#I just thought this list would be fun to make :]

[hxney-lemcn]

Mine, Only Mine — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?

tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)

wc: 1.2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥I know people have written about how he gets jealous…but I don’t really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling won’t pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear scene…). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isn’t too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did. 

❥On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you don’t like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, he’ll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special. 

❥Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and he’ll be as right as rain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3

❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?

❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.

❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.

❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye. 

❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.

❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.

❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation. 

❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?

❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he’s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella. 

❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.

[httyd-art-requests]

So the teaser for the live action How To Train Your Dragon film has dropped. Have you seen it? Any thoughts on it?

I just saw it, and BOY do I have some thoughts about it lmao

Live action remakes already annoy me for several reasons, and as much as I want to be excited for "new" HTTYD media, it really misses the mark for me

The movie doesn't look original to me. It's so obviously a remake of something else that it loses any personality it could otherwise have. If the original HTTYD movie had been a live action movie from the start, it would have looked nothing like this, because the creators would have tried to create something that stood out from other movies. This one just feels like a checklist being completed in front of me: "right so we'll have this scene, and then we'll have this scene, and the dragon does this, and the boy does this, and then this is the part the fans like so we're going to recreate it 1:1", but no real understanding of what made the original as beloved as it is.

This trailer just looks soulless to me, but I'm holding out hope that the other trailers will show us more and hopefully prove me wrong

Toothless's design is... fine I guess? They made his hind legs digitegrade for some reason, which just looks very jarring to me. Idk why they felt the need to change it, it's one of the details that made his design feel unique to me. Like dragons' legs are almost always depicted as dinosaur-like and digitegrade, and HTTYD having dragons that have plantigrade legs feels really cool. The wings are comically oversized and he lost a lot of his personality based on the scene recreations shown in the trailer (like the silly People Sit he does in the original, now he just sits like a dog lmao) but it really, really could have been worse.

I slowed it down to catch some of the other dragon species' designs and eeeeeehhhh... They're recognizable, I'll say that. They also lost a lot of the personality that the original models had, they look a lot more uniform in their proportions. I really don't see why making them look "realistic" has to mean that they look more boring, when we have so many animals irl that look fake and made up because of how absurd they look. They could have had more fun with it is what I'm saying

Casting Gerard Butler as Stoick feels like the only actually good decision, his voice as Stoick just can't be recreated. Hiccup's actor is... also fine I guess, no strong feelings whatsoever.

The thing that bothers me the most is the lighting. The original HTTYD movie paid special attention to making the lighting look as realistic and believable as possible. It's atmospheric and helps you get sucked into the world while you watch. "Subdued" is probably a good word to describe it. It very intentionally doesn't go overboard. The lighting in the trailer looks fake as hell. They could be using real actual lighting conditions on set and I still wouldn't believe it's real.

Overall, I have mixed feelings despite all the negative things I just listed. I'm sharing in the excitement of all the people who want to watch it, but I'm still disappointed that it, like, exists at all. No matter what this movie ends up looking like, I'm always going to prefer the original animated movies. I'm open to being proved wrong though, I really hope this movie is going to be better than anything we're imagining rn

[cozylittleartblog]

Hello! 🦠 anon here again... I'm not sure if my ask wast sent so im gonna ask again,

What are your headcanons on swatch? Can you tell more of your concept of them? Like how do you view him? I would really appreciate it even it's like small fun facts! thanks a lot :)

you're fine i didn't have art to post so i didn't log in for a few days. uhhhhhh SwatchThoughts(tm):

they're the head butler ofc, but they're also queen's right-hand-man (gender neutral), her #1 bestie. they know everything about her, even about lancer before the events of ch2. they will literally do anything she asks and anything that will entertain her. it's tiring and they do complain sometimes but they enjoy their work, they know what a kind person she really is and that she's generally a good ruler, so they like to make her happy :)

weirdly competitive. nobody beats them in queen's monthly fruit-smashing competition and if you somehow do, they're a good sport but You Will Not Win Next Month. You Won't.

workaholic. oh god they wear so many hats in the mansion and they're so tired all the time, it's a miracle they get everything done

the color cafe is a regular butler cafe up front and a host club in the back. a handful of the birds, including swatch, can be paid (at quite high rates, swatch especially) to join you for drinks or sweets, flirt with you, cuddle - p much have a sweet and lightly romantic time. you would not believe how much money spamton dumped into the host club back in the day. their undisputed #1 customer even 20 years later

i generally view them as very asexual (demi specifically. + nonbinary) but they still love their host work! it's fun, they like making people happy and playing at being a romantic. and the sweets. they like the sweets just as much 🍰

damn good chef and an even better baker

very polite but short tempered 😔 they're quick to rough up people who don't follow the rules or who just personally annoy them/cause chaos, and they always win

they are the tallest swatchling, at 9 feet tall. Beast. good for carrying queen on their broad shoulders though!

their feathers, which are all slightly curly, have a slight iridescence to them that tint, along with accents on their outfit, in accordance to their mood or the paint they've been drinking . the default is pink

dressed to the nines 24/7. even on their time off.

they adore their birds. they spawned each and every single one of them (the ones in their own flock that work for queen, anyway), they know all their names even when everyone's the same color and they remember what's going on in their lives. which is impressive when there's at least a couple hundred of them ;;;

their favorite flavor of paint is dusty lilac

their favorite normal flavor is strawberry

as an art program they not only create things for lightners but also for queen ! they design a lot of things for her with her input, and with as quickly as they can draw things directly into the dark world they're always working on things for her, while dressing up their cafe for themed events in-between.

the underside of their tail is a swatchbook

they love being pet please pet them please please please p

[daisymbin]

14. "oh, so now we’re holding hands?" With Wonwoo pls and female:)))

thank you for requesting! please let me know what you think about it 🥰

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

fluff prompt #14: "oh, so now we're holding hands?"

wonwoo didn’t know what he did wrong.

one moment, everything was fine. the next, you were cold, sharp replies replacing your usual warmth, and any attempt he made to talk to you was met with an annoyed glare. you weren’t outright ignoring him, but you might as well at this point.

so he did what any reasonable person would do: he followed you around and tried to make you laugh, even if it meant annoying you further. but no matter how much he teased or tried to catch your attention, you stayed firmly in your icy bubble, refusing to give him an inch.

after dinner with the rest of the boys, he thought you’d leave the moment the dishes were cleared. instead, you lingered in the living room, scrolling on your phone while pretending he wasn’t there.

thats when the idea came to him; he quickly pulled his phone out, texting jeonghan.

"let's watch a horror movie, im in the mood for it." jeonghan declared out loud. you didn’t object & wonwoo could only count that as a silent win.

wonwoo should feel bad, he really should, because he knows scary movies weren’t your thing, but he doesnt feel any remorse or guilt. so here you were, sitting stiffly on the couch beside him, your arms crossed, your gaze fixed stubbornly on the screen.

he tried not to smile, he really tried.

“you know, if you’re still mad at me, you can just say so,” he whispered as the opening credits rolled.

you didn’t even spare him a glance. “i’m not mad.”

“right,” he said, dragging out the word. “you’re just giving me the cold shoulder for fun.”

“wonwoo.” your tone was a warning, but it only made him grin wider.

“okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. but as the movie started and the eerie soundtrack filled the room, he couldn’t resist stealing glances at you, waiting for the moment you’d crack.

it didn’t take long.

the first jumpscare made you flinch. by the third, you were gripping the edge of the couch cushion so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

and then came the scene. the one with the flickering lights and the slow, suspenseful build-up that everyone knew would end in something terrible.

you tensed beside him, this is it, wonwoo thinks. your breath hitching as the music swelled. and just as the shadow moved on screen, you let out a startled yelp; one hand moving to grab at his biceps, hiding your face behind it and the other subconsciously intertwines with his fingers, clutching it tightly

he blinked, startled by the yelp you let out even though he expected it, and then, a slow, triumphant smile took over his face.

“oh?” his voice was soft, teasing. “so now we’re holding hands?”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide with realization. “i—i wasn’t—” you stammered, trying to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, keeping your fingers firmly intertwined with his.

“uh-uh,” he said, his tone light but his hold steady. “you can’t just grab my hand and then let go like that. that’s rude, you know.”

“wonwoo,” you said, your cheeks burning as you tried to tug your hand free again. “let go.”

“no,” he replied, his thumb brushing casually over your knuckles. “besides, you’re still scared, right? so what’s the harm in holding on a little longer?”

“i’m not scared,” you shot back, though the tremble in your voice betrayed you.

“sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “totally fearless. that’s why you’re clinging to me like your life depends on it.”

“i am not clinging,” you hissed, glaring at him even as your face grew hotter.

he chuckled, the sound low and warm, and leaned in just slightly. “you’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“i’m not flustered,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “and i’m still mad at you, by the way.” a small pout makes its way to your face.

“really?” he asked, his voice softening as he tilted his head. “because you’re not acting very mad right now.”

“i am,” you insisted, though your resolve was quickly crumbling under the weight of his teasing gaze and the warmth of his hand in yours.

“mhmm,” he hummed, his smile turning fond as he looked at you. “well, just so you know, i’m not letting go until you’re not mad anymore.”

your eyes darted to your joined hands, your heart racing as you registered the sincerity in his voice beneath the teasing.

“i’m not mad,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“oh?” he said, his grin widening. “so does that mean you’re holding my hand because you want to now?”

"I'm not holding your hand, you're holding mine!" you argued, your cheeks burning as you tried to pull away one last time.

but wonwoo didn’t budge. instead, he laced his fingers fully with yours, his grip firm but gentle.

“you should know,” he said softly, his teasing edge fading as he looked at you, “if you hold my hand so tight like this, i’m never letting go.”

your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling into the space between you like a promise.

[merakiui]

How do you think Riddle would get into a friends with benefits relationship? Also, how would a relationship with him like that work anyway? Would it be something everyone’s aware of yet refuses to acknowledge? Would his dorm have more respect for you for calming the his tiny tyrant? I feel like ironically he would be a lot calmer around you and it would be a healthy start of a relationship for you two. But I’d like to hear your thoughts please.

I like to imagine Riddle was raised with the idea that you should only date for marriage and that marriage must always be the end goal in a relationship. No such thing as loveless "friends with benefits" or flimsy "situationships." Very traditional ideals ingrained in his head, courtesy of Mama Rosehearts. >_< so it's baffling to him when he's at NRC and learns about all kinds of different relationships. Hook-ups, fwb, complicated situationships, rebounds... there's just so much to keep track of and it's all so new.

Maybe it starts from a drunken mishap. Of course there's going to be alcohol at college parties, whether on campus or off campus. Maybe it's Deuce who mixes up the drinks and hands Riddle something alcoholic, or maybe Riddle himself decides he'll have alcohol that night. Maybe the two of you share a few kisses and some wandering hands in the corridor. Or maybe the two of you regularly spent time together and one thing led to another and... :) either way, there's a physical shift in your relationship together and Riddle isn't the type to let things hang up in the air.

Perhaps it's just for stress relief and pleasure. Nothing more. And perhaps it's curiosity or chemistry or something, but it doesn't sound terrible. It's Riddle's first time in this sort of relationship, but he won't deny that what the two of you did was enjoyable, even if you were both mutually intoxicated to remember most of it. ^^;;; regardless, so long as you're comfortable and okay with this, he wouldn't mind turning this into something. He's not sure how he's meant to feel when you say everything is no commitment and that you're just friends and that all of this is just casual. Riddle is a very committed guy who is so far from casual even though he's trying his best to be more lenient with himself and everything in his life. But those words are the best ways to describe all of this. Perhaps it's why he adds "no kissing" to the list of rules because kissing is a very romantic thing to him.

He's very meticulous, so naturally he makes sure to establish clear boundaries and rules. You go over what's on the table and what's a no-go. What the expectations (or lack thereof) should be. And for the first time in his life he's echoing the complete opposite of what his mother would lecture him about. No marriage. No dating. No romance. Just sex. It's friendship, but with benefits (as the name implies).

Funnily enough, I feel like he tries to set aside time for these things, but then who pencils into their schedule when they're going to have sex??? T_T maybe it's all spontaneous and impulsive, and at first it's a huge shift from what he's used to. But it's fun. He's never experienced anything like this before and you're just so...perfect. You're everything.

You'll witness new sides to Riddle the longer you spend with him, getting to know the guy beneath all of the stringent rules. Your friendship definitely strengthens during the times you spend with him, and Riddle is trying not to expect anything. Why would you or he stick around after sex? And why should he fret over his appearance and what he wears when you decide to go into town together? It's not a date. It's not romance. It's just sex. He has to remind himself of this when the two of you wake up curled into each other. That's just...biology. The human body needs warmth when it's cold. That's just normal. Aaaaa he's falling and he's not sure he can stay strictly casual and no commitment anymore.

As for who knows,,,, definitely Trey and Cater. Riddle goes to Trey about all kinds of stuff because they're friends and Trey is a good voice of reason, and it doesn't take a genius to understand what's happening. Trey won't say it outright, but he does try to poke at the issue to gauge where Riddle stands: "Well, if you like (Name) so much, what do you have to lose?" And poor Riddle is so frazzled because everything, Trey, he could lose everything if you don't feel the same way!!!! And Cater's been knowing LOL. He probably knew the day of the party that there was a vibe. >:)

There are so many hurdles and bumps to your relationship, but I do think it's very sweet if and when you and Riddle officially become a couple. And if not,,, perhaps Heartslabyul can push the two of you together because you're just the cutest, most cammable pair on campus right now (Cater's words). <3

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Heyy!! first of all your writing is SO GOOD i have come across an amazing writer such as yourself in a long long time. I was wondering if you could write something for remus lupin with the promt 44 in the list? probably like co-workers to lovers kind of a thing. i love him sm i wish he were real ( not that i'd have a chance but still ). THANK YOU SM <33 LOTS OF LOVE

STOP IT, you're making me blush!! You’re so sweet, and I appreciate you taking the time to tell me that—you’ve officially made my day!!

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ REMUS LUPIN #44: "Tell me three reasons why I should put up with you." "Well, for starters, I'm cute."

You leaned against the staffroom door, your eyes locked on the brooding figure hunched over a pile of essays. The quill in Remus Lupin’s hand moved furiously, his brows furrowed in concentration. Honestly, he looked a bit like a kicked puppy—a really cute, endearingly grumpy puppy.

"Oi, Lupin." You sauntered in, plopping into the chair opposite him. "You look like you’re grading the downfall of humanity, not essays."

Without looking up, he muttered, "If you'd read this one, you’d think the same."

You laughed, the sound bright in the dull, parchment-scented room. "Careful, Professor Lupin, your grumpiness is showing."

Remus sighed, finally meeting your gaze, his tired eyes tinged with exasperation. "Some of us take our work seriously."

"And some of us," you shot back with a smirk, "know how to have fun while doing it. You should try it sometime—fun, I mean. It’s delightful."

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he caught himself. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought you were done for the day."

"I was," you said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "but I heard you were holed up here, looking like a medieval monk. Thought I’d check on you."

"How thoughtful," he deadpanned, though the faintest blush dusted his cheeks.

You grinned, knowing you were getting to him. "You’re welcome. Now, I demand your attention for at least five minutes."

"Why?" he asked, tilting his head and raising a brow.

"Because I’m adorable," you quipped, twirling a strand of hair.

"Debatable," he shot back, though his cheeks flushed pinker.

"Rude," you gasped, clutching your chest like he'd just insulted your honor. "You wound me, Lupin."

His lips curved into the tiniest smile, and you knew you had him.

"Fine," he said, sitting back and crossing his arms. "You want my attention? Tell me three reasons why I should put up with you."

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand, your smirk growing. "Well, for starters, I’m cute."

"Debatable," he repeated, but his voice was softer, teasing.

"And second," you continued, ignoring him, "I make your dull, miserable days brighter with my sparkling wit and charm."

His eyes rolled, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching.

"And third," you finished with a dramatic sigh, "you secretly like me and would miss me terribly if I stopped bothering you."

For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes studying you like you were one of his more perplexing students. You felt your pulse quicken, the usual banter hanging in the air like a question left unanswered.

Then he smiled—small and shy, but genuine—and looked down at the essays in front of him.

"You’re insufferable," he said, but there was no heat behind it.

"You’re blushing, Lupin," you teased, your grin widening.

"I’m not," he mumbled, his ears now undeniably red.

"Oh, you are. I win."

"Win what?" he asked, glancing up at you again.

"Whatever this is," you said, motioning between the two of you.

"Well," he said softly, "if this is winning, I think I’m alright with losing."

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in. Was Remus Lupin—grumpy, shy, always-buried-in-books Remus Lupin—flirting with you?

"Careful, Lupin," you said, leaning back in your chair, though your voice was softer now. "You keep talking like that, and I might start to think you like me."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and for the first time, he didn’t deny it.

[itsmemuffy]

When I published my first post, wanted to keep the momentum going. It was my goal to post weekly and well.... it's been two weeks ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I abandoned all my little drabbles to focus on a full-length fic that is becoming waaay longer than I anticipated. Thought I'd post a little WIP Wednesday to make sure I don't go back into the ether. Can't wait to have this one finished, I've been having a lot of fun writing it.

Contents: Original Trilogy! Logan x fem reader, naive reader, obsessive Logan, suggestive content, Charles makes an appearance

Summary: You keep everything running as smooth as possible in the background while Professor Xavier keeps a very full plate of locating mutants, running the school, and leading the X-Men. A steady stream of mutants come and go through the mansion, but a certain one in particular makes it his mission to nestle his way into your life.

The past few days had been a whirlwind for Logan. He's the type of man that goes where he wants to go- and waking up in an infirmary on a small hospital cot after being round up like some sort of animal was not on his list of things to do that week, to say the least.

For all intents and purposes, his next plan of action was to get away from here as soon as he possibly could and get back to the life he lived on his own terms. His only home and form of transportation was totalled somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness, sure, but he already had experience starting over from nothing.

When he first met you, a cute little thing diligently running errands to what was perhaps the one man who could have his answers, you immediately piqued Logan's interest. So sweet and so kind, and Charles put his trust in you?

He had barged in like he owned the place on you and the professor scheduling out the upcoming semester in his office. Charles appeared to have already gotten used to this type behavior from him. "This, my dear, is Logan. He will hopefully be joining us now."

Oh... so is he planning to stick around? You ponder as you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning onto Charles' desk with your hip. Logan immediately came off as brooding and dismissive, and he didn't seem like the type to settle into a place beaming with so much activity. Regardless, you extended your hand out to him as you told him your name.

It took him a second to register the gesture. He only now noticed how lost in thought he was, eyes caught below your neckline. With a clearing of his throat, Logan reached a hand back to you to shake it. The most formal of ways to greet someone, yet the feeling of your delicate fingers grasping his rough palm caused his mind to wander again. He forced himself back to reality.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around" Logan remained aloof in speech, hoping you didn't notice the way he devoured you with his gaze. He decided to promptly remove himself from the room, searching for the privacy to be alone with his thoughts.

A few interactions after your initial introduction, Logan started to feel something beyond sexual curiosity. You made his heart race, you made him nervous.

Not a single detail went unnoticed by Logan. The way your hips would sway, how you parted your hair, the lipstick you wore, the softness in your voice whenever you greeted him, your scent.

Life kept throwing change in Logan's way, morphing his way of living into something unrecognizable to him. For the last however many years (boy, is he ever bad at keeping track of time) he had filled them with isolation and taking whatever cheap pleasures he could find. Now he finds himself surrendering the space in his mind to a woman he barely knew. You brought warmth and light into a cold, dark place.

No, this wont fly, he thought to himself. The fact that he was losing control over the dynamic between you made him very uncomfortable. Logan made it his mission to learn more about you. If he could just figure you out, he could take the reins over again.

The two of you would always acknowledge eachother in a group setting. The tiny smile Logan would throw your way whenever you caught eyes made you weak. You couldn't help but to want to know more about him too. A rugged man who was a stranger not too long ago was showing you consideration? A man who nobody knows where he's been, what he's done, how old he is? It kind of racked your brain, but you tried not to let it trip you up.

Oh, but he would catch you trip up. It wasn't lost on Logan the times you entered a space with him in it, seemingly to forget what you came in there for. Maybe you were a little ditzy- your mind often racing too fast that you couldn't catch up with yourself, but it had happened too many times for it to be a coincidence. At least, that's what he told himself.

He replicated your behavior, scouting you out amongst the mansion. It wasn't hard for him to find you. Your trail had become so much bolder to his senses, overshadowing anybody else that could be in vicinity.

Logan always found what he was looking for. Excuse after excuse slipped easily from his lips. Obvious to everyone else what he was doing, you earnestly took the bait every time without fail. He marked the first time he had a conversation with you alone as a significant victory.

"Hey, didn't see you there. Have you seen Charles around? I need to talk to him." He had cornered you in the library, watching you read for a minute or two before making his presence known.

You flinched up in your chair, "Jesus Logan, don't sneak up on me like that!" The yelp that initially left your lips was definitely a sound he would remember next time he's alone.

"Sorry, doll. Didn't mean to scare ya," he chuckled.

The upset you felt towards him for breaking your flow state lasted but half a second. You couldn't be mad. After all, whatever he needed Charles for must of been important.

"No, Jean and him are off chaperoning a field trip in the city. He should be back sometime this evening."

Logan let out a little "hmph", trying his best sound to sound disappointed. Inside he was estatic he finally caught up to you again. Now with no one else around, his mind flooded with possibilities on how this could go. The odds of you immediately throwing yourself at him weren't zero, were they? If he were to take you and bend you over the table right this very second, there was a possiblility you'd let him... right? God, am I really this desperate? he thought.

After letting a moment hang in the air, he sat down next to you in the ajacet seat. "So, what are you doing here all by yourself? Got nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon, huh?" Good idea, Logan, change the subject.

"You're one to talk," your focus was now one hundred percent on him. Thighs spread as he lazily leaned back in the chair, rolling his head ro the side. To say he wasn't beautiful like this would be a lie. You've rarely seen him this relaxed. "Aren't you here too?"

"Huh." Logan did not anticipate you to call him out like that, "I guess you've got a point."

An awkward silence sat between the two of you. You pretended to divert your attention back to your book, not letting him escape the corner of your eye. Logan lit up a cigar he fished from his pocket. He desperately needed something to do with his hands.

"This is a library, you know that right?" You chide him after an annoyed sigh.

"Oh, is it now? I thought all these books were just for decoration." His lips sucked in another drag.

"Very expensive books, Logan. There's plenty of perfecly fine places to smoke around here if you just look."

He got up from his seat, "Then why don't you show me around, darlin'? Open my eyes a little." You couldn't quite tell if the pet name was to belittle you or to be affectionate. A hand reached out to bring you to stand. "I'll let you lead the way."

[alexanderwales]

I've heard some people lauding the NATO phonetic alphabet, and am just sort of scratching my head about that.

Like, here were the criteria for words in the alphabet:

Be a live word in each of the three working languages.

Be easily pronounced and recognized by airmen of all languages.

Have good radio transmission and readability characteristics.

Have a similar spelling in at least English, French, and Spanish, and the initial letter must be the letter the word identifies.

Be free from any association with objectionable meanings.

But then you look at what they actually picked and it's like ... okay, you picked a bunch of names? You picked "Whiskey"? On the assumption that what, this is a drink that's common everywhere in the world? That everyone is fine having an alcoholic drink as one of the words? Nowadays I can pull up a global map of whiskey consumption, but that's not something they could do in the 50s, and I would guess that they were not considering e.g. Muslim pilots. (Some places do actually change out "Whiskey" for this reason, along with other regional variants, which are exactly the sort of thing you want in a standard everyone is supposed to be on the same page about.)

And alright, whatever, I think the list is kind of confusingly culturally bound given what the criteria were, but it served its purpose well enough ...

Except that as standards do, it began to be used in other places, including by civilians, and including by civilians when both parties have not agreed on the NATO phonetic alphabet. It would be great if we all had an agreed upon phonetic alphabet that everyone knew, but the fact that some people don't know it makes it a lot worse, particularly if you're on a customer service call, and particularly if you're on a customer service call with someone who is not a native English speaker and who was not raised in the same cultural context that the NATO phonetic alphabet assumes.

If you, like me, love terrible quality PDFs, then some helpful soul made a FOIA request for "The Evolution and Rationale of ICAO Spelling Alphabet", and you can read it. This is a fun read for me, because it's not just concerned with the phonetic alphabet, but the history of it, and in one case they're just like "welp, we have been completely unsuccessful in locating this file". And I'm sitting here in 2024 reading a ratty PDF of a file from 1959, thinking "yup, that's how it is sometimes, they do all that work making a report and then no one fucking preserves it".

(Most of the document is about whether they would use the US-UK version or the ICAO version, and then some modifications and why they were made, and this is all interesting, but I'm kind of still scratching my head about some of these, especially given what they say the criteria were. "An international alphabet designed to fit the multilingual requirements of all nations"? Maybe they really thought that's what they were doing in the 1950s.)

Anyway, this isn't to say that I think we need a new, better phonetic alphabet, just that I think the current one is not actually the pinnacle of standards that some people seem to think it is, and in fact, it contains a lot of baggage from the time and place it was made. Further, it's being used in places well outside the environment it was made for, and unless everyone is trained in it (and maybe even if they are) some of the deficiencies get magnified.

[amiableness]

Elina’s 4k celebration ; Positivity Picnic <3

First off, thank you so much for 4k! I can't wrap my head around the fact that so many of you decided to follow me, and I can't say thank you enough for being here. Since most, if not all of you, are following me to read fics, I thought it would be fitting to find ways to spread love to other fanfic writers.

Just as fanfics are free, so is your interaction—and it means more than you know. To show your support, choose a few food items to bring to our picnic:

If you participate, let me know here! Or you can tag me in something <3

🍰 - Leave a comment on a fic you’ve enjoyed. I challenge you to comment what you loved specifically about it, it’s nice feedback for writers!

🥗 - Reblog a fic with a quote that you loved and why you loved it or how it made you feel

🍝 - Send an ask (anon or not!) and ask a writer a question about one of their works

🥧 - Make a fic reblog account to reblog all your favorites fics. This keeps all your favorite fics organized and means so much to writers!

🍓- Make a masterlist of all your favorite works. I promise you that it makes an authors day when they’re included on one of these lists!

🍒 - Send an ask to a writer about one of their works. These are my favorite to receive because then you can freak out over something together!

🥖 - Get creative with your reblogs! Add memes and/or tell them how their writing made you feel. Reblogs with allll your thoughts about the work is a writers love language!

🍯- Make a mood board for a fic! I’ve seen people in others fandoms make these for their favorite works, so if this is something you’re into, share it!

🥨 - Art of a scene or character from a fic! Same with mood boards, if you’re into it, it might be fun to share it with an author. I promise you that they’ll love it

Why we need interaction:

I’ve noticed so many fanfic writers feeling discouraged due to a lack of interaction with their works. At the same time, I’ve come across polls and anon asks where readers admit they don’t understand why interaction matters—or even find it annoying when writers ask for it. But here’s the thing: writers have every right to ask for interaction.

We spend hours working on every detail—perfecting lines, mapping out scenes, changing dialogue until it flows just right. It’s a lot of work and while we don’t get paid for it, those reblogs, comments, or asks? In an odd way, it’s almost like getting paid. The interaction is the reward for your hard work. And really, it means so much to know that someone took five minutes out of their day to share their thoughts after you’ve spent hours on a fic.

So, if you think interacting with fanfic is pointless or too much effort, maybe fanfiction isn’t for you.

The fanfic community is so much better with interaction. I’ve seen so many mutals leave over the years because of lack of interaction, so if you enjoy someone’s work, tell them. I know many of you have thought, “My comment or reblog won’t make a difference,” but you couldn’t be more wrong. It makes a huge impact.

Now that my rant is over, if you have any more ideas, let me know and I’ll add them! <3

[spirk-trek]

Hey so, it's me. The debbie-downer vaguing you in the spirk tag. I didn't mention you directly because my post wasn't directed at you, although it was made in response to checking some of your posts because I do have Unification in my filtered list (content and tag), so those fanworks? Behind a button, so my choice to look is all my own. (I didn't send the anon, though. That was someone else, sorry to say.) It sucks that that's how tumblr's system works but yay content filtering! Tumblr didn't always have that.

I didn't make that post to start drama, and I'm not the sort to get my kicks by being a contrarian for opposition's sake (like. I'm a Shatner fan. In a lot of online Star Trek spaces, I might as well say I hate K/S or Leonard Nimoy or kick puppies in my spare time, you know?), but I did make it in anger and for that I apologize. I should have waited longer on it to phrase things better or simply have deleted it from my drafts after typing it out. (But it's out there now and I'll live with it.)

I do understand where the joy of connecting the past to the present comes from (as a lot of your posts do with connecting old and new fanworks together), and that a lot of people are celebrating the Unification short as a culmination of 50+ years of K/S despite their initial separation according to the initial story, but for me (personally! I want to stress that. It's just me and my own opinion here), I keep seeing it as a valuing of what a company is finally offering fans rather than the celebration of fans who saw where K/S's story ended at the time, rejected that ending that was offered by the corporation, and made their own ending for K/S, without looking towards any official channels as a guide for their visions. That's what my post was about, where my anger was from, those questions--what becomes lost in fandom if we accept canon from the corporation that holds the copyright? What does it say if we look towards that same canon as being above what fandom has already envisioned? In a fandom as old as Star Trek's, one that laid so much groundwork that we take for granted, to overlook that worries me.

I suppose the biggest issue here is it's too similar, like a reflection in a mirror: on one side, Unification stands as the canonization of what the fandom has envisioned all along. It culminates. On the other, Unification appears as a bone tossed to finally appease fans who have seen K/S from the start and it feels too little, too late. Ironically enough, the short has seemingly managed to divide people, but it's too early to tell how lasting such a division could be.

Hopefully I've cleared the air by this. Unification clearly is not my cup of tea and I'm honestly not trying to ruin anyone's fun (most of my posts have gone untagged for a reason but I forget tumblr still parses for post content to index. Yikes. That post was tagged, though, because it was a snap decision made in anger and I wanted my thoughts to be seen). One could argue the short wasn't even made for me as I've long wondered if I will watch Generations because I've read the summary and didn't like it. But that's the joy of fandom and transformative works. We can look at the story and pick our favorite parts and rewrite the ones we don't like. If we didn't do that, fandom wouldn't exist, or it would but it wouldn't be as much fun.

Sorry for the essay in your inbox and for causing any confusion and hurt. I hope you've had a great day 💛

i'm not going to lie, it does hurt a little. i wasn't going to answer this publicly but i don't have the time today to have a private convo and i don't want you to think i deleted it or ignored it, so here we are.

i don't think unification made spirk any more canon than tmp did. i don't think the short was made with k/s in mind at all, even as a bone to toss starving shippers. star trek at large was never intended as a love story between them, but people have always seen it anyway. 

i'm conflicted about the use of nimoy's likeness too. despite that, i think that they did it as respectfully as they could have and involved the right people. it was a goodbye, not using him for a cheap cameo or advertising purposes (yes i know it was an "ad" like everything is, but it's not like spock holds up a coke at the end). you can disagree with me, and i understand your point of view. that's why i said i understood where that anon was coming from. 

what i see is william shatner and others taking a story that ended in a way that was disrespectful to both characters, one of which he himself has been playing for the majority of his life, and trying to fix that. it doesn't mean there's no corporate greed involved. both can be true. at least they posted it on youtube, they didn't premiere it or put it behind a paywall. it was just eight minutes, and less than a quarter of that had nimoy's face in it. my favorite part of the whole thing was seeing tos kirk meet his future selves. i love that even though they both die out of their times, they find each other in the end. 

i don't want to be an activist or defend or endorse anything, i just... 

those zines i tagged were 1) a poem by della van hise that was so accurate to the short that others were already reblogging it (i posted it weeks ago). i found it super interesting that she wrote a poem about them meeting again in death before tmp/wok even came out, let alone this short. 2) i was gushing about unification in the tags. 3) another poem about being side by side, which again, i found incredibly relevant. the other one i posted was because it went well with the others visually. it has nothing to do with unification other than the fact that spock is laying down. 

this has just made me sad tbh. i'm not angry and i love your analysis/fan work so much, so :( idk, i don't want anything i post to be divisive or disrespectful. i wasn't even worried about that before. i just really needed a win and maybe i clung to that a little too hard :/

[accirax]

Revisiting My Original DRDT Death Predictions

If you haven't been following what's going on over at @av-multifangan, Venus and I have been posting one of our fangans, Danganronpa: One Shot. Hooray! But, more relevantly to this post, we also posted the rules to a game that we've been playing for a long time-- a game through which you can score your performance at guessing how a fangan's kill order will go after viewing only its prologue.

Said old game was also invoked when we began watching DRDT, so I thought it would be a fun trip down memory lane to see what my genuine initial predictions for the entire killing game were after viewing just a little over an hour of Despair Time content.

While all of us non-cast-and-crew members obviously don't know the entire kill order at this point, I can rest assured that these predictions, well... ain't it. But, that's part of the point! To prove that even the creators of this predictions game can be terrible at it, and that there's no shame in making a guess and then changing your mind!

... Oh boy.

SPOILERS for DRDT through the end of Chapter 2, and IMPLIED SPOILERS for SDR2 and v3!

Well, no use in dilly-dallying. Here's my predictions sheet:

(god damn why is the quality so bad--)

If you haven't read the rules of our game, I'll quickly summarize them here. You have to predict the killing game using the most standard formula: one Chapter 1 victim and killer, one Chapter 2 victim and killer, double kill in Chapter 3 with one killer, one Chapter 4 victim and killer, one Chapter 5 victim and killer, and four survivors with a "surviving" (until Chapter 6) mastermind. These roles are listed out in rainbow order (Chapter 1 death = red, Chapter 6 = purple), and victims are marked with an X while killers are circled. The survivors are circled in purple, with a cyan star on the suspected mastermind.

At the end of the game, you gain points based on how far off you were, such that a low score is good. It's +2 points for getting the role wrong (victim vs killer/mastermind vs survivor), with an additional +1 point per chapter for how far you are off from the characters' last.

Although the quality is low, hopefully you can figure out what I predicted using those instructions-- or the image ID, if it's still too tricky. And, of course, I'm going to go through all of my choices below, starting with

XANDER in the role of CHAPTER 1 VICTIM

"Accirax," you may ask. "Why are you acting so doomed about your predictions when you literally got 1/4 of the confirmed deaths correct?" Unfortunately, my friend, I was already spoiled about Xander's death before I started watching DRDT. I'm very grateful that I had no idea about the circumstances of Xander's death (AKA, him stabbing Teruko) going in. But, I think I'd seen some thumbnail somewhere of Xander's BDA and knew he was a goner.

Hence, this was a free 0 pointer for me. I'm not that cool.

ARTURO in the role of CHAPTER 1 KILLER

Now, why I thought Arturo of all people would be the one to kill Xander is beyond me. I think my rationale was that, at the time, Arturo was giving me early death vibes, and this was the only spot I could put him in?*

This is one of the predictions that I know is wrong, because the Chapter 1 killer spot has already elapsed. The best I could do now points-wise is if Arturo is the Chapter 3 killer (I'd get +2 points for being two chapters off), which is definitely still feasible! Still, I wonder now if Arturo's vibe is too obvious for being a killer, and if he would ever be willing to put ~Julia Rosales'~ life in jeopardy by attempting to escape. J certainly isn't doing herself any favors with that Felicity reveal, at least.

ROSE in the role of CHAPTER 2 VICTIM

*This is where things get... a little complicated. As I already said, I had been spoiled to the fact that Xander was the Chapter 1 victim. However... I also thought I had been spoiled to the "fact" that Rose was the Chapter 2 victim?

I really don't know how this happened. I have a distinct memory of seeing a Tumblr post containing something that sort of looked like what I imagine an Ultimate Art Forger Lab could look like(?) talking about how the characters needed to investigate to figure out who killed the Ultimate it belonged to. I thought I remembered seeing Rose's face, but this was before I had ever watched any DRDT content. So, it's possible I had the wrong fangan, or accidentally stumbled into someone's AU.

It was pretty funny looking back on my Chapter 2 viewing experience, though. When Teruko got Rose's secret, I was like, "oh, it totally makes sense that DRDTdev would give Teruko Rose's secret as a natural way to hear about Rose's backstory before she dies. Clever." And then we got to the day of the motive reveal, and Rose is there, and David says that Arei of all people is missing, and my jaw dropped. "Spoilers," indeed.

It sucked for me at the time of making this sheet, though, because Rose was, like, the only woman I got survivor vibes from (other than Teruko). But, I thought I couldn't mark her as such! Of course, Rose could be a Chapter 3 victim for all I know, meaning that being "forced" to put her in this spot could actually be good for my predictions. However, scoring 0 points on Rose is fully off the table now, which is a bummer.

DAVID in the role of CHAPTER 2 KILLER

"Why couldn't you have put Arturo as Chapter 2 killer--" I also thought I had been spoiled that David was the Chapter 2 killer. If I didn't make Arturo the first killer, the earliest I could have put him would be Chapter 3 victim, which is hardly early at all. And yes, I thought I'd been spoiled on three out of "four" of the canonical deaths when I originally watched the series. That's just my life (/lh).

At least this one is obvious to figure out why I thought it was the case. I started watching DRDT in May of 2023, about a month and a half after 2-11 dropped. Hence, I knew DRDT was on hiatus, but I was under the impression that it was a hiatus after Chapter 2 had finished. I'd also seen 2-11's thumbnail, recognized it as David, and (along with having spoilers about David's "true personality") concluded that David must be the Chapter 2 killer.

Live footage of me watching 2-11 for the first time:

"Ah, there he goes... Man, we're gonna have to wrap this murder up quick, huh? I guess that's why he's admitting to it... Haha, 'Teruko, we fucked up'... WAIT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S A HIATUS ON AN UNSOLVED MURDER?!"

I decided quickly afterwards that I no longer believed that David would be the Chapter 2 killer.

Finally, we're done with roles that already happened/that I had "spoilers" for! You'd think that would automatically make them better (because most of them, at least, have not been disproven), but there are still plenty of things that contradict what I believe will happen now, at least.

LEVI and HU in the role of CHAPTER 3 VICTIMS

Relatively, though, this one isn't that bad. Don't get me wrong, these two aren't my leading candidates for Chapter 3 victims, but I'm not actively opposed to this happening.

The idea of Levi nearly evading dying at the end of Chapter 2 only to actually become a victim in Chapter 3 is a little puzzling, but still narratively on the table, imo. So much happens in a DRDT Chapter's worth of daily life that Levi could definitely still serve enough of a narrative purpose to justify his continued survival/eventual victimhood in that Chapter. Especially if that purpose had something to do with the fact that he was injured-- for instance, if it's important for an Arturo arc of learning that he actually enjoys taking care of others, or if the killer has to exploit Levi's injuries in order to have the strength necessary to take him out.

Meanwhile, I've long held the opinion that Hu will be a big character in the Chapter 3 Daily Life by virtue of not having done a whole lot in the Chapter 1 or 2 Daily Lives-- she definitely has content, but the majority of the important stuff occurs in the Chapter 2 Trial. Currently, I'm of the opinion that that spike of content wouldn't result in a same-Chapter death, but following in the footsteps of Xander and Arei, it definitely could. Same with Levi if he's a Chapter 3 focus, honestly.

J in the role of CHAPTER 3 KILLER

I really still want to believe that J will be a killer. Why? It's because, in my opinion, Ultimate Effects Artist is a talent that is totally optimized for being a blackened, whether it actually happens or not. You know why the idea of J and Arei swapping places was so popular? Because Ultimate Effects Artist is the kind of talent you give someone if you want to pull a trick like that off!

However, all of that "murder is despicable" talk is really cramping my style. Why would J ever become a blackened after opposing the idea of murder so openly?

(It'd be pretty funny if it was all an act so that people would use that as an argument to her credit down the road.)

It's possible she could have a crisis of faith/breaking point that would change her mind, but I doubt that would occur as quickly as Chapter 3. Or result in her killing two people. Sigh.

AREI in the role of CHAPTER 4 VICTIM and EDEN in the role of CHAPTER 4 KILLER

OKAY HEAR ME OUT BEFORE YOU ACCUSE ME OF CALLING EDEN EVIL--

Chapter 4 is, oftentimes, the sacrifice chapter, right? It's a killer that makes everybody cry, because they'd never normally do something like this, but ultimately decided to kill in order to spare their friends and take the bullet themselves. I'm, like, 99% sure that's what I was imagining for Eden. Whatever the motive may be, Eden would be the small and scrawny sacrifice killer in sort of a reversal of the buff curse...

... taking out the mean bully girl that everybody hated as the victim, if she had to choose someone.

I'M SORRY I'M SORRY STOP HITTING ME WITH ROCKS-- (/j)

But yeah, I definitely remember predicting that part of the surprise of the case was that the small nerdy girl was able to take out the Ultimate athlete mean girl. I don't know how I managed to deduce that Eden and Arei would have an important relationship with one another after the prologue (in which they don't really talk at all, to my memory), yet managed to get it so horribly wrong. Predicting that Eden would kill Arei was just in my DNA, I guess, even if I originally envisioned it for a different chapter.

In the light of Ace being declared the Chapter 2 killer, this one is just embarrassingly wrong. Evidently, Eden would never stoop as low as to kill Arei. The good news for me, I suppose, is that Arei will only net me +2 points, as the role was correct (V=V) while the chapter was 2 off (4->2).

As for Eden being the Chapter 4 killer, that's not one of my top spots for her. If I had to pick, I'd probably guess either Chapter 3 victim (especially if paired with Charles Ch3 Victim, this could really knock the wind out of Teruko's sails if needed), Chapter 5 victim (allows her a long period in the story that isn't a survivor nor a killer), or just a survivor (and/or mastermind). If she were to be a killer, then maybe I'd predict Chapter 4 along the sacrifice angle? Not with Arei, though.

MIN in the role of CHAPTER 5 VICTIM

+6 points (5->1) (V->K) on Min is... not the greatest score. In fact, it's only one fewer than the general max possible character score of 7, reserved for Chapter 1 deaths mistaken as Survivors and vice versa.

I think my original prediction for Min was that she would not necessarily be Teruko's support character emotionally, but that she would be a useful aide when it came to solving the mysteries of the Class Trial. Then in Chapter 5, to force Teruko/the other innocent students to solve the high-stakes Trial on their own, she would have to disappear.

Looking back on it, I really enjoy how Teruko is far and away the best at solving the Class Trials in DRDT-- she would have already earned the title through her connections to, like, literally every character and theme in the story, but making her the principal mystery solver really hammers the idea that she should be the protagonist home. Having Min be on Team Spotless for even one Trial might have diminished that effect, so it makes sense that she became the first blackened. Girl was too powerful to live, smh.

WHIT in the role of CHAPTER 5 KILLER

Personally, I've always gotten the vibe that Whit is one of DRDTdev's Special Little Guys. Perhaps it was the way that he showed up in three character introductions-- Charles', Hu's, and his own-- that made me think he had Favorite Character Privileges. As such, even when (get ready for a truth bomb) I didn't really like Whit after watching the Prologue for the first time, I always thought he had late game energy.

(I don't know how much it really comes across from my blog, but I'm actually fairly critical of new series when I pick them up for the first time, unless I've heard many positive recommendations from friends/online personalities I admire. Other than the spoilers, I hadn't heard too much about DRDT before I started watching it, so, unaware of DRDTdev's writing skills, I was worried that Whit would essentially be a poor man's Kokichi. As someone who really likes Kokichi, that biased me against Whit. Then, of course, I actually watched the series and Whit won me over very quickly. And the rest is history :) )

I’m not really sure why I went killer over victim, other than the possible “I’m making Min the victim and therefore Whit has to be the killer.” Maybe it was that Kokichi-ness that made me think that he'd be the man behind the slaughter? ... Even if Kokichi wasn't actually the blackened in that case? It might've also been an effect of wanting him to be just that much closer to surviving, to fully break the hearts of everyone who was rooting for this Special Little Guy to survive.

Like, uh... me. Um. Well, I do genuinely currently think Whit will survive right now, so... I'm willing to take a +3 if that's true!

TERUKO in the role of MASTERMIND

Yeah, I predicted that Teruko would be the mastermind because I'm a basic bitch (/aff). Uh, I'm not being affectionate towards myself, to be clear. I'm only being affectionate to those who still hold the (fairly, I think) popular opinion that Teruko will be the mastermind of DRDT. She's a popular choice because there's a lot going for her! I still ranked her as third most likely back in my mastermind analysis!

Everyone who plays Venus' and my game is forced into the same default formula (to make comparative scoring easier), and that formula locks in the protagonist as a Chapter 6-er, because of how frequently that is the case. Even so, I feel fairly confident now that Teruko will survive until Chapter 6 anyways. The more times she says "I'm the Ultimate Lucky Student and I can't die" and then doesn't die, the weirder it would be if she suddenly did drop dead in, like, Chapter 4.

As for whether she actually is the mastermind... dude, I have no idea. Back at the time I wrote that post, I named J and Rose as my most likely candidates, but now J has gone on a whole anti-murder bend and I'm growing increasingly worried that Rose is going to be the Chapter 3 killer (probably unfounded, but still). That would leave Teruko as the most likely option, but Teruko's behavior at the end of Chapter 2 felt anti-mastermind coded to me, too, even if she forgot about it...!

We are not reviewing my mastermind theories here and now. Next!

CHARLES in the role of SURVIVOR

If you're a giant fucking nerd (/j), you might have noticed that I said I made my DRDT predictions after viewing "just a little bit over an hour of Despair Time content." However, the Prologue is under an hour. What gives?

Well, I... broke the rules of our game, actually. You're supposed to make your predictions sheet after viewing the Prologue only, but I went straight from watching the Prologue into Chapter 1 on the same day, and I forgot to make my sheet until watching Chapter 1 Episode 1. Sue me.

At any rate, I'm sure you can figure out how watching 1-1 would make me think that Charles would survive. Obviously, I knew that other characters beyond Charles would get focus in later episodes, but that still doesn't change the fact that DRDTdev chose to highlight Charles and Teruko's relationship as the first thing we saw in the first chapter of their story. Even without that extra content, though, he's also very reminiscent of Danganronpa's "Jerk" archetype, which survived in every canon DR game.

All that said... obviously, I don't think he's going to survive anymore.

I've been saying that Charles is a Chapter 3 victim-- at least since that analysis I just linked, even-- and I will probably continue to say it until proven false by the story itself. He is simply arcing too fast, and Whit needs to be confronted with that grief he prefers to ignore, no matter what his eventual placement is. We got one real Trial with Charles to prove what a smarty-pants he is, but now that he's pulled that "out of your element" card, he's off to break down into two or more simpler substances. AKA, decompose.

If he's not a Chapter 3 victim, though, Survivor is at least back on the table.

ACE in the role of SURVIVOR

Here we have it! Proof positive that I (falsely) believed that Ace would be a survivor all on my own, without taking into account anyone else's opinions! My incorrectness is mine and mine alone!!! (/j)

So, yeah. Funny coward man go brrrr and character arc into survival, except then he didn't. I have to imagine that's the basic premise behind why so many people believed that Ace would survive. I don't really have much to say about this choice beyond that.

I don't like that I'm already tanking another +6 points (S->K) (6->2) from Ace, though. Save me Xander-zero-point spoilers, you're my only hope.

VERONIKA in the role of SURVIVOR

Whaaaaaaaat was I cooking here?

I guess I kind of remember. I think I was imagining Veronika along the lines of a poor man's Sonia (like I said, critical) due to her more apologetic attitude towards rambling and presenting others with horror concepts in the Prologue. With my prediction that Whit would die in Chapter 5, I guess I might've also been thinking that Veronika could then fill in that "comic relief" void in his absence? I also had Ace there, though. Moot point; every DRDT character has the capacity to be hilarious.

There are a lot of places I could see Veronika landing in this killing game, but survivor really isn't one of them. I could see Veronika as a Chapter 3 victim or killer for The Vibes, Chapter 5 victim or killer if she takes on more of a main antagonist role, or Mastermind also for The Vibes. But survivor is just... odd. At least from this point in the story, what business does the "fangirling over acevi dying" girl have taking up one of those coveted survivor slots? Surely either someone would think to kill her or she would decide to kill before four more chapters elapse!

That being said, locking in Veronika as a late game character isn't terrible in my eyes. Being "barred" from making Rose a survivor, I remember that Veronika was the girl who I initially got the second most late game energy from. Those Chapter 5 or Mastermind scenarios won't score terribly here if they come to pass.

NICO in the role of SURVIVOR

I want to mention here that, despite my other spoilers, I did not know that Nico was nonbinary going into Despair Time. Therefore, I didn't make Nico a survivor under the premise of "I'll have two girls, two boys, and one enby survive!" I don't really remember why I did make Nico a survivor, though.

My best guess is that I put them there for cast composition purposes. From the Prologue, all of Charles, Ace, and Veronika are pretty over-the-top in their own ways: Charles is overly condescending, Ace is really loud, and Veronika is an exaggerated fangirl. Adding in a quieter character like Nico would have been a nice way balance to the others... or at least, so I thought with only the Prologue to go off of. Now I know that Ace and Nico surviving together was incredibly unlikely to be the case.

Speaking of Ace, now that he's dead (and therefore can't be a survivor), my opinions of whether Nico could survive have definitely gone up. However, I still don't think that Nico surviving is particularly likely.

There's definitely potential for redemptive survivors in DRDT with the "fighting your fate" theme they seem to be setting up. But, I think that's more likely to play out with someone who might have committed murder before the killing game (like Levi) or someone who did terrible things, but never went so far as to physically attempt another student's murder (like David), than someone who actually attacked someone else and nearly succeeded. For media in general, I think it's much easier for audiences to forgive something that happened off-screen and/or to characters that barely exist than something that we saw visible evidence of on a character who many people adore. Nico's attempted murder just seems like a big hurdle to overcome on their path to survival, dude.

That being said, I've written before that for both in-universe and meta reasons, I don't think we'll ever see Nico as a blackened, which already eliminates, like, half of my options moving forward. Logically, that would conclude that if I don't think that Nico will become a victim, then they're likely to survive. I do (currently) think that Nico will probably be a victim sometime in the future, even if I'm not certain in which chapter. For the sake of my score on Nico specifically, I guess I'm rooting for Chapter 5. I already know that they wouldn't be robbing Min of a perfect zero, at least.

And that's my tally so far, a total of 14 points out of a possible... well, I actually don't know what the highest possible score is, both because math is hard and because I don't know what bonus rules, if any, will come into play in DRDT's future. It's 14 points across 4 characters, which comes out to an average of 3.5 points per character.

Comparatively, most of our game sheets have come out somewhere in the high-30 to mid-40 points range (predicting is hard). Across 16 characters, means that it's usually an average of, like, 3 points per character. So, I'm doing worse than usual, but not by a whole lot...!

But, how well I do isn't what matters. The important thing is that I had fun while making it, and got to think about what patterns and possibilities can arise when you look at the basic facts of a character's simplified personality and talent in time with their role in the story!

So if you want to have fun making a predictions sheet like this of your own, you should totally go read Danganronpa: One Shot's Prologue (before Chapter 1 starts airing on Friday) over at @av-multifangan and fill out that game's prediction sheet. That would mean that this shameful shameless attempt at cross-promotion would have succeeded at one of its desired effects! Or, if that's not your cup of tea, you could also fill out a predictions sheet for DRDT moving forward, and just acknowledge that Xander, Min, Arei, and Ace were placed after the fact. Who knows, maybe I'll make a sheet like that too, so we can compare.

Thanks for walking down memory lane with me, and I hope to be back with more DRDT content soon!

[fragilefirstchance]

I actually have thoughts about this! I think Ford is a specific type of character.

First of all: Let's talk about fanon!

Something I think that a lot of us forget when we're doing fan analysis is just how caricaturized all blorbos are in canon. This is true of any work of media: the characters aren't real people, they're figments who only exist as we see them on-screen.

Fanon is kind of like those AI image sharpeners that take a blurred photo and make it look like a person's face: yeah, technically that is an accurate way you can interpret the blur, but there are hundreds of faces that would be just as accurate, and not only are they all very different from each other, they don't even agree on the most basic and obvious traits. The same blurry headshot could be a scowling white woman with a square jaw or a smiling black man with sharp features. In a similar way, when we see a character become stressed because they just saw a mouse in a cage, we could say they're scared of mice, or morally opposed to pets, or that they have cage-based trauma - any option that works is plausible.

I think that there are characters who are good characters, characters who are uniquely good subjects for fanon, and a ven diagram between the two. For example, a lot of kids' shows from the nineties are bad, but they managed to produce a really fun and rich fandom. Meanwhile, some really beautiful and culturally important stories don't leave a lot of room for fan works because they've already said what they need to say. I think the absolute best works for fandom are the ones that are objectively good stories, but have really simplified characters: Undertale might be the best example of this, because every single character suggests a rich and beautiful personality while only being on screen for a relatively short time.

So that leads me to part two: Ford!

I think Ford fills a particular fandom niche that was empty for a lot of us.

He's extremely traumatized, and the more we learn about him, the more traumatized he is. He's kind of pushing the limits of what's acceptable from a kids' show, to be honest.

He canonically has a lot of difficulty making friends; this is partly because he's quirky and seemingly neurodivergent, but partly because he has poor social skills. He's not a cartoony, Eeyore-style "has trouble making friends but we love him anyway" character, either; there are tangible, in-story examples of him failing to make friends.

He behaves badly sometimes. This is actually my favorite trait of his - anyone who reads my fanfiction knows how much I love giving people with real flaws a chance to find love and be treated with respect. Most characters have a flaw to overcome, but in his worst moments, Ford actually lashes out and hurts others in a tangible way and not just a child-friendly way. Showrunners don't always like to show that sort of thing.

It is very, very easy to read some severe mental health symptoms into his behavior. Bill is a literal character, but he's also a pretty good metaphor: you can use him to explain hallucinations, dissociative fugues, sudden mood swings, manic episodes, severe depression, paranoia - the list goes on and on.

(That last one is really important. There's a pretty damn big difference between a good metaphor for mental illness and a thoughtful portrayal of that mental illness in a story. It's kind of like how many of us were so starved for queer representation growing up that we read queer metaphors into everything. Well, there still isn't good mental illness representation in most media, so we'll take the metaphors we can get. Ford is a really good metaphor even as he's presented, and there are a lot of holes in his narrative where personality disorder symptoms, manic episodes, delusions, etc. can slot in easily.)

None of those traits make a good Disney character. They only really work because he spends so little time on-screen; the books were only possible because of Gravity Falls's massive commercial success. So, he's a very rare example of a character who's from a light-hearted, positive, optimistic show aimed at children, but who has all of the template features necessary for us to read him as deeply broken in some ways that aren't sanitized or socially acceptable.

So, there are dozens and dozens of Ford AUs in which we project very specific experiences, traumas, and symptom sets into this one man.

How many Ford AUs out there are reflections of our own insecurities, traumas, and just general unresolved issues? Is that, like, his whole purpose in the wider multiverse of alternate Gravity Falls characters? 'Cause I KNOW it isn't just me

[dreamsofbroflovski]

Gunslinger!Kyle Broflovski x Reader - lovin' what your lovin' does to me

Also available on ao3!

Summary: You and your partner, Kyle Broflovski, are both gunslingers, roaming the United States on horseback looking for fights to pick and bounties to collect. But when the promise of a better life becomes clearer on your horizon, can you really go for it, change everything you know and take roots for the first time in your life? You find out in the best way possible.

Warnings: Wild West AU, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Mating Press, Breeding, Impregnation, Mentions of Pregnancy, Period-Typical Sexism

A/N: There it is. My however-many-thousand-words-long tribute to one of my favourite gingers.

Fun fact, I'm actually as childfree as they go. Got a whole list in my brain of reasons why I really shouldn't have kids. However, if a certain ginger jew from Jersey knocked at my door asking me to be the mother of his babies, I'd just ask "how many?" and get right to fucking work on that.

If some parts of it sound weird, I really did write this instead of sleeping because I wanted it up ASAP and it's crazy.

“Look alive, my dear. We’ve arrived.”

I was jolted out of my thoughts by the gentle voice of my partner.

It was nearing the middle of summer and I was really feeling the dog days. The sun showed me no mercy as it tried to set ablaze what little skin I had showing to the world, which was basically just my unprotected arms. I had been on horseback since dawn without even mentioning a break, and hadn’t exactly considered that the weather at 4am, before sunrise, might’ve been slightly different from what I was currently experiencing now that the sun was at its peak in the sky.

I guess the only salvation when it came to my foolishness was that I wasn’t alone in it. As I turned to the man at my side, matching my horse’s slow speed on his own mount, I saw him wipe some sweat off of his face with the green bandana he kept tied to his neck - being tortured by the heat even more than me, inside of his heavy leather coat.

My partner. My lover, Kyle Broflovski. Notorious gun-for-hire, same as I. We had met many years ago, when he and I were both just seventeen - but life had already taken its toll on the both of us, leaving nothing except two jaded young adults with very little to lose. By then we were already gunslingers, I was here and there committing petty thefts while he worked as a watchman for some merchant in the region. I took his side in a saloon fight that turned into a huge shootout - not proud to say a huge part of its escalation was his fault, but well, at least we won - and the thrill of going through a life-or-death situation together might’ve created a bond between us right at that moment, because from then on we rarely left each other’s side.

We started out merely as colleagues, but feelings quickly grew, and how wouldn’t they? He was handsome, intelligent, kind, honorable and great in bed. Everything a woman would want, if she ignored the ‘outlaw’ part, which I wouldn’t and didn’t even want to. Now, eight or nine years later, we still roamed this godforsaken country together - making money by offering protection services to basically anyone who needed bodyguards or an extra pair of shooters defending their property, and also by tracking wanted criminals and delivering their filthy bodies to the law enforcers looking for them; sometimes living, sometimes dead. Sometimes it felt like he kind of preferred it as the latter.

But as he looked back at me and I allowed myself to get lost in his shining eyes and jovial smile, it dawned on me that, at least for now, that was gone. We were on vacation, so to speak. For the last couple of weeks we had been on the road almost non-stop, all so that we could make it to our destination as quickly as possible. 

Today’s leg of the trip had been rather quiet, save for the occasional snorting of one of our horses, but I liked it that way. After so many years with Kyle, I had come to enjoy even those moments of silence: we talked so much every single day, but even when we didn’t say anything I still felt comfort in just being by his side.

Plus, it had been the first time in a while that we managed to just not have to say anything. For the last year or so, we hadn’t been running by ourselves, instead making use of the connection and safety of a small group with other outlaws. Life with them was decent - we didn’t exactly love each other or keep any type of code, but we’d help wherever we could to make sure everyone’s lives were running smoothly. But it was very clear that my true loyalty was only to Kyle, and his to me. 

So, when about nine months in he started to become visibly bothered and complain more, unhappy about having to set up shelter right next to people he didn’t exactly trust, we started planning our exit. We were used to it just being the two of us anyway, so there were no worries, we just had to plan the exit in a way that wouldn’t create a fuss. The opportunity came in the best way possible - a few weeks after our first talk of leaving, Kyle picked up at the post office a letter from his best friend, Stan Marsh, inviting us to go to his farm just one or two states away for a few days' stay. We left camp at night, after everyone was already asleep, and set out on this trip to meet up with the people we were most likely to actually consider family.

Kyle and Stan had known each other since before even being born, one could say. Randy Marsh and Gerald Broflovski were very close friends as children, though they followed very different paths in life: while my partner’s father took to the books and became a lawyer, the Marsh patriarch bought a plot of land not too far from the small mountain town where they lived and built a small but sturdy farm, which expanded over the years and made decent money. It was called Tegridy - apparently, it was supposed to be “Integrity”, a word Mr. Broflovski taught Mr. Marsh, but the latter didn’t really know how to write it; and, by the time he finally learned, it was already too late and the whole region already knew it by the wrong name, so it stuck.

And that’s how Kyle and Stan grew up: kept close as can be from the very start. Mr. Broflovski would take his family to the farmstead whenever he found a little free time and the boys spent their afternoons playing in the open fields, fishing in the stream nearby and helping Mr. Marsh with tasks around the farm once they became old enough. They saw each other turn from dim-witted boys to respectable young men, and the world seemed infinite for them, bright-eyed adolescents who could experience all the great things life had to offer without shouldering any of its burdens.

Unfortunately, just a few weeks before Kyle turned sixteen, his whole family was taken from him in a violent gang attack, caught in an ambush on the wagon they were riding while coming back from a trip, stripped of every valuable they had on hand and then shot dead. My partner wasn’t present at the time of the crime, so he was spared - something that he struggled with the guilt of for many years, and that was his primary motivation for becoming a vigilante: going after criminals just like those who wronged his family, to take them to justice and, more importantly, making sure their sentences were served. 

When Kyle showed up at Stan’s doorstep for what would be his last conversation as a man without blood in his hands, it took a lot of arguing and convincing from Kyle for his friend to not immediately pack his bags, saddle up and ride alongside him. Stan eventually relented, settled for receiving Kyle’s letters and some rare visits, took over the farm and married a lovely young woman named Wendy Testaburger.

A lovely young woman who, turns out, hated Kyle and I’s guts fiercely. She came from a well-off household and left a comfortable life to be with Stan, so I guess having a pair of shabby gunslingers as the closest friends of her new family didn’t sit right with how she was raised. It also didn’t help that, every time we were around, Stan would drop everything he was doing and stick to us like a tick to a dog’s fur, asking Kyle non-stop about everything we were up to and making us fill him in on every single chase and shootout and bounty delivered, without leaving any stone unturned. His interest in the life was very noticeable, even if he tried to deny it during the multiple arguments we heard him have with Wendy when they thought we were sleeping. The new Mrs. Marsh was absolutely terrified that our constant presence would have a bigger impact on him the longer we stayed, and that someday our wicked ways would win Stan over and he’d ride off into the sunset with us and make her a widow - or, worse in her mind, a divorcée.

Her worries only waned after a particularly long stretch of time we spent at their place. Kyle had gotten badly injured in a shootout against one of our bounties - and, although my quick thinking managed to stabilize the situation to where he was no longer in danger, we still needed to lay low for a while as he healed, and sleeping on the dirt in tents moving from place to place was not it. So I found ourselves a wagon and showed up unannounced to the Marsh residence with Kyle and all of our belongings loaded on it. 

My guess is seeing the dangers of the job in real time and how precarious our day-to-day life really was had been a wake-up call to Stan, since after that his begging for me and Kyle to retell our epic stories had diminished considerably. With this, Wendy was finally able to rest assured that she’d keep her husband, and she was willing to get to know us better and have actual positive interactions. At least something good came out of that whole mess - to this day, Kyle’s left shoulder didn’t work as good as it used to, and he still felt this overwhelming pain at random times.

That is all to say the four of us had a very strong bond forged through years of experiences together, delights and torments shared - a bond that would never waiver even when Kyle and I were on the other side of the country cleaning up the trash and delivering bounties around the most different jurisdictions. So, when we received that letter with Stan and Wendy scolding us because we hadn’t seen them since before the lady got pregnant with their fourth and urging us to come back to Colorado for she was now on the last leg of that pregnancy, we figured it was the least we could do to pack our stuff and ride to Tegridy Farm to spend a few weeks with the Marsh family, helping wherever they needed to make sure that these last couple of days, or the few right after childbirth, would go as smoothly as possible.

It had been about two or three weeks that we had been on the road now and we were finally at our destination. To my side, the very familiar farm spanned across the land, its decent area determined by some flimsy wooden fences in need of fixing. The structures and inside the boundaries of the fence for the most part didn’t match its state of neglect; the cultivation fields with the seasonal crops were well-kempt, the stables and barn had a regular repair schedule, and the main house - the crown jewel of the property - stood elegant in the middle of it all, always clean and pristine courtesy of Wendy’s presence. The only other thing that might’ve seemed neglected in the farm was but a shadow behind the main building - the old house where Stan had lived during his childhood, which hadn’t been inhabited since his mother died, but that he also didn’t seem to have the courage or time to take down completely. 

As we crossed the wooden gateways and made our way inside the farm, the first member of the Marsh family to notice our arrival was actually their elderly chubby dog, Sparky. Stan originally bought him as a puppy to train so he would protect the animals and the land from intruders, but he quickly realized that this dog was a huge wimp and just wanted to play all day, promptly fleeing whenever he sensed danger. However, everyone had already taken a liking to the tiny fellow by then, so he became Wendy and Stan’s personal companion, sleeping inside of the main house and growing up alongside the kids as their pet. When he saw the outlines of us on top of our mounts riding towards the building, he started barking happily and ran as fast as his legs could take him, making a turn when he got to our horses and matching their pace alongside Kyle’s.

His barking must’ve alerted the other members of the household, since not long after he started, we noticed Stan getting up off his chair on the porch. “And look who’s finally here!” He announced as he walked towards us with open arms and, not long after, we saw Wendy’s smiling face appear in one of the second-story windows, her hand waving excitedly out of it as we approached in our steeds.

“Oh, come on, we didn’t take that long.” Though he had essentially just been scolded, Kyle had a glowing smile on his face. Just this moment made almost all the tiring parts of travel worth it, to see how glad my partner would get to see his brother after so long and realize that nothing had changed. To have those moments of his youth back, even if for just a short stay.

“Almost a whole year, Kyle!” Stan retorted, slapping the side of his friend’s arm with his raised hand. “Wait a little more and you might as well have come for the kid’s wedding by then.”

Our mounts slowed to a stop as we reached the front porch, and we heard the thundering noise of several footsteps bolting down the stairs inside. Before we could even dismount, the smiling faces of Stan’s two eldest children - a boy and a girl - ran towards our horses, shouting excitedly and asking questions too quickly and with too high-pitched voices for me to even begin answering them.

“Easy now, children.” A much more soft and pleasant voice managed to be picked up by my ears among the ruckus, and my eyes darted towards the door immediately. Wendy Marsh stood by the doorway, her current youngest child - just shy of two years, if I had my math right - hiding behind her legs. My best friend had one of her hands resting on top of her belly, bump visible even under the loose-fitting maternity dress she wore, and I felt the guilt strike at me on sight; It had been too long since we last saw these two, she had gone through all those changes to her body and mind across multiple months, while I was off somewhere shooting people. I felt like an awful friend.

And then she did something that reminded me exactly how she was more than capable of handling this situation by herself. “YOU DARNED LITTLE RASCALS! SHUT UP THIS INSTANT AND LET YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE SPEAK!” This bellowing, infuriated version of Wendy’s voice had the kids fixing their postures and closing their mouths in an instant, not even daring to breathe loudly anymore, and they gave us one last glance before sprinting back quickly inside the house. The toddler followed suit, waddling after its siblings as fast as its tiny legs could carry it.

With the coast now clear, Kyle quickly slid off of his horse, in a swift movement that only comes with years of doing that multiple times a day. I stayed on top of mine, however, and right after dismounting Kyle made his way to the side of my steed, raising his arms towards me. I turned my whole body to his side and let Kyle take hold of my waist, lifting me off the saddle and putting me on the ground with ease. I was more than perfectly capable of getting out on my own, I had as much experience with this as he did - but this was something he fancied doing, he wanted to be a gentleman whenever he could and there weren’t many opportunities in our daily life for him to fill that role, so he loved to have that little moment and I learned to appreciate it. Plus, he’d get fussy if I didn’t let him do it, so I humored him every single time.

“C’mon, Wends, no need for that,” I turned to her as my boots hit the dirt, “Stan’s right, it’s been so long. They’re kids, they’re just happy to see us.”

“Well, but they’re not giving you a hug before I do!” And she didn’t have to wait any longer, wrapping her arms tightly around me as soon as Kyle let go of my waist and moved his body out of the way. I hugged her back carefully, trying not to put any pressure on her belly, something that she didn’t seem a lick concerned about but kind of worried me a little bit. I heard my partner’s boots kicking the pebbles beneath its soles as he power walked towards Stan to give him a hug as well - although in their case it was more of a side hug, slapping the palm of their hands against the other’s backs amidst laughter. The type of salute men usually shared, not as tender as the displays of friendship between us women, but just as heartfelt. 

After a minute or two like this, Wendy let go of me and gave me one last warm smile before going over to Kyle and giving him a quick hug, and I took the opportunity to do the same to Stan. Even if we weren’t as close as him and Kyle, he was still like family to me. We didn’t linger on the greeting, though; My best friend could get quite possessive when other women were near her man, even if it was just me, and I wasn’t gonna make that lady angry if I could avoid it. 

I swiftly took my spot next to Kyle again, and Wendy did the same near Stan.  “You’re looking gorgeous, Wends,” I stated with a smile. “Really glowing!”

“(Y/N)’s right. Baby number four, too! Stan, you must be proud!” Kyle stretched his arm out and placed his hand on Stan’s shoulder, shaking him teasingly. Stan just laughed and shoved his friend’s hand away from him, but when he straightened his stance again, his chest seemed a little more out than usual and his chin a little more high up. With his pride visible like this, I couldn’t help but be reminded of a rooster, or a peacock with its feathers all spread out.

“Thank you so much, you two. You’re really sweet,” Wendy wrapped her arms around her husband, hugging him from the side, face as happy as could possibly be - but then those smiles turned into a pout. “But don’t think being sweet is going to redeem you! You’ve barely written to us these months! We’ve been worried sick!” 

“Good thing we’re here now to tell you all about what we didn’t write,” Kyle said as he walked back near our steeds. ”Just let me hitch the horses somewhere out of the sun. I won’t be long.”

“No need.” Before we could take action, Stan quickly put two fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly, catching the attention of a nearby farmhand passing through, who stopped in his tracks and beelined to us. It was a young man, couldn’t be older than eighteen, with tanned skin from the hours under the sun, strong arms and a serious expression. “Oi, Milton. Take these horses here, lead them to the stables with the others and give them some water. Ah, and make sure they’re fed, they’ve been hours on the road.”

Milton gave a quick nod and took our horses by the reins, leading them slowly towards a big building to the left of the house. We followed him with our eyes for a couple of seconds, in silence. “Well, anyway, let’s take this conversation inside as well,” Wendy suggested, gesturing with her arm towards the house, her expression softening. “I’m sure y’all don’t want to wait out in this sun any more than the horses did.”

And she was damn right. We excused ourselves in and went through the doorway, sighing in relief as we found ourselves in the shade at last. “No issues on the travel, I assume?” She asked with a smile as Kyle took his hat off and put it in the hanger next to Stan’s.

“Just a tiny quarrel with the sheriff last town back, nothin’ major.” It had actually been a little bit more than that, but we didn’t want to worry our friends. The sheriff, an extremely unpleasant fellow who spent more of his time harassing the local ‘working girls’ than actually doing his job, seemed to have a real problem when people who actually wanted to stop crime came along. So, when we showed up to the town with a local thief tied up on the back of Kyle’s horse - captured in an extremely convenient encounter nearby - the so-called law enforcer decided we were ‘trying to come for his position’ and threw the tantrum of a lifetime looking for any reason to have us arrested. Luckily no guns were drawn, we left as quickly as we arrived, but the stress of the whole situation still stuck to us for a couple miles after that.

“Fuuuuck, I hate that feller. Please tell me you beat his ass.” Though Stan apparently had tried to make his dislike of the sheriff known only to Kyle, he did so in a rather loud tone, which made us all turn to him. “Short fat motherfucker loves to pull on my dick whenever I’m in town for anything. Pisses Wendy off, too. Damn failed abortion is what he is.”

“Language, Stanley!” Wendy chided, glaring at him. We heard a couple of giggles, quickly suppressed, and I turned my face upwards - on the second floor, leaning on the balustrade near the staircase, the children gathered, looking down at us and listening in on our conversation.

Kyle and I could only bend over ourselves laughing as the heavily pregnant Wendy chased upstairs, going after her much faster children to try and give them a thorough scolding as they yelled out their brand new vocabulary, while Stan made sure to quickly leave the scene so as to make it harder for himself to be next.

Oh to live this life on the daily.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The rest of the afternoon went by without any issues. Kyle and I managed to take our first proper bath in days, which was extremely appreciated, and then our attention was almost immediately snatched by the Marsh children. My guess was they didn’t get many visitors on the farm, at least not many that were interested in hearing what small kids have to say, so now that they had people to talk to they were sure to teach us all the new things they had learned and play lots of different games with uncle and auntie.

With evening approaching, Wendy prepared some roast beef with mashed potatoes and fried red tomatoes with garlic, along with a whole apple pie for dessert - under the pretext that since guests were over they had the obligation of making more food to be sure we wouldn’t starve, and maybe spend a little more on the process. She knew Kyle and I would be fine with whatever she prepared, her cooking was so good she could probably boil tree bark on her stove and make it the best meal we ever had, so I knew the sizeable dinner was more a satisfaction of her pregnant whims. We all ate until we almost couldn’t fit in our pants anymore, and after the couple put their kids to bed, Stan brought out a nicer wine and we chatted our more mature matters well into the night. 

After a while, Stan and Kyle decided to go out for a smoke and a night walk around the property, leaving me and Wendy to clean up the dinner mess so that we could ‘talk about our feminine issues’, whatever that meant. So we picked up the dirty tableware and took everything to the kitchen, where she had previously set up two buckets - one with warm water and soap, one with clean water - for the dishes.

After we set everything on the counter and she tried taking another step going for the filled buckets, I immediately put my body in front of her, blocking her next steps. “No no no, little mama!”, I declared, putting both my hands on Wendy’s shoulders and pushing her slowly towards the smaller table in the kitchen, which they used for breakfast. “You’ve already done too much today and been on your feet all this time. Now it’s my turn.”

She tried huffing, stomping her foot and going around me, but my grip on her shoulders was strong enough that she couldn’t, so she bitterly relented and took a seat on one of the flimsy brown chairs near the table. “I’m pregnant, not disabled”, I heard her snort behind my back as I finally let go of her and turned towards the pile of dirty dishes.

“I know, I know,” was my reply while I picked up the first dirty plate and dunked it into the soapy water. “But you made this whole dinner for us and it was delicious, Wends. Lemme do this for you, will ya?”

“You helped with the fried tomatoes,” she retorted.

“Sure, but I’m not the one with a whole baby inside me.”

She giggled. “Not yet.”

My hand stopped in the air halfway through grabbing a dirty wine glass. “Come again?” I inquired as I turned to her with raised eyebrows.

“You tell me, (Y/N)! Ever since before I met you you’ve been running from place to place shooting people for money. Don’t you think it’s time you and Kyle settled down, bought a house somewhere? Maybe you two could even get married and finally stop living in sin.”

Her comment had me rolling my eyes, but I still let out a chuckle; the Marshs weren’t all that religious by any means, and Wendy was a particularly outspoken proponent of women’s right to choose how they wanted to live, so I knew she was just taking a jab. “You have no right to use that against me, miss,” I pointed a soapy wet index finger at her, “Not when I know all about what you and Stanley were up to before your daddy let you get hitched.” It was true and she knew it. After we finally became close friends, I was Wendy’s main confidant, and she’d told me all about her relationship to Stan prior to the marriage - tales in great detail about the different places where they met and spent the night together in secret when they were younger. They had lived basically a whole second relationship together away from prying eyes, and the only people who knew about it were within the same mile radius right now.

Hearing this, she smirked and lifted her left hand close to her face, so I could clearly see the back, and I knew then and there that she’d had the last laugh. “And it worked.” With her other hand, she pointed towards her left ring finger, and there was no pretending I hadn’t noticed the shiny golden wedding band she always kept polished to perfection.

Although we had been partnered all those years and were as close as two souls can be, legally Kyle and I weren’t married. We reckoned there was no need, we already spent every single moment together, putting ourselves in danger for each other during the day and sleeping in the same tent at night. Take away the expensive ceremony and we’re husband and wife. Plus, weddings were usually very religious affairs, and not only were we both very distant from that reality, there was also the tiny fact that we were well-known gunslingers (no matter how lawful we thought ourselves to be, killing someone, even a criminal, is still a cardinal sin) and I’m sure your usual religious leaders aren’t willing to officiate for people like that.

And then there was the matter of children. I had always wanted them, it was one of my plans for life, but I had pushed that aside the moment I picked up a gun for the first time. Kyle and I didn’t keep residence on the same spot for too long - we’d lived places, worked for people for a while, but nowhere that we could actually safely stay for years on end. Our normal life was that of setting camp everywhere, to avoid being tracked by any enemies we made along the way, having to move extremely quickly - and sometimes even that wouldn’t be enough and we’d have to face conflict head-on. We could never do that with a child in our arms, it would be a recipe for disaster. Besides, with my age, I just felt too old for them at this point; all the mothers my age had their kids way earlier and it felt weird to start now, like I wouldn’t have anything in common with them. That ship had sailed.

I knew all of that and I was alright with it. My love for Kyle didn’t need no overpriced dress or ring to be real, and we didn’t need kids to have a real family. Hell, so many couples go through that whole song and dance of getting married only to end up cheating and abusing each other beyond belief! If that’s what marriage is, then I don’t want any part of it, thank you very much. We were doing fine. 

So it was the little girl inside of me that felt that little stab of jealousy seeing Wendy’s shiny jewelry and huge belly - the little girl that did grow up flipping through wedding catalogs to see the pretty dresses, that spent her childhood thinking of the names she’d give for her future children and hearing stories about young ladies who met their Prince Charmings and lived their happily ever after, before life took its turns and made her into a killer. This little girl would’ve loved to have a house and kids, and would’ve taken Wendy’s offer in half a heartbeat, but she didn’t have the right to live anymore. 

So as it came, it went. I went back to the dishes, acting like this conversation hadn’t affected me any more than our other casual chats during the day. “Wendy, we can’t,” I said as I splashed a handful of forks inside of the now cold water, “We’re gunslingers, in case you forgot. We don���t have a house like you and Stan do. Ya think a child should grow up living like we do? That ain’t fair.”

I heard the drag of her chair as she got up from it and moved towards me, but before I could turn to tell her to sit down again, she had already closed the distance between us with very quick steps. “You don’t have to live like you do.” She grabbed my right hand between hers and looked me in the eyes in a way that seemed almost like she was pleading. “We told you already. There’s the old house in the back you can take, it just needs some fixing up, Stan would be glad to do it. The kids love having you around, you can help care for them and if you have some we can help too, they can grow up together-”

“Wendy, we’re not gonna live on your farm!”, I interjected before she could go any further in her crazy rambles. Rambles that it wasn’t my first time hearing about - both in letters and in person, she’d sometimes go on about how we should create roots and start a family somewhere nice, while underlining how the farm had all this space and needed more workers and the kids could use a few more friends… “This is y’all’s house. We ain’t gonna impose on your life like that.” I wriggled my hand away from hers. ”And gunslingin’s our job, it’s all we know to do. We wouldn’t know how to live like you do. So just drop it, please.”

She patted her now free hand against her dress to dry it and didn’t seem to want to look at me anymore. “The beauty of being alive is that you can learn.” I heard her say meekly, which made me feel extremely bad that I had been so firm with her when she was so excited about her ideas - but I didn’t want to give her hope, or rather, give myself more hope by listening to her.

I reached to pick up another dirty dish from the pile, but my hand grabbed at nothing. While giving Wendy’s babbles my undivided attention, I had mechanically done all of the washing, now everything just needed to be dried and put away. But, as I stretched my arm out to grab a clean dish towel, it was her time to stop me in my tracks. “I’ll take it from here.” She declared as she reached for the rag before I could and snatched it out of my range. When she heard me gasp and scramble for a rebuttal, she added: “No buts, you must be tired, y’all were on the road all morning and then the kids were also a handful. You’re done for the night.”

“I ain’t going to bed anyway,” I noted, “If you want me to do nothing then I’ll stay here with you ‘till you’re done.”

“Don’t worry about me. It’ll be quick, I’ll dry this all off, and then I’ll go out to call the dog back inside anyway, might as well give the men a shout to come to bed too.” She shrugged as she picked up a wet plate.

I honestly wanted to argue a bit more and not leave her alone like that, but my aching back was very interested in what she suggested - I had spent my whole morning on the back of a horse and then the whole afternoon chasing after zippy children. I sighed in defeat and nodded, earning from her an earnest smile. “Very well then, but tomorrow everything’s on me. Don’t wanna see you up and about before noon, understood? Good night.”

I turned on my heels to leave, hearing her giggle behind me. “Sure thing, (Y/N).” I started walking out of the kitchen, but just then she uttered: “Just… Think about what I said, alright? Good night.”

I looked back over my shoulder to see if she was going to say or do anything else, but her back was already turned to me, as she stared at the window above the counter, watching over her property.

I suppose I ended up doing what she last told me to do in the end, because our little chat really stuck with me through the next minutes.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

Even after all the time I spent getting myself prepped for bed, Kyle still hadn’t returned by the time I was done with it. So I picked up a book from Wendy’s collection - reading was one of her main hobbies, growing up educated as she was, and she kept it up even after moving to the farm - and cozied up under the blanket of the guest room bed. I was happy to have something different to read this time; Kyle and I had a couple books with us, we liked to read whenever we had the free time, but it’s God awful having too many things when you’re always moving from place to place, so we kept our assortment to a minimum. Turns out it’s very easy to get annoyed at a book when it’s the only one you ever read, and those I had in my bag were starting to become a real eyesore.

This one I had in my hand I’d never seen before, but the cover was nice enough and the summary got me on its hook, so I was pretty intrigued. It was this fictional story about an outlaw who got diagnosed with a terminal disease and spent the rest of his life trying to atone for his sinful deeds, while also uncovering some truths about the people he was most close to. Without even realizing, even during the first paragraphs, I had grown attached to the main character - his sorrow as he looks back at what he managed to do with his life, when he remembers all the bad things he has done that brought him to his current situation, and the way he tries to change and make the lives of those he loves as easy as possible with the time he has left. 

It put me into deep thought rather fast. That character managed to change everything about his life, his core beliefs and priorities, when faced with the inevitability of death. He didn’t think he could, in his mind he was doomed to be nothing more than the sins he committed, and to pay for them when the time came for that - but, although he didn’t manage to live the happily ever after everyone wants out of life, he still managed to protect those he loved and leave an everlasting mark on the people around him.

‘The beauty of being alive is that you can learn,’ Wendy’s voice echoed in my mind again, teasing me with promises of a better life. Maybe it wasn’t too late for me and Kyle to change. We had something most others in our line of work didn’t have the luxury of - we had people willing to help us. But then again, did Kyle and I want to be helped? We had never considered such an option besides drunkenly debating those hypotheticals every once in a blue moon. It was possible that he didn’t even want something like this, and I’d rather bite my tongue out and never speak again than do so and lose him forever over it.

The sudden squeak of the ancient guest room door opening shoved me right out of the depths of my brain into the real world. Kyle was back from his long walk, whistling absentmindedly some random tune he probably picked up at a saloon. The rather acid stench that usually accompanied someone who had just smoked didn’t enter alongside him, and that I was glad for; He had obviously taken the time to air himself out and get all the smell out of his body before coming back in. I wondered if Stan had the same care towards his pregnant wife. “Sorry I took so long, Stan just wanted to show me the new horses and we ended up going for a ride on them.”

“No problem. I found myself something to do anyway.” I closed the book in my lap and lifted it briefly to show him the cover, before setting it on the nightstand, as far as I could from the candle that was also on top of it.

“You’ve gotta tell me what this one is about later.” He sat down on the narrow bench in front of the bed and began taking off his boots. “Did you and Wendy have fun together?”

“Sure thing, it was real nice”, I answered, “Lotsa great talking about our feminine issues and stuff. What about you, macho man?”

My voice carried a hint of sarcasm that he picked up on immediately. He turned his body slightly so he could look at me. “Sorry about that, I guess.” He rolled his eyes. “But you know you and Wendy don’t have the same kind of conversations Stan and I do. That’s what we meant.”

“I know, I know, I’m just playing with ya.” The reassurance that I wasn’t actually mad at him or his friend for the earlier comment made him relax a little. He turned his back to me again and started unbuttoning his shirt as I kept talking. “We really had a nice talk, her and I. It feels so good to be back here.”

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. Let’s make the most of the next days then.”

As he got up from the bench to remove his pants, I took the opportunity to take a good look at his body. Kyle had a very lean build, it was quite hard for him to gain weight and build those big muscles some other guys had, but he was by no means weak; doing stuff at camp, handling bandits to bring them to jail and the exercise it all took made him a very fit guy who could stand his ground even without a gun. He was also quite pale, at least for someone who spent almost all his time outside, and had plenty of freckles peppered all around his soft skin. I remembered Milton again, the farmhand Stan hired, and wondered if working on a farm every day under the sun would make Kyle look like that too - I hoped not, I loved my partner the way he was, didn’t want him to change a thing. But I knew it wouldn’t: After many summers together, the only thing I ever saw the sun do to Kyle was make him redder than a tomato all over, and his skin would usually start peeling a day or two later, which was why he preferred to wear long sleeved shirts even in the hotter months.  

There they were, the thoughts of being on the farm again. I blinked and focused my blurry eyes on Kyle again. He had stopped undressing. “Everything alright, honey?”, he inquired, looking at me with a frown.

“Ya, it’s nothin’. Just thinkin’ ‘bout how handsome my man is ‘s all.”, I was quick to answer. He shook his head with a smirk and, without answering, went back to taking off his undergarments.

When he was fully in the nude, he made his way towards the bed, not bothering to put on any sort of sleepwear. In that, he matched me - besides the bedding, there was nothing covering my body. This was normal for us: there was literally no part of our bodies that the other hadn’t seen, so why bother hiding anything? Besides, it made everything so much easier when we didn’t have to spend time ridding ourselves of all that fabric before making love. It had made for some embarrassing situations in the past, where we had to jump straight out of our beds, guns drawn, prepared for trouble; but, no matter how much we told ourselves that we really needed to stop being lazy and start wearing our pajamas, we’d still lay down the next night in our birthday suits, because there was no shame anyone else could make us feel that was more important than the feeling of his warm skin against mine.

“But you wanna know what’s funny?” Kyle commented as he pulled up the covers on the right side of the bed to lay down beside me, “Stan asked me again what I thought of the old house. Said this time we’re not getting away.”

Him bringing this up came as a shock - my eyes widened and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. Was this man a seer or something? How come he knew to bring up exactly the thing that was eating at my mind the whole night?

I managed to keep my cool and let out a laugh that might’ve sounded a bit too loud for comfort. “Wendy did the same thing to me!”, I yelped, “The way they talk about this with us you’d think they were tryna sell us the farm.”

“They really want us to move in.” He let out a deep exhale as his head hit the feather pillow after a whole day with very little rest. “And he did say Wendy would talk to you and have you hooked on it. That by the end of the year you’d have ‘a bun in the oven’ and I’d finally know the joys of being a father.”

“I’m sure it was just the wine talking. You know Stan’s a major lightweight.” Again with my deflecting. The truth was I didn’t want to give away that Wendy’s suggestions were slowly building a nest in my heart, because I knew it couldn’t stay. Maybe joking around a bit with Kyle would remind me of the situation we were in, that this idyllic little house life we led was only temporary, and that we were bound to go back on the road after a few days, in search of more work. All I couldn’t do was make my current interest too overt, and I would forget about it just fine.

“Eh, I don’t know… He seemed pretty serious to me. Not like he does when he’s drunk, and I’d know that.” He turned on his side, facing me, and I could see the reflection of my candle’s flame dancing inside his olive eyes as he stared intently. Either he was really captivated by it, or he didn’t want to look at me for some reason, and that made me even more worried. He stayed like this for a couple of minutes, during which the room fell to almost complete silence, only broken by the crickets outside or the occasional cackling of the tiny flame. “And… What did you think?” Kyle finally asked, lifting his face toward me, studying my features just in case they gave a different answer than the one that would come from my mouth. “About what Wendy said, I mean.”

“Hey, now, what I thought doesn’t matter.” It was now my turn to look away and stare at the flame, wanting to just blow it out and dunk the room in darkness, all to not continue this conversation. “You know it’s just silly daydreams she has. They don’t get out as often as they used to, with the children and whatnot, so she stays inside and comes up with stuff like this.”

Kyle rapidly sat himself up in the bed and cupped my face in his hands, turning it so that we could finally be looking at each other. “You know your thoughts are the only ones that matter to me.” He stated firmly, gazing into my eyes with even more certainty than that which he had in his voice. “I don’t care about what Stan or Wendy want. But if you have something to say, you have my full attention, no matter what it is.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, bringing my right hand up and resting it on top of his. It was fine. I knew I couldn’t just lie to Kyle here, he’d figure me out. And, with all his brains, surely he could come up with a logical explanation for my troubles and help me see the most sensible path. “Look, I’m sure they mean well and it’s such a pretty idea”, I started, “I’d love to do that if our lives were different. But as it is it wouldn’t stick, honey. There’s no point in pretendin’.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

I expected all sorts of reactions from Kyle, but not this one. His hand withdrew from my face as he pulled his upper body slightly away from me, but still kept his stare fixed. Both his eyebrows were raised and his eyes were wide, and his mouth fell slightly open as he breathed through it. He looked like someone would if they heard something they didn’t want to, or received disappointing news; which wasn’t how he usually reacted to those situations - Kyle was the type to argue his point to the bitter end, so disagreements usually came with a lot more anger instead of sadness or anxiety. This time, he seemed hurt.

“Oh, honey… You know why.” I rested my hands on top of my chest, feeling my heart accelerate, and trying to ground myself before the shock became too much. “We can’t put a child in a world like ours. Would be torture.”

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be a world like ours. We can live here, at least temporarily, and then we move somewhere else. Stan already gave us the go.”

“Kyle, you know we have targets on our backs!” I tried moving my body closer to his, like that might get the point across easier, my voice denouncing my increasing concern with his reaction. “All these people we sent to swing, their buddies always try to come after us. Stan and Wendy don’t deserve this. We can’t risk them.”

“How? We’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere!” There it was, the anger flaring his nerves. It always happened when something hit close to his heart, he felt the need to explain himself and make the people around him ‘see reason’ - I knew that behavior too well, though I wasn’t normally on the receiving end of it. But right now this wasn’t about logic or reason. These were his wishes. “We’ll disappear. I’ll change my name, you’ll change yours, we fake our deaths, these people don’t remember anything anymore after a couple of months anyway!”

Although I kept on nervously laughing, he was hitting all the right points, the points my own heart made when it wanted to feed on the delusions for a while longer. Kyle was very good at that - if he thought something was the better option, he’d twist both Heaven and Hell to make it make sense. “Oh yes? Well, say we go through with it, what do we know about ranch life?” I let out another nervous laugh. “Can you plant anything? Feed cattle?”

“Does that even matter?” In a quick movement, he climbed on top of me, knees at the side of my thighs as he straddled my legs, the blanket draping from his shoulders since he didn’t bother getting out from under it. We didn’t break eye contact for a single second. “You know I learn fast. If I-You want this, then we can figure it out!”

Clarity struck me like a bullet. Did he just say ‘I’? “Stan… Didn’t really talk to you about anything, did he?”

He shook his head again, less enthusiastically this time, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Do you remember a couple months ago, after you and I left the gang, when we talked about life with a house and kids and what we’d do if we had that?” I nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see the gesture anyway - but he took my silence as agreement and continued talking. “I sent Stan a letter soon after. At first it was just to vent, but then he replied with their suggestion and I thought… Well, we could at least try.” The end of his sentence brought with it a faint smile to his lips, and he opened his eyes again slowly.

For the first time in this conversation had my little fit of laughter been genuine. The three of them had put all this in motion right under my nose, based on one wishful conversation we had, which Kyle had taken to heart and made sure to come to fruition. “I thought you liked the hunt, though” I said, head tilting to the side. “Liked bringin’ people to justice an’ givin’ ‘em what they deserved, no?”

“I like that, but I love you.” He answered without missing a beat. Felt like he was plain waiting for it. “And besides, it’s not like we can’t be virtuous people and do what’s right even without spending all our lives chasing after criminals. Our honor comes from our hearts, not from the barrel of our guns.”

Good ol’ Kyle with his smooth way of talking. It was one of the many reasons I fell for him - though his day-to-day life was rough and he shot outlaws for a living, deep inside he was still a very caring man, someone intelligent who saw all the bad in the world and still chose to do good. “Where did you even learn to talk like that?” I chuckled. “You shoulda been a writer, not a shooter.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll get started on that now, since I’ll have more time.” Taking my hands in his, he kissed my knuckles lovingly. Then his thumb grazed my empty left ring finger, his touch, as soft as his rough hands would allow it, lingering for a couple of seconds. “After the wedding, that is.”

“Wait, you serious?” This night was getting so filled with surprises, I might just believe someone if they said Sparky was a human in disguise. “No need for that, my dear. I’m already yours.”

“But I want to do it.” His hands let go of mine and he moved his body closer to me, giving me a quick peck to the forehead. Then he suddenly grabbed the blanket and yanked it to the side, throwing it on the floor and leaving both our bodies completely exposed. “And we gotta do it quick, before you start to show.”

Before I could ask him what I’d start to show, he pulled me by the shoulders and smashed his lips against mine fiercely. My hands shot up to grab his curls, making him groan into my mouth and deepen the kiss - and there it was, the now faint taste of the cigar I hadn’t smelled previously, spicy and earthy, but it tasted like the sweetest thing on the planet just because of the sheer passion we shared right now.  

As I felt Kyle’s hand drift up from between us to knead at my breast, I broke the kiss with a gasp. “Wait, here?” I asked, surprised, though the corners of my mouth curved up, snitches of my excitement.

“Now.”, he declared, straightening his legs and propping himself up in his arms to give me space to slide down and lay beneath him, with my head now on the pillow and my legs spread. When I broke eye contact for just a second and finally looked down, I saw his dick was already almost fully hard - was the simple idea of getting me pregnant enough to make him like that?

“Can’t wait to see how you’re gonna explain this to them tomorrow” I said with a giggle as Kyle lowered his body, putting his weight on his elbows, and planting kisses all over my face. My subdued laughs quickly got replaced by soft hums as he started going down the side of my neck with his lips, while his hips started rocking against mine, his cock grinding against my body and the tip spreading some warm precum over my lower abdomen with each slow movement.

His answer, unlike most everything he ever said, was simple, direct, and left no leeway for questioning. “Well, it would do them some good to get used to it.” I felt my face burn like the damn candle as he said that, and my pussy starting to drip with wetness, the arousal soaking into the bedsheet. He stopped his kisses for a moment to put his mouth to my ear, and when he whispered his next declaration, it felt like it was going straight to my cunt: “Because I’m keeping you filled up now. Make you mine all the time and no one can do a damn thing about it.”

“Oh, you gonna change your mind when I’m all big and swollen…”, I drawled feebly. Disputing his claims was getting hard now since my brain was getting foggy with desire, but I still had to try, even if just to hear him singing praises to me some more.

I felt his left hand coursing through my body, stopping with his palm flat on my midriff, feeling almost cold with how hot I was getting all over. “Absolutely not,” He whispered again, “You’re gonna be even more fucking gorgeous when you’re carrying my child. I’ll make love to you every single night.”

My hand started to move down between our bodies, too, as I tried to reach for Kyle’s throbbing cock, wanting to make him feel good - if I couldn’t with pretty words like he did me, at least I knew I could do it with actions. But, when my fingers touched his leaking tip, he immediately took his hand off my belly and gripped my wrist, moving it back to the side of my body. As I looked at him with a puzzled expression on my face, he simply shook his head, gave me another peck to the mouth and started pushing himself down on the bed, only stopping when his face was level with my pussy and his palms were flat at the side of my hips.

Just by seeing him there, I could feel my walls clenching around nothing, almost like they begged on their own for his loving and experienced touch. Kyle was a damn great lover and from the very first day we laid together it was like he knew all the right ways to make me come undone, and he had no shame about anything he did to achieve it - most of all, he was eager to do it. By God did this man love to please me. If that was what was waiting for me every night from now on, I could very easily get used to everything else.

He started planting small kisses on the inside of both of my thighs as he pushed my legs slowly up, my knees now almost hitting my chest. His lips felt soft and endearing on my skin, but this was not where I wanted them - and he knew it, with the way he held my gaze the whole time as he did it, his eyes glittering with his teasing ways. Every few kisses, he’d break the sequence with a slight graze of his teeth on my skin, the softest of bites, but enough to make all the fine hairs in my thigh rise up in a pleasurable goosebump.

Just as I was getting tired of the wait and was contemplating pulling at his hair to bring him away from my leg, it was like he had read my mind again. He let go of my thighs and put his hands on my hips, not quite gripping them, but steadying them in place. I closed my eyes and sighed contentedly as he licked a stripe from my already very wet cunt to my clit, giving it a very quick kiss at the end, which made me wonder for a second if he was about to start teasing me again and how long for. But then all thoughts left my brain as soon as he started swirling his tongue over my clit, in a pattern I didn’t know or care about, making me squirm almost immediately and dig my nails into my palm.

His tongue slithered down, making its way to my entrance, and my hips started rolling against his mouth, trying to help his movements as he fucked me with it. He’d grunt every now and then as he did it, lost in the satisfaction he felt by pleasuring me, and sending the vibrations through my heat, making me even wetter. I could feel him staring at me from down there, too, despite my shut eyes; He always paid attention to every reaction of mine, licking and sucking all the right parts that he knew made me squirm.

Then he moved up with his mouth to focus on my clit again and my hands darted down to grab at his hair, my palms hurting at the spots where the little crescent shapes from my nails had formed. I felt one of his fingers circling my entrance, gathering my arousal before plunging fully deep inside, my walls almost sucking it in. Another one soon followed and he started pumping them in and out while curling them upwards, massaging my sweet spot perfectly, still never missing the pace of the swirls of his tongue on my hardened bud.

It became too much too quickly. The dam holding back the river of my climax broke after not much longer and my orgasm washed over me violently, every single muscle in my body tensing up and my thighs pressing strongly against the side of my lover’s head while my hips rocked against his mouth, chasing my pleasure to its bitter end. One of my hands darted up to cover my mouth immediately, muffling the loud cries I let out as it happened, my one and only moment of clarity during the whole release.

And even then Kyle didn’t stop his ministrations, his hand covered with my juices as his fingers kept pushing inside, making way through my tightly clenched walls. After I came down from my haze, however, the overstimulation started to become rather painful - only when I managed to collect enough strength to tug at the back of his hair rather fiercely to pull him away from my cunt did he stop, and even then I swore I could see for a brief moment a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

Kyle positioned his body between my legs again and took his time to run one last stripe along my slit with his fingers, the ones he used inside me, before bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, with his eyes closed. He did this every time, not wanting to waste even a single drop of me. I was his favorite whiskey and, when it came to that, he was a damn alcoholic.

This time it was me putting my hands on Kyle’s shoulders and bringing him down for a kiss, running the tip of my tongue across his lips lightly, tasting my love in him. When we parted, gasping for air, I leisurely ran my hands over his upper body, caressing every inch of him they could reach - his cheeks, then down his neck, around his collarbone, his chest, until my left hand stopped at his shoulder, on top of his biggest and most visible scar.

Kyle had plenty of scars, these things came with our line of work, but this one was different. Not caused by a bullet or a knife, but rather by fire itself - a dynamite explosion that caught us by surprise during a shootout in this very state we were currently in. That fire almost took my lover’s life, dragged both of us into months of suffering and stress, and even years after it was extinguished we still carried with us not only the trauma, but a physical reminder of everything it claimed. 

The physical scar itself was a bit rough to the touch and full of small streaks and bumps all over. It spread all over his shoulder into the right side of his chest, his upper arm, and a bit over his back. Across the years, its color had faded from a gruesome brown to a slight reddish tint, but it still had a jarring contrast to Kyle’s pale skin. No part of it was delightful, if I’m being honest. Yet I’d kiss it every single night, caress it at every opportunity and massage it with expensive essential oils whenever those were available; because I’d take a whole life with that scar over even a single second of the alternative.

“You saved me, you know,” He murmured with a sigh.

“I know, because you say it all the time.” I chuckled. “But we ain’t gotta talk about that anymore, dear. You know I’d do it again.”

“Not that day. Well, yes that day, but also all the others before and after that.” He lowered his head closer to mine so that our noses and foreheads were touching, and his warm breath ghosted my lips, bringing the lustful haze back to my brain. At this point I didn’t know what I wanted to do more: Hear his voice forever as he whispered his praise and love towards me, or kiss him until I could feel all these words inside of my skin.

My partner took himself in his hands and started to slide the tip of his cock up and down between my folds, from my entrance to my clit, making my whole body twitch a little when he got to the still very sensitive bundle of nerves. “And you might just be about to save me again,” He continued, aligning himself with my entrance, “You’ll be the perfect wife and mother. My wife and the mother of my babies.”

Kyle pushed himself inside of me slowly, inch by inch, being extra careful as his big and thick cock stretched out my cunt. It didn’t hurt much, I was used to it after years of taking him regularly, but he still wanted to make sure I was comfortable every single time before continuing. 

Once I gave him a smile and a small nod, he started to push in and out slowly, letting me feel every single twitch of his cock inside me and every one of those veins I knew so well pressed against my walls in their entirety. He quickly built up momentum, however, and soon the room was filled with the squelching sounds of my wetness being pounded against, his hips striking my body and the bedframe hitting the house’s wooden walls perfectly synchronizing with it. After a while like this, without warning, he picked up both my legs and brought them over each of his shoulders, pushing my knees back against my chest, my toes touching his hair as they curled in pleasure.

Kyle was hitting my cervix with every strong thrust now, sending sharp and slightly painful stings that jolted through my lower abdomen with every smash of his soft head against that barrier. And yet, every time I felt those, I just wanted more and more; Having Kyle deep inside me in this position always managed to cover all the right spots inside of me, I just wanted to hold him, keep him there. And I knew he was feeling just as good as I was - the sounds coming from his throat were getting louder and louder as he shut his lips tighter to prevent them from turning into full brown growls, his fingertips whiter than ever since his grip on my hips was so fierce I was sure by tomorrow I’d have a few bruises there.

“K-Kyle… Aaaaah… Give… Me…” I whimpered between moans, stretching my arms towards him, nails scratching against his skin as I tried to grab his hips, keep them glued to mine forever.

“Lord… You want me even more, do you?” He responded with shaky breaths, and I immediately felt it when he picked up even more speed - a move made even easier by the amount of slick built up in and around my pussy -, jackhammering into my cunt and making me see stars both from pain and pleasure. 

At this point I should’ve known there was no point in even trying to hide our sinful sounds anymore, but I still felt like I needed to do it. I tried to pick up Kyle’s pillow from the side of my head and put it over my face to muffle my constant cries of satisfaction, but my partner immediately grabbed it from my hand and tossed it back in its place with a growl.

“No. Don’t hide it. I want to see it. The face you make… When you cum for me and I stuff you up to the brim.”

The scene he described burned into my brain almost immediately and I could think of nothing else. For him to fill me up, give me a baby, make us a family - it was all I wanted out of life now, and the mere thought of it was enough to have my muscles tensing and that familiar pressure on my lower abdomen to start building up again, threatening to snap. “Please, Kyle,” I whined, “Breed me. Give it all to me… I need it…”

“I know you do, darling...” He leaned closer to me to give me a kiss, the clash of our lips messy and awkward with our desperate need to touch each other and the fogginess in our brains, but we didn’t care. I just wanted to have him as close as possible. “I need it too… Cum for me, please. I want to feel you milking my dick to the last drop.”

He needed not ask further. For the second time that night I felt my whole body burst into electricity, my cunt spasming like crazy as I tried to give Kyle exactly what he asked of me, exactly what I felt like I was meant to do all along. My legs trashed all over near his shoulders and my back arched as I lost control of my body with the waves of pleasure that washed me over.

The tightness around his cock as my walls fluttered around him and my face contorting in absolute pleasure as I came were what finally did him in. Kyle threw his head back while he came undone inside me, grabbing my hips and pulling them towards him as he buried himself deep into my core, his manhood throbbing, painting my walls with his seed. The sensation was extremely new to me - I felt the warm spurts painting my walls, filling me up and leaving Kyle’s mark somewhere no other man could ever reach.

I wasn’t used to Kyle finishing inside of me. Considering the everlasting battle between our higher than average libidos and our fear of having children, the closest compromise for that was having him do it on my breasts, belly, mouth, face, even ass if he was feeling wild enough. On the rare occasions where he did cum inside, I couldn’t even enjoy it - my brain would immediately be flooded with stress and worry, shutting down any other sensation, and I’d spend the next month or so losing sleep waiting for my next period so I could finally be at peace again.

But here there was none of that. I could relax and ride out this high with him. I let him have his moment, heaving my exhaustion away quietly as I admired the red flush on his pale skin and the sheen of his sweat under the candlelight, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he panted like his lungs weren’t big enough for the amount of air he needed to live. When he finally opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was me, I felt wrapped up in his love all over again.

When his breathing started to steady, I figured he’d get himself off of me and take his place by my side on the bed. Instead, he just laid his whole body on top of mine, somehow being careful enough to not crush me under his weight as he collapsed.

“Kyle?” I gave him some quick taps to the shoulder with my fingers after a minute or two like this in silence, when I’d started to worry that he might just fall asleep. “C’mon, dear, you gotta scoot over if you wanna sleep.”

“Hmph… Sorry…” He groaned, with a sluggishness that made clear he was indeed just a few sheeps counted away from deep slumber. “Wanted to make sure to keep it all in. Don’t wanna waste…”

Even though he clearly didn’t want to, he slowly moved away from me and rolled to his side of the bed. When his dick withdrew from me, I suddenly felt a bit empty and wondered briefly if I couldn’t have tried to sleep like that or at least stay a little longer.

“Sorry, my dear,” I planted a kiss to the side of his head, “But you know, if you don’t get me pregnant tonight, we have plenty of time now.”

I sat back on the bed briefly to blow the candle out on the nightstand, plunging our room into almost complete darkness. As soon as I laid my head back on my pillow, Kyle brought his arm over my body and pulled me closer to him, nuzzling my hair.

“We have plenty of time now,” He whispered, with more energy in his voice this time.

And we definitely did.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[daisymbin]

hi! could you do fluff prompt #37 with hoshi but its yn who brings hoshi flowers AAAAAAAAAA maybe because yn knows how hard this cb has been for hoshi so they surprise him with flowers after practice ><

WHY IS THIS CUTE!!!!! thank you for requesting lovely 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

fluff prompt #37: "you brought me flowers? just because?"

soonyoung was getting frustrated. he had been trying to nail down the choreography for the last hour, but it wasn’t clicking. his movements were stiff, and the steps felt off. it wasn’t even about the difficulty of the routine—he was just getting too worked up over the smallest things. his temper was hot, his mind too cluttered to focus.

mingyu and seungkwan were there too, leaning against the wall and watching him with amused looks. neither of them said anything, knowing well that interrupting soonyoung when he was in this mood was a terrible idea.

just as soonyoung was about to shout in frustration, the door to the practice room opened. he watches as you stepped in, carrying a small bouquet of bright flowers, and the atmosphere immediately shifted.

soonyoung stopped mid-movement, his eyes snapping to the flowers in your hands. his irritation faded for a split second, replaced by a flash of confusion. who’s giving her flowers? he thought, his chest tightening. is it her crush?

he stared at you for a moment, his gaze slightly narrowing. “who gave those to you?” he asked, his tone a little more annoyed than usual, though he tried to mask it.

you blinked, taken aback by the question. “uh... no one,” you said softly, holding the bouquet out toward him. “i got them for you.”

for a moment, soonyoung didn’t know how to process that. “for me?” his voice was barely above a whisper as he looked at the flowers, then back to you. “why?”

his ears began to burn a little, the tips turning a shade of red that was impossible to hide. he wasn’t used to this, to being the center of your attention like this. he could feel his heart racing slightly as he tried to make sense of it. why would you get me flowers?

“just because,” you replied with a shrug, offering him a soft smile.

soonyoung stared at the flowers again, the blush creeping further across his cheeks. “you... got me flowers? just because?” his voice dropped, quieter now, a little more vulnerable. he could feel his own heart hammering in his chest.

before you could respond, mingyu, ever the troublemaker, jumped in with a grin plastered on his face. “you got soonyoung hyung flowers? what about me? what about us? we want flowers too!"

"they're just flowers, friends can give each other flowers! calm down." you answered, trying to calm your hammering heart.

seungkwan chimed in, barely able to contain his laughter. “just flowers? just because? this is a whole new level of romance,”

soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his ears turned even redder as he shot both of them a glare. “shut up,” he mumbled, his words barely audible. he was trying to keep his composure, but it was hard with mingyu and seungkwan giving him no mercy.

you, on the other hand, felt your stomach twist with nerves. you had no idea what was going on, but it sounded like they were making fun of you. was it that obvious? you thought, trying not to fidget with your hands. maybe bringing him flowers wasn’t such a good idea after all.

soonyoung, still flustered and now very much aware of how loud mingyu and seungkwan were being, took a deep breath and finally looked back at you. “thanks... really. i, uh... i appreciate it.”

you gave him a small smile, but you could feel the tension between you two. “no problem,” you said, shifting awkwardly. “well, i’ve got some errands to run. i should go.”

as you turned to leave, soonyoung’s eyes followed you, his mind racing. what am i doing? he thought. just tell her you like her already, you idiot.

mingyu and seungkwan shared a knowing look, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind you, they wasted no time.

“you’re such an idiot,” mingyu said, his voice dripping with teasing. “how much more obvious can it be? flowers? just because? come on.”

seungkwan snorted. “seriously, how can you not see it? she brought you flowers, you’ve gotta make a move, or she’s gonna think you’re either completely stupid & clueless or you just don't have feelings for her.”

soonyoung’s face was burning now, his fists clenching at his sides. “i know, okay? it’s not that simple.”

mingyu rolled his eyes. “it’s not that complicated, you just need to get your act together. you’re lucky she even likes you.”

soonyoung didn’t say anything more. he was too embarrassed to admit just how nervous he was about the whole thing. he didnt want to admit that something as simple as flowers got to him, but something in him clicked, and without another word, he turned and rushed for the door.

he dashed down the stairs, his mind made up in an instant.

you were just outside the building, walking down the street with your head slightly lowered. soonyoung caught sight of you and nearly tripped in his haste to catch up. “hey!” he called out, his voice breathless. “wait up!”

you stopped and turned to face him, eyes wide. “soonyoung? did i leave something behind?”

he ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. "no, uh," he took a deep breath, then blurted out the question he had been dying to ask. “do you have time tonight? for dinner? and maybe a movie?” his eyes shifted to yours, trying to read your expression.

you blinked, caught off guard by the suddenness of his words. “dinner and movie? like... outside?"

he nodded quickly, his nervousness creeping back in. “yeah, like... outside.”

your eyes flicked between him and the ground, trying to process what was happening. “like... a date?”

soonyoung’s heart skipped a beat, and he nodded again, more confident now as a smile creeps onto his face, “yeah. like, a date.”

[dreamsy990]

rough sketches for designs of all the pt for the wof au! (also more akechi and better joker here)

thoughts + closeups under the cut

i tried to give proper justification for all the pt to have their codenames here which for a handful of them meant their names are just. shortened versions of something else. so crow is short for crow poison. aka false garlic. its a type of flower :3. i mean theororetically crow would be a valid name but hes a rainwing here and it didnt seem like a very fitting name with that in mind? but theres a couple rainwings named after flowers i think. hes a rainwing for obvious reasons i think. id like to think hed have a very light color palette that shifts to this when he gives up trying to hide who he is. youuu can see that lighter palette in the art i linked earlier.

fox! which is short for snowfox. yes i know snowfox is a real canon name but yknow what else is canon? icewings have a big list of names they go down. so his name is snowfox. i dont have anything else to say here. like ofc hes an icewing hes YUSUKE. id like to think he left the ice kingdom to go to jade mountain (bc is it a wof au without jade mountain) to "broaden his horizons as an artist". which would be how he meets the other guys

skull! is it his real name? hes not telling! i am the least happy with his design tbh.

ORACLE!! her real name is beetle but she likes to go by oracle instead. i struggled a bit on what tribe to make her actually. originally i wanted her to be either part or fully rainwing? because i thought her using her camoflauge to hide from people in crowded places could be fun. but eventually i decided i not to do that. i dont think theres any hybrids in this cast actually? might actually change my mind on that to make noir half leafwing but shh. anyways i think a bug is fitting for her. so she gets to be a hivewing. no abilities for her shes just a little guy

JOKER!! i think it would be fun if joker IS his real name but people think its an alias. his design was easy as shit. ofc hes a nightwing ofc hes got big red stars on his wings hes JOKER. not pictured is morgana also! mona is jokers """pet""" scavenger who speaks dragon. congrats mona you finally get to be human! too bad its in the dragon au. anyways might post a morgana drawing whenever i clean up his design

violet! (named after the violet copper butterfly). her sisters name and the name she uses for a while is rose (named after the common rose butterfly). i ALSO kinda considered her being a rainwing (literally changing herself to look more like her sister) but decided silkwing was a better choice,,,,, im really happy with her design ok

PANTHER!! that is her actual name btw. MY FIRST THOUGHT FOR THIS AU WAS SKYWING ANN I WOULD KILL MYSELF IF SHE WAS ANYTHING ELSE,,,, ik skywings cant have blue eyes unless theyre firescales or sky but shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i wanted to,,,,,, canon is what i want it to be.

queen is short for queenfish! she was a bit of an afterthought sorry </3. but shes a seawing! good for her <3

AND NOIIIRRRR!! i wanted her to be a mudwing as soon as i thought about it for more than a second. design wise i dont have much to say but i think storywise it might be cool if she was an only child and her father (in an incrdible rare move for a mudwing) was actually a present figure in her life. leading her to be kinda isolated from her peers and giving her a big reason to be very attached to him. idk its just thoughts rn. i dont have a clear story in mind yet. anyways those are my dragon thieves i hope you liked them

[shhh-secret-time]

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)