from the bar, you took a sip, savoring the burn of the bourbon as it slid down your throat.

It was good—smooth and strong, with just a hint of sweetness.

As you let your gaze wander around the room, you took in the scene before you. At one table, a group of cowboys were deep in a game of cards, their faces tense as they watched each other’s hands with keen eyes.

Nearby, one of the saloon workers, a woman in a bright green dress, leaned over a gentleman’s shoulder, her fingers trailing lightly down his arm as she whispered something in his ear. He laughed, tipping his hat back as he glanced up at her with a wide grin.

On the stage, the showgirl continued to sing, her voice filling the room with its sultry tones. She twirled, her dress sparkling in the light, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in by her performance, the way she seemed to captivate everyone in the room.

It really did feel like you'd been transported to the past, to some forgotten corner of the world where anything was possible and reality was just a distant memory.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it, the drink warming you from the inside as you leaned back against the bar, the weight of the real world falling away.

Kiro's laughter pulled you back, and you turned to see her still chatting with the bartender, her eyes bright with excitement.

You smiled, raising your glass in a silent toast to her.

Your eyes drifted lazily around the room, taking in the lively atmosphere and the myriad of stories unfolding around you.

Then, your gaze snagged on a figure seated in the far corner of the saloon, half-hidden in the shadows. Your heart immediately skipped a beat, the breath catching in your throat.

It was him.

He sat alone, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he nursed a drink, his eyes fixed on the stage with an intensity that bordered on sadness, frustration etched in the lines of his brow.

His skin, a rich dark brown, contrasted sharply with the crisp, tailored suit he wore—an outfit that screamed sophistication and wealth, a stark difference from the dust-covered patrons that filled the room.

He looked like he had stepped out of another world, his presence commanding yet somehow withdrawn.

His suit was a deep charcoal gray, the fine wool perfectly fitted to his frame. His polished boots, gleaming faintly in the dim light, tapped lightly against the floorboards, the only hint of movement in his otherwise still figure.

He held his glass loosely in one hand, the amber liquid inside catching the light as he swirled it absently before taking a slow sip of his drink, his jaw clenching as he swallowed.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the noise of the saloon dimming to a distant hum as you watched him. Before you could find yourself getting lost in your thoughts, a tap on your shoulder jolted you back to reality.

You turned to see Kiro watching you with a raised brow, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern. "Hey, you okay? Did something happen?" she asked, her voice cutting through the haze that had enveloped your mind. "What are you looking at?"

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as if you'd been caught doing something you weren't supposed to. Your eyes flicked back to the corner where he sat, your gaze lingering for just a moment before snapping back to Kiro.

You felt your face flush, a wave of heat crawling up your neck as you struggled to find your words. "I—it's nothing," you stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I wasn't looking at anything."

Kiro gave you a look, one eyebrow arched high, her lips quirking into a skeptical smirk.

Normally, she would have pressed you for details, teasing you relentlessly until you either spilled the truth or begged her to stop. But tonight, she just tilted her head slightly, studying you for a moment longer before shrugging and turning back to the bartender, her previous flirtatious grin sliding back into place.

"Okay, if you say so," she murmured, her tone light, but her eyes lingered on you a beat longer than usual before she turned her attention back to the handsome man behind the bar, her laughter ringing out as he said something that made her giggle, her hand lightly brushing against his as she leaned closer.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, your shoulders slumping in relief.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on the drink in your hand or the conversation buzzing around you, your eyes kept wandering back to him.

You wanted to go to him, but the thought of breaking the fragile distance between you was terrifying.

So, instead, you stayed where you were, sipping your drink and trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened every time your gaze found him.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and music, Kiro's voice occasionally breaking through your haze as she dragged you into a conversation or made you clink glasses with her in some impromptu toast.

A/N: hey guys, hope you enjoyed my lil creation of westworld x alien: romulus, andy. tbh im so in love with the concept jajajaj...part 2 will be up tomorrow, trying not to spam posts...

[berylcups]

Okay okay this my last OC for part 5 I swear-! This is Dolce! She’s 22, 5ft on the dot. She is Singaporean Chinese and Japanese living in Napoli since she was 14. She had dead beat parents, her mother basically dropped her off on her father who’s a hitman himself for Dio. Who is he? Well let’s just say he’s super arrogant and has a goopy yellow stand that shapeshifts. 😬 He left her at a boarding school in Napoli when she was 14 and has never came back. Did he die? Or did he move on to a better life? She’ll never know and doesn’t want that closure because either answer would kill her inside. 💔

She’s mostly calm and rational. Shes willing to hear Ghiaccios rants out and give reasons to why certain things the way that they are and or just sympathize with his frustrations. She looks like a valley girl but looks are deceiving- she’s intelligent and knows exactly what to say to keep everyone happy. The only issue is her accent can be a bit thick. So sometimes she needs to repeat herself. She keeps a journal to remind herself how to properly pronounce Italian words and understand Italian slang words. She came to this country not knowing a single Italian word of other than “Ciao”.

She’s Ghiaccios significant other because she’s just so patient with him and she loves that he gives her his full attention- even if it’s just him yelling at her over a stupid idiom. She has a soft spot for nerds and men who’re aggressively dominant. 🥰

There is a bit of a twisted side to her. Sometimes she gets a little too excited when it’s time for her missions. She loves the thrill of the chase and the agony of the victims as they dissolve to death. She has a sickening cackle that’s very unladylike according to Prosciutto. But he’s not going to rain on her parade! Melone suspects this is her way of her getting her own frustrations out and stress out since she’s always the emotional support for the rest of the team.

She has her hobbies like everyone else. She loves to make her own clothing and dreams of being a fashion designer. But those dreams died the minute you joined a crime syndicate. She’s the one you come to if you need your clothes fixed- got holes? Blood stains? Rips and tears? Missing a button? She’s got you covered. 👍

She has a gruesome stand called Lollirot that’s a mech queen bee that shoots out acidic goopy ammo that sticks to people like gum and dissolves them like acid. (Gross) The ammo is affected by temperature so cold temps can make it harden and turn it to acidic shrapnel and it causing it cut up a poor soul and heat back up with body heat making it stick to them again. So she’s paired up with Ghiaccio and Melone majority of the time. It feeds off her blood sugar so she’s always having to consume some sort of sugar to keep her ammo handy or else…hypoglycemia 😬 that could be used against her but she’s gonna hide that secret like her life depends on it because it does!

Ah~ my heart is racing. Why do I always get nervous when I share OCs?! 😭 I hope you all love this little gremlin.

PS- I’m also gonna write a tiny Drabble about calamari interacting with the others to get an idea of how they get along with the others. 👀 it might take a while- I got like 9 men for them to interact with lmao

[theonewhospeaksinweird]

💜🖤(Katakuri Head Canons)💜🖤

💚 = Lime/Lil Spicy

💛 = Lemon

💙 = Sad

❤️ = Angsty (won't do many of these unless prompted)

💜 = Fluff

💔 = Heartbreak (rare unless prompted)

🖤 = Normal

Okay, soo like I have at least 6 story ideas in my drafts, but they're gonna take forever to finish, and I feel I haven't posted much of anything for the few followers that I have, so here is (for once) a short drabble!~

I see these all the time, and my mind is just stuffed with this mochi man, so I gotta relieve some pressure!~ These are gonna be all over the place with how I think things about him are.~ Enjoy!~

<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆

🍩 I feel that sometimes people display Katakuri as so serious, mister grouchy grr grr all the time, but that's just because we mainly saw him when the Strawhat were literally being terrorists. Like, remember how blushy he got with Brulee after his fight?? (Refer to picture at top) This man is literally a softie inside and out with people he's comfortable with!~

🍩 If the incident with Brulee getting hurt as a child bc of him never happened, he'd be so silly with Daifuku and Oven!~

🍩 Like, he'd still be the most serious one, but they'd basically be like Luffy, Zoro and Sanji, haha!~ (I'm literally feral for fanart of those three doing silly shit together!~ 😭)

🍩 Cue Katakuri and Daifuku fighting 24/7 over stupid shit while Oven laughs on the side, and then Daifuku and Oven bantering like children while Katakuri just disassociates beside them.

🍩 I just imagined Katakuri in that tiny shirt Zoro had on in Water 7 while carrying all his little siblings, HELP-

🍩 This isn't a head canon but the one cover art of Katakuri finding out Luffy's the 5th Emperor and him laughing at it while eating donuts with Brulee and Cracker kills me everyday!~ 🥰 He looks so happy and relaxed with them, and his laugh is "BAHAHAHAHA"!!

🍩That cover art just proves he's the sweetest thing!~ He would TOTALLY fall into Strawhat shenanigans if he meets up with the crew again now that Big Mom is gone!~ Kind of like how Zoro is after the time Skip, reserved but still indulges from time to time.

🍩 On the Big Mom being gone note, he is definitely the new captain of the Big Mom Pirates, which he'd probably rename to the Charlotte Pirates or something to get away from Linlin's shadow.

🍩 I can just see Perospero coming home from Wano, all pissed and aggravated from being punched around like nothing by everybody there, yelling at his siblings to do things.

🍩They all just stare, blank faced, at him before pointing to Katakuri running things saying he's the new captain.

🍩 Peros would be livid, going on about how he's the oldest and how he almost DIED fighting alongside Mama in Wano.

🍩 And all of them are like, "Too bad, so sad, Big Brother Katakuri is better. Skill issue, ig- ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯" And list all the healthy things he's been doing for the islands and family while Peros was gone.

🍩 Katakuri is standing right there, a little flustered at the open compliments, trying to tell them to at least give Peros a chance, but Peros is over it.

🍩 Bro just storms out, claiming he don't want the job no more! Petty af for a few days, grumbling about inefficiencies and punishments for stuff done wrong.

🍩 And Katakuri just shakes his head and says they don't do that anymore because it was hurting someone in the family.

🍩 Eventually, Peros sees all the things he's trying to change not just for the crew, but for how their entire family acts and lives.

🍩 They agree to co-captain just so Katakuri isn't left yet again with everything on his shoulders.

🍩 Katakuri's still busy but his siblings try harder to make him take more breaks, especially Brulee and Cracker.

🍩 It would take a while until he relents, kind of acting like Squidward in that one episode where he keeps coming back to the Krusty Krab thinking SpongeBob is gonna fuck everything up, haha!

🍩 It's not that he doesn't trust his siblings and their capabilities, he's just not used to NOT being needed to hold everything together.

🍩 Once he's relaxed in that aspect, I think he'd slowly come out of his shell and start to go out without his scarf.

🍩 At first it's just in his home, which freaks out his staff into thinking they're gonna die by seeing his full face, and then with some hyping from Brulee, he starts going out without it.

🍩He is absolutely a nervous WRECK walking around feeling so bare without it but the townspeople love him so much and say how handsome he is and how COOL his teeth are that he almost CRIES-

🍩 Like, you can't change my mind on this sappy thought bc remember how the people on Pudding's island were when she went back after the wedding to make the cake?? You can't tell me everyone living in Tottoland doesn't ADORE Katakuri, the man who is always protecting them and kept Big Mom in check the best he could all these years!!

🍩 It's so cute how he tries to pull up a scarf that isn't there when he's trying to hide an emotion, and when he realizes what he did it only makes him flustered! ☺️

🍩 Flampe is disgruntled, maybe even still let down, at this development and tries to trash talk him to her siblings, but for once everyone is like "Shut up, little girl, you're literally slandering your brother who loves you very much, wtf?" And she just shuts down!

🍩 I NEED to believe that Brulee like slapped or punished Flampe somehow when she heard all the things she did and said to Katakuri when he took off his scarf during his fight w/ Luffy! 🙏

🍩 Katakuri isn't mad or anything, just hurt, and tells Flampe that he hopes she can love him again, and finally gives her the pets she wanted but doesn't deserve and that makes her little less bratty

🍩 Katakuri's newfound courage to walk about without his scarf leads to Pudding being less ashamed about her third eye, and MAYBE she starts acting like her normal self with a hint of sadism here and there.

🍩 Secretly, Katakuri fiends for ANY new info on Luffy and his crew, talking about them with Brulee who is the only one willing to listen to his fanboy ass.

🍩 When it's revealed that Big Mom was defeated in Wano, he still thanks Luffy for it even though Kidd and Law are the ones that actually took her down.

🍩 It was a Luffy domino effect, so it counts as a Luffy win, trust 👍

🍩 Obviously, he keeps the black hat that Luffy left on him after his fight, and can't help but laugh every time he sees it sitting on his desk. It's a joy boy affect 🥺

🍩 I know Film Red isn't canon, but I can just imagine the aftermath of that with Brulee now being taken with Sanji like Pudding, and those two just gushing over the Strawhat cook to a disgruntled Katakuri who doesn't like the way they talk about the skirt chasing blonde.

🍩 Mochi man holds some respect for Sanji too since he heard how he refused to poison the cake he helped Pudding make for Mama during her hunger rampage. He saved his sibling's lives and much of their territory from being destroyed.

🍩 Still didn't stop him from rolling his eyes at every squeal over his chivalrous words and actions-

🍩 With Katakuri as the new captain, the Charlotte family actually starts healing and acting like a true family over time.

🍩 Katakuri makes sure that the youngest siblings don't grow up with the same traumas all of them grew up with, reassuring them in their appearances and abilities when he can.

🍩 He's an irredeemable villain to you, but he's my special little princess mochi man 🥰

<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆

That's all of my random thoughts and ideas for Katakuri and his family!~ I see why people do this, it's fun to just type what comes to mind and not have to make sure it's sensible in a story, haha!~ I might do one for him again but him with an S/O.~ Maybe him and a few other of my favorites.~

There's not enough for him, I swear I've read everything everywhere already, so now I must make everything I want myself.~ It's a curse to always like side characters that are shown to have depth but aren't given the screen time to explore it!~

Ugh, anyways, see you next time, dearies, I appreciate any feedback and interaction!~ Mwah mwah!~

[vendetta-if]

I hadn't read the AU before and I'm struggling not to sob I can feel Victor's heartbreak and rage. I can picture the funeral and is so soulcrashing

😭💔

omg imagine when Yvette finds out, all hell will break loose

I’m glad you guys enjoy the angst 🥲 I actually just posted a continuation to the story over in Patreon and Ko-Fi. I have the little sneak peek in this post here. The first two parts were supposed to be it but my Patrons wanted more and it won the poll 🤭

Oh, and for those who haven’t read the story yet, I have just released the two parts to the public like a couple of weeks ago and you can find it here and here. Check out the list of other public side stories here too!

But to answer your question about Yvette finding out and coming to the funeral too, it’s important to remember that the Viktor in this AU is really different with the Viktor who died in the main story.

This Viktor is a broken man, a shell of the man he once was. He’s bitter and vengeful, burying the pain and grief inside. So, he won’t be so friendly or cordial if Yvette pops up to the funeral.

He would still let Yvette attend the funeral, but he would be pretty cold to her, especially after what she did in the comic book store.

[detentiontrack]

Things in my vocabulary I say instead of normal words (most of this was developed by being silly with my little siblings)

“Oh she’s smoking a cigaretta” (feminine version of cigarette)

“Oh he’s smoking a fag” (when someone is smoking a cigarette) (I’m american)

Veep (my vape)

tumgle dot org (tumblr dot com)

Suicidal gay people show with frogs (amphibia)

Dyke ass emotion movie (inside out 2)

Car car adventure (car ride)

Oh he’s runnin (people jogging, regardless of gender)

Line of clowns (elementary school pick up car line)

What if I died right now of a brain aneurysm (when someone else inconveniences me)

Should I run this red light/stop sign (thing I say while driving) (I never do)

Who wants to go on a little adventure/mission/quest (literally any kind of errand like going to the grocery store or picking up meds at the pharmacy)

Crazy pills (literally any kind of medication regardless of use. Advil is crazy pills. Tylenol is crazy pills. Allergy meds are crazy pills) UNLESS they are:

Normal pills (me or my sister’s ADHD medication. We don’t call them anything else) (I do not nor have I ever supported dream, but I think the term normal pills is ironically funny)

“No one ever taught me how to tie my shoes” (when someone asks me why I did something bad or annoying. It’s my villain origin story) (I think it originated from diary of a wimpy kid? I don’t remember)

“The voices said xyz/I’m consulting with the voices” (no one in my family knows I have OSDD and they think I’m kidding. I do usually consult the parts but no one knows)

Juice (any kind of drinkable liquid. Coffee, soda, tea, alcohol. It’s all juice.)

Eggie (egg), bagie (bagel), nuggie (chicken nugget), sodie (soda)

Sippy? Sippy for Sagies? (When I want a sip of my siblings’ drinks)

Kick the cat on your way in (when someone is going into my room and I want them to pet CZ and give him love)

“He exploded” (when someone asks where CZ went)

“Still fat” (when someone asks how CZ is)

I’m going to put spoons in the microwave (when I say something and someone doesn’t hear me or isn’t paying attention to me) (sometimes I’ll even put spoons in the microwave but don’t turn it on)

“No one loves Sage 💔 everyone hates Sage 💔 Sage should just bury herself in the yard 💔😭” (when someone isn’t paying attention to me or talks over me)

Can I get acrylics? (When my sisters are asking irrelevant or annoying questions)

I’m going frog mode (when I’m being brave)

You are in the presence of the bravest girl on planet earth (when I’m being brave)

I’m going to be on the news (when something bad or inconvenient happens. Alternative to “I’m gonna kms”)

I’m gonna run away to frog world (alternative to “I’m gonna kms”)

Oh my god…. I’m pregnart (when I’m nauseous for any reason)