#I know there are posts floating about absolutely everywhere

[artificiallita]

i got bit by the butch wolverine bug and trust me im in lov w her BUT have we considered futch deadpool???

(headcanons and upcoming fic snippets under the cut)

working on a big silly fanfic about this hot mess boinking logan in the odyssey. here’s some headcanons while the story finishes cooking.

- so. kept her first name as wade. i’ve seen a few alt names floating around for f!deadpool (big love for the winnies, winonas, and wandas of the ladypool extended universe) but genderfuck ‘not rlly a name’ just fits my vision for her. her parents were weird idk.

- deadpool is a woman in all variants except one in my personal headcanon. he is called dudepool. also her corresponding nicepool is male gaze-ified pre-mutation wade. she’s bleach blonde and her suit has a titty window.

- ex special forces turned mercenary whose life shit the bed when she was diagnosed with cancer. tried to be proactive about it long enough to get a mastectomy, then found out said cancer was pretty much everywhere else, and we know the story from there. since this predates her healing factor, she’s permanently single-boobed. has padding in her suit to even her out since it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, wears big t-shirts and ignores it in her civilian life.

- bisexual disaster zone. spent many years in a very happy and deeply perverted relationship with a male stripper named van carlysle, until that went down the toilet. a solid 70% of the casual sex she has is with women.

- dresses like the shitshow nightmare we know and love, loves an awful t shirt and a pair of crocs. put little to no effort into her appearance pre-mutation and that hasn’t really changed, had a brief phase of screwing around with makeup and wigs and then decided it was basically - to use a line of internal monologue from the pending fic - rolling a turd in glitter.

- speaking of, has a real complex about the changes to the way people perceive her post-mutation, namely that they seem to find her super fucking irritating and odd in a way that they very much Didn’t when she was still conventionally hot. between her military background and the general company she keeps, she’s quite often the only woman in her circles, and has always been a dysfunctional mess of adhd and unfiltered word-vomit, but that was generally read as mpdg ‘cool girl’ behaviour prior to her transformation, and now people seem to just think she’s a lunatic. less ‘oh god im hideous’, although she *absolutely* has those moments too, more ‘oh god everyone i know has thought i was a weird pain in the ass this entire time and only tolerated me because they wanted to fuck me’

- wears a lot of poorly applied eyeliner and purposely sleeps in it because she thinks it looks cool. it does not.

- had absolutely zero plans to snitch to cassandra about johnny’s rant, right up until the ‘bald hell’ line. she took that shit personally (almost definitely didn’t need to but whatever. i support women’s wrongs.)

and some snippets from the fic, all of which are me wade objectifying logan. technically spoilers but also what else did anyone expect

[emotoangel]

okay! today we’re gonna have a chat about some things I don’t usually chat about, because if it helps one person then it’s worth it! from someone who’s been there, if you’re in The Bad Place mentally right now, here are my tips for how to make it through!

I’m not a doctor or a medical professional of any kind, but I have been there, and I’ve seen lots of doctors and medical professionals (and part of my work is giving people this kind of advice) so I will relay on to you both what has been told to me and what I have tried.

first of all, if you’re reading this I love you, and there is nothing you cannot make it through. I know you don’t want to be strong right now, I know you just want things to be better or over or to be able to rest, and I know it’s really fucking hard to try and keep going when things feel like this, but I promise you there is nothing that is worth losing your life. absolutely nothing. no one deserves to take that from you - not family, not friends, not partners, and certainly not incredibly shitty celebrities or politicians. your life is special and powerful and you can make it through this, I promise you. so here are some things that will help:

1. try and practice even an ounce of self care. and I genuinely mean even an ounce. if you can’t brush your teeth, rinse your mouth with mouthwash or water. go to the toilet. shower if you can. have a glass of water or a drink you enjoy. brush your hair, or if you can’t brush it then put it up and out of your face. do some skincare, something, anything! if you feel like you can barely move from your bed, move to sit on the floor. just do something. move from wherever you’re currently rotting just for a minute.

2. if there is absolutely anyone you trust, call them. you don’t have to tell them how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking about or why you feel how you feel (though if you feel up to it, doing so will help) - you can talk to them about anything. ask them about what they’re doing this upcoming weekend. talk to them about a tv show you saw recently. talk about literally anything with them. just interacting with someone will make at least a little bit of a difference.

3. breathing exercises are fine if they work for you, if they don’t, try grounding exercises, such as the 5 senses technique. think about 5 things you can see, 4 you can hear, 3 you can touch, 2 you can smell and 1 you can taste. distract your brain even for a minute to give yourself just a little bit of respite.

4. do something you love. hey, you’re thinking about dying anyway, you might as well try something you enjoy first - right? listen to an UPBEAT song you enjoy (sad songs are fine, but ideally you want something to shock the system a little). if you aren’t able to think of a song, listen to some one direction (I personally recommend don’t forget where you belong, because you can’t not laugh a little when they sing ‘if you ever feel alone - don’t!’ because it’s just so fucking ridiculous) or fucking LMFAO or something. I dunno, man. listen to something that will make you laugh, like something by weird al yancovic or cosmo Jarvis or something. If you don’t wanna do music, make something. draw something shit! try and draw a dog from memory. make a paper airplane. crochet a square. just do SOMETHING that you enjoy. if you haven’t found joy in it recently, that’s okay. do it anyway. at least then something new exists that didn’t before, and that’s so cool right?

5. if you are in a place (country, state, county etc.) that has even some semblance of decent medical care, and you feel capable of doing so, call your GP/doctor and ask them for an emergency appointment. if you’re in the UK call 111. tell someone how you’re feeling IF it is safe to do so where you are. see if you can get some help.

6. if literally all else fails, do anything (within reason) that you can to fall asleep. listen to sleep sounds, meditation music, rain sounds idk. have a wank. take a singular melatonin tablet. spray lavender sleep spray. wrap yourself up in a heated blanket. have a bath. do whatever you need to do to get you to sleep. if it takes you 2 hours to fall asleep, it takes you 2 hours. you have panic attacks and you cry and you beg for someone to sedate you but you do not give up. you get some sleep.

and then you get up and you try again tomorrow. and maybe tomorrow you can brush your hair. or you can drink some water. have a slice of toast. brush your teeth. listen to a song you like. call a friend. call a helpline. call a doctor. and if you can’t, that’s fine. you try those things again the next day. and you keep trying. until eventually it comes more easily to you.

I don’t want to sound patronising, but if you’re thinking about ending it all then you’re already at rock bottom. it will feel like nothing can get worse. you will feel like everything is ending and this is your only option. so why not try a couple of these things, right? because things can’t really get worse. either they help a little or they do nothing, and then at least you’ve tried, right?

and I’m telling you now that bare minimum one of these things will help you, at least a little. I don’t live next door to you - I can’t provide resources for every single state, county, street, country in the world, but I promise you those resources are out there. and I can tell you now, from someone who’s been at rock bottom, it’s only up from here.

things will get better. you will meet friends who love you. friends who care about you more than you ever thought you could be cared about. you’ll see animals in the street and people in love and new flowers and you’ll try new foods and you’ll learn to love that shit spread that everyone enjoys that you hate. and you will have bad days. because bad days in life are inevitable. but you will make it through them all. right now, you only need to make it through this one.

if you need a hug, I am hugging you. if you need someone to tell you things will be okay, I am telling you right now things will be okay. if you need a sign to keep fucking screaming and crying and kicking and clawing to stay alive right now, take this as your fucking sign.

you can do this. everything will be alright in the end, and if its not alright, it’s not the end.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Will you do a scenario of how we’d meet Bill for the first time and what he would be like if you were sort of “friends”? 🙏

You were minding your business while walking through the woods of Gravity Falls, just needing a change of scenery and finding the woods to be the perfect place to do so with it’s mushrooms, flowers and the wildlife that crossed your path.

Everything was seemingly fine and not out of the ordinary until you started to feel like you were being watched from somewhere, you looked to see if you could spot anyone, but all you could see were birch trees that had markings on the bark that suspiciously looked like eyes. You were just about thinking of leaving until you heard a voice from somewhere.

‘Hey kiddo!’

You looked to the left, nothing

‘Other way kid.’

the to the right, nothing

‘Colder.’

Up? Nope, nothing.

‘You’re practically an human popsicle at this point.’

How about looking down? Still nothing. Now you were getting confused, scared and annoyed.

You heard the voice sigh and say ‘you’re starting to make me feel sad, here I’ll make this a little easier for you.’ Then before you could say anything, a small yellow triangle with one eye wearing a top hat and bow tie appeared before you.

‘It’s great to finally meet you y/n.’ It said and immediately you were freaked out.

‘Who are you and how did you know my name?’ You asked, uneasy.

‘The names Bill Cipher and I know lots of things, lots of things.’ Bill replied, shrugging. ‘Wanna see what I can do?’ He adds after a brief pause but before you could answer him, he held his hand out to a nearby deer as its teeth were taken out of its mouth and into his small hand in a neat pile. ‘Deer teeth for you kid hehe.’ He then chuckled as he dumped the pile of deer teeth into your hands.

You on the other hand didn’t find this funny and fought the urge to vomit as you offered Bill the deer teeth back. ‘Mind giving the deer its teeth back? I’m sure it has more use for them than either of us.’ You ask as Bill did as you asked and gave the deer its teeth back as it galloped off elsewhere, leaving you alone with the weird triangle in the woods. Everything that had happened within the past five minutes had been overwhelming for you, too overwhelming that you had to sit yourself down on the trunk of a fallen tree and put your head in your hands, muttering to yourself.

‘This isn’t real, this is all some weird fever dream or I’m tripping balls. There’s no other explanation.’

Bill only chuckled as he floated next to you and patted you on the shoulder. ‘There, there human I can reassure you that what you just saw was very much real.’

You looked at him from your hands, unamused. ‘You fucking suck at comforting people you know that?’

‘I think we’ll get along great!’ Bill chirped gleefully.

‘We absolutely will not.’ You replied but you had an inkling that your opinion on the matter didn’t matter.

Now onto how bill would be if you were sort of ‘friends.’

He’s got a weird way about showing his feelings in any capacity.

The little shit put rats, dead rats outside your door, spelling out your name on random ass occasions that made it look like to others that a) you were haunted or b) had a weird stalker who liked to form your name out of dead rats.

He doesn’t want you having friends outside of him because and I quote ‘I’m the only friend you need, why bother with anyone else. So don’t even try cuz I’ll be watching you.’

Will leave sticky post it notes anywhere and everywhere saying to get more silly straws or else he’ll find a way to possess you and make you do embarrassing shit. Ie: walk through town in your underwear, make you speak backwards, kick a child-

Bill was a brat and his pranks were often traumatic but apparently they were ‘light’ in comparison to the stuff he did to his other meat puppets. You didn’t ask any further questions about what he meant by that in fear that he’d show you one as an example.

You are probably the only person who bill has told about his secret technique with mascara and eyeliner, even seeing him do it once when he insisted that you had a ‘sleepover’ at your place. He even points the mascara brush at you warningly as he threatened that you were to never tell people about this or else.

His version of jealousy when he sees you spending time with others is to trash your house and try to act cute when you catch him in the act. You don’t fall for this and give Bill the silent treatment for the rest of the day as he practically lost his shit over your lack of attention.

Probably air horned you awake once.

Bill Wouldn’t tell you this but he make your enemies do stupid shit that resulted in their deaths, for fun he claims but he didn’t want his favourite meat sack to start leaking water from their eyes every time something went wrong in their life. So he just cuts them out in the most brutal way possible.

Bill was stuck to you like glue and there’s was no way to hide from him as he would ultimately appears where you are, even if you’re in the fucking shower, he don’t care.

Bill: *appears in shower* my favourite meat sack have you- stop screaming it’s only me, have you seen a king cobra anywhere, I must’ve dropped it somewhere here-

He probably once threatened you with the whole ‘steal your eyes’ thing like he did with Ford but you had witness enough of Bill’s behaviour to know that he was joking about that, to which he was proud and would magically make a cake filled with worms, bugs and other unpleasant things appear in celebration.

You may or may not have been sick that day.

Your and Bills friendship was weird, probably not the healthiest in all honestly and you should seek help and or maybe therapy for the shit he’s out you through.

You were his property, you were his pet, HIS MEAT SACK and you wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without him knowing and or being nearby in hopes of catching your eye.

Just a yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat and bow tie floating ominously in the background was enough to unnerve anyone.

You had no freedom as far as you were concerned in this ‘friendship’ but bill likes to claim that he has given you the most freedom out of anyone who has ever existed.

[froggibus]

Pool Party - Obey Me

Includes: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Beel & Belphie

Genre: fluff, crack

Summary: what better way to spend a hot summer day than at the pool with your favorite demons?

CW: swimming, sunburns, lots of sunscreen, kind of a crack fic ngl, alcohol and drinking, crocs, chicken fights, reader = mc

this is a part of my Summer Suntacular Event, come check it out!

guys i am SO BEYOND EXCITED TO FINALLY POST THIS!!! ive been waiting a WEEK...anyway sorry for starving my obey me followers for almost a year...my bad

Lucifer:

surprisingly not wearing his dorky scuba suit

hovers around the grill while Beel cooks 

brings extra water and sunscreen in case anyone forgets theirs 

pesters you about reapplying your sunscreen like every 20 minutes 

tries to beat Beel at chicken but almost instantly loses 

brings his extra paperwork and refuses to participate in anything until he finishes it

the only one who’s jaw doesn’t drop when he sees you in your bathing suit

he still thinks you’re hot—he just doesn’t show it like everyone else

insists on getting a group photo of everyone but it takes like ten tries before he gives up because everyone keeps squinting at the sun

wants to be the “responsible” one and not drink so he fills his thermos with sangria to be sneaky

literally everyone knows it's sangria cause who brings a thermos to the pool

Mammon:

asks for your help taking pictures of his brothers in their bathing suits so he can sell them

does not burn and refuses to put on sunscreen unless you beg him to

and then acts like he’s not doing it for you but just protecting himself

doesn’t bring his own beer or anything and just leeches off of everyone else’s

has another, secret mission of trying to push Lucifer in the water without getting caught

succeeds and blames it on you like the bastard (affectionate) that he is

thinks you look too hot in your bathing suit and tries to cover you the whole day. does not succeed.

will cause a fight if anyone compliments you 

“Mammon are you jealous or something”

“tch the Great Mammon doesn’t get jealous. you’re crazy.”

Levi:

a miracle that he even came outside i'm afraid

wears his dorky ass hawaiian button up and goggles around his neck

burns SO easily please slather him in sunscreen

hates that the other brothers get to see you in your bathing suit and pouts about it like the baby he is

lays on a lawn chair and plays on his switch + refuses to get in the water

however as soon as you ask Beel for a piggyback in the pool, he’s Michael Phelps

carries a water gun and pretends like he’s assassinating people

accidentally ruins Asmo’s makeup and starts a brawl

super blushy and flustered if you come near him in your bathing suit

and if you touch him his system does a hard reset

refers to the whole day as a ‘filler episode’ much to everyone’s confusion

eats about a thousand different popsicles with increasingly weird flavours

wears a pair of purple crocs with anime charms (he’s been begging you to get a pair for months so you guys can match croc charms)

Satan:

does not care much for swimming but he’ll lay on a lawn chair and read his book

talks to you at least three times about the dangers of UV rays and the importance of sunscreen

has a really dorky sun visor that he wears anytime he’s in the sun like an old man

brings an extra matching one for you 

needs to challenge Lucifer at absolutely everything

the second Luci steps in the water to play chicken, Satan is throwing you on his shoulders

has one of those lounge floats decorated with cats that he lays on while he reads and sunbathes

only drinks moscow mules and insists that you try them

has a meticulously maintained pair of Birkenstocks that he wears everywhere

tries to wear them into the pool and has a five minute argument with Lucifer about why he can’t

lays out your towel in the sun for you so it’s nice and warm when you get out of the pool

bonus points if he wraps you up in it

Asmo:

comes an hour later after everyone else because he had to shave everywhere and paint his nails to match his bathing suit

takes a thousand and one pictures of himself 

and about a million more of the two of you together (his favourite of which he sets as his lock screen)

has an incredible collection of cruelty free, reef friendly, non-comedogenic sunscreens that he applies liberally

goes in the water but refuses to get his hair wet and WILL cause a fight if anyone splashes him

weirdly good at chicken but only because he doesn’t want to fall in the water

loves aesthetic cocktails served in fruits and drinks them the whole day

probably the best at making cocktails too

has a timer set for when he has to reapply sunscreen and asks you (and only you) to help him apply it

also forces you to wear sunscreen 

Levi uses his expensive face sunscreen on his body and Asmo almost kills him

Beel:

the absolute grill master

he’s got 10 different things on the go, a beer in one hand and tongs in the other

challenges everyone to a game of chicken and refers to you as his ‘secret weapon’ to win

the Satan/Asmo duo get surprisingly close to winning but Asmo chips his nail and concedes

has one of those floaties that you can put drinks and snacks in and drags it along with him in the pool

lets you hang off his back while he swims

if you’re laying down on your towel he WILL come and shake the water off of himself on you like a dog

will only throw you in the pool if he 100% knows it won’t upset you

threatens the other brothers to do the same or face the consequences

forgets to put on sunscreen but somehow doesn’t burn???

comes out looking like a greek god

Belphie:

spends 90% of his time lounging on a pool float like the lazy mf he is

bats his eyes at you and asks you to bring him drinks everytime he finishes his

did not inherit Beel’s ability to tan and burns

five minutes in the sun and he becomes a lobster

only leaves his pool float to play one (1) round of chicken (that he loses) and if he gets too hot

also his pool floaty is definitely black and white like a cow

everytime he hears Satan lecture you about sunscreen he repeats it in a high pitched nerd voice 

belphie pls wear sunscreen

probably falls asleep on the floaty at least once until Beel comes and flips him into the water

if anyone splashes him he WILL retaliate to the fullest extent

compliments how you look in your bathing suit just to annoy Mammon 

steals everyone’s drinks if they leave them by the edge of the pool bcs he’s too lazy to grab his own

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Obey Me Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[ginnyw-potter]

Commenting etiquette

Yes, we do need to talk about it. And I'm not talking about the hateful comments, there are mean people everywhere. I'm talking about people who enjoy the fic but don't seem to get that across entirely.

I frequently hear other writers get so discouraged by unmindful comments and it's something I've experienced too.

And I absolutely do not want to get people scared to comment, because the majority of comments are good and wonderful, I just hope a few do's and don'ts help everyone along.

You do not know the writer and the writer doesn't know you Most of the time, you do not have any rapport going with the writer or very little, unless you are besties who are in each other's PMs. What that means

It is really difficult to guess people's tone and intentions from a few words in a comment box, especially if they're dubious. So don't make them dubious! It's so easy to say I like...., I enjoyed... Put it in there, please (more tips below)

You don't know what people are going through There can be about 700 reasons a writer doesn't update... maybe they don't feel like it, maybe life got in the way, sometimes people go an have babies, or their house burns down! The dreaded AO3 curse! So, be kind, always. You are getting free words. Writers do not owe you an update when you want, no matter what humongous cliff hanger they left you on

It's so easy to be misunderstood online.

"But I want an update!"

Yeah, I get it. you're excited! But asking for an update is hardly ever going to land well. What you can say instead of 'When do you update?' (or other, ruder, options and double question marks often come across as rude. leave them at home) is 'I am eagerly awaiting an update!' You're still letting them know you're filled with excitement for an update, but you're not demanding it. Important note: If you say this, please let it not be the only thing you write. Say a little more as to why. If you want an update, you surely know why.

... So how do you write a good comment?

(Obviously there are a lot of ways to write great comments, but here are a few pointers for people who get anxious leaving a comment.)

Say you are enjoying the fic or the chapter. it's so easy. This is the bare minimum if you comment, in my humble opinion I love this fic This chapter was amazing This fic lives in my head rent-free!

Point out things you liked or tell what the fic did with your emotions I really loved it when x went to x and confessed their love I was at the edge of my seat the whole time! Crying over this fic, it's so perfectly angsty

You can express sentiment about the further story, but do it well I can't wait to find out about x I will be wondering about x until next update I am so entranced, I am so excited to find out more about x When you update I'm going to be first in line to read!

Any other sentiments, a thank you note or the likes are nice, or leave more kudos by pasting in the more kudos images (it's so easy, and posts tend to have instructions) link here

Example of a good comment:

I love this fic so much I have literally not stopped reading until I was caught up When she was almost run over by the bus, my heart stopped and I was so relieved when she made it! I loved the bit where he helps her clean up the tea spill, so sweet and tender. I wonder how she's going to explain that tea stain to her evil stepmother.... Thank you so much for this update!

You can also install the floating AO3 box, and I love to use it to already comment on particular things I liked as I go so I don't forget, and it easily let's you copy-paste bits into the comment box so you can point out exactly what you liked about it.

A lot of people have started treating fics as something to consume and don't see the writer behind it, and it's so sad to see people recommend people to only read finished fics, that don't comment or only to ask when they are getting more words. (I know if you've read this far you're likely not one of those.)

And then they're surprised their favourite author stopped posting, when that author may think their fic isn't liked by you (because you never took the time to say) or they lose the enjoyment of posting because people just always simply demand more, more and more.

In summary, be kind to your writer. they're a whole person who is putting wonderful stories out for you for free. they likely have a day job or school to get to and a 100 worries you know nothing about. I'm not the comment police, I can't tell you what to comment but I just hope you take into consideration how your comment is going to be received by the writer on the other side.

[snowthatareblack]

His Sunshine

TW: mentions of death and dying, mourning, emotional pain, spoilers for one of the endings of ADWD (Despondent), spoiler of Grim's real name.

Inspired by: Die With A Smile, and The Night We Met. (So I recommend you listen to either one or both of these songs while reading!)

wc: 600+ words

The grim reaper had gotten used to the way the souls of mortals would glow and shine, the way the soul ember would float to his hand like a magnet once he had reaped their lives, the way that when the time comes when a mortals soul would leave their body, there were the rare percentage of bodies that would simply be reduced to ashes, that would blow in the wind and fall to the ground.

That was the grim reaper's job. He was death. He knew it.

And yet he would never get used to and forget the way his Sunshine had looked up at him, with a smile on their face, as the soul in their body slowly dwindled out, like a small fire weakly losing it's life and light.

“You win.” They had said, both the grim repear and his Sunshine knew this was it, this was the end of their bet, his Sunshine was dying. And that would mean he would win the bet.

He remembers how they were scared, not of death, not of dying, not of him, the grim reaper, but of leaving. Leaving their pet alone, leaving their life behind, leaving him behind?... And yet they had that smile on their face, the smile that he would always see through their video calls, the smile that would tease him all the time, making him- though he would never ever confess this in his ever immortal life- flustered and feel something, something different and new and weird.

The way their smile would come out as they laughed at their own jokes and the conversations that they had, the way it would make him feel, in awe and happy and make himself, smile as well. The way their smile, that goshdamn smile, was still on their face now, as they looked up at him with shining tears in their eyes, it was the same ever smile, and yet this last one was the most bittersweet.

Casper was crying, with his Sunshine, in his arms, painfully losing the light that lives inside of them, even though they represent light themselves. “Life is unfair. The only fairness is in death.” Is what he remembered saying. But now all he had was fear. Fear of losing them. Fear of losing his Sunshine. He was scared of losing his first and only love ever.

Because how could death be fair if it was taking away his one and only person forever?

“And, Casper?” They whispered lowly to him, he didn't even have to close his eyes and concentrate on the connection between them to know it was unraveling. The tug no longer being fully there anymore, just a distant spiritual touch despite the physical contact they were having in his Sunshine's last moments.

Even with his vision completely blurry, full of his tears that were streaming down his face without mercy nor bashfulness, they still looked absolutely captivating as ever.

“I... Think I really like you too—” And then they stopped. Frozen, but still with that sweet sweet smile on their face.

As their body started to fall apart and fall into bits because their soul was shattering in their body, the fractures spreading everywhere, inside and out. But instead of disintegrating into ashes like all the other mortals and souls Casper had reaped before, theirs glowed.

They floated in the air and shined like the light and life they were to him, every bit of them, slowly becoming the Life that they themselves have represented and was. They were like the sun, his Sunshine.

(Hello everyone on Tumblr! I am Snow and Casper has singlehandedly brought me back from my years of writers block hahaha, this was also inspired by one of my posts before about Despondent, one of the two bad endings in ADWD. Sorry if this might've been seen as rushed, especially the ending, but I feel like this all fits together in the end and for the possible typos. Thank you for reading!)

[hcdragonwrites]

Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

Ok! I ran this by Semi before I posted just because I know absolutely nothing about LMK (except the animation can be so pretty!) just so I could get their characters down. I hope you all like it !

She just wanted to escape- both from this place and from her own mind tonight.

The ghosts of memories were walking and she had no distractions to chase them away.

Peaches walked the cool cavern halls of Water- Curtain Cave, her feet echoing in the depths. The sandals she wore and the ornamental clothing she had been thrown into made her scalp prickle and her skin itch. It was too much- but the attendants wouldn’t hear a thing about it.

She had to look the part of Queen.

Peaches, in the absence of the Lord of the mountain and his right hand and sword, was the remaining voice of authority.

To a point.

Finishing with courtly duties and listening in on behalf of her husbands wasn't a huge chore. The two of them rarely left at the same time however. If one was called away the other would remain. Or Peaches herself would be brought along.

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

She had just this night- just this moment of reprieve and she would make the most of it. Or so she thought. Instead, she was fighting something that reared its head and struck her nerves like a asp.

However she wasn’t alone quite yet. As she rounded the corner and came to golden lacquered doors of her bedchamber - their bedchamber- she paused.

“Will that be all my queen?” One of the attending retinue of her guard asked. It was a guard her husbands insisted upon whenever both were away from home- a set of seven of the most battle scarred simians Peaches had ever seen.

They were tasked and sworn with following her everywhere - to the dining hall, to the throne room. If she wished to go and sit among the apple trees and listen to the wind play over the mountain grasses her guard would double in size. Peaches tried to not cause the denizens of Flower fruit mountain any more problems or stressors by going outside when both the King and his Brother in arms were away on a war path.

Her husbands.

It’s what they titled themselves now, after a decade of the terrible start they had on their relationship with her. When she had met the two, they had been just tiny monkeys. A sly looking ginger and gold monkey who had loved to cling to her arms and a dark black furred monkey that brought her fruits and almonds from the wild.

My sweet boys.

They had been her monkeys back then- the little prankster angels she had thought were just simple beasts, trying to survive out in the world.

She had been wrong.

The decision to upend her life, she guessed, had been floated around for months between the two disguised demons as they ate her fruit and enjoyed her touches. It was a mutual one that both had decided was the best option for her.

She took a steadying breath, coming back to the present. Peaches wanted a chance to be alone. Something so rare she craved it like a man in a desert craved water.

“Yes, general. I think I’ll retire early for the day.” She smiled at the monkey who dipped his body into a bow. The gleam of his armor set the flickers of a memory brewing. Fire in the trees, the smell of iron on the wind and a figure among the debris. She shook her head to dislodge it. The rest of them weren’t awful to her. Her husbands weren’t awful to her. They had just ….

Taken away her decisions.

“Very well Queen.” Peaches flinched, unable to quite stomach the title and what that truly meant. If I am queen then why am I without choices? “If you need us call us.”

She turned the handle in the door and slipped in side with as much grace as she could muster.

Peaches closed the ornamental doors to the bedroom, resting her head against the door. Steady. Deep breaths. In through her nose out through her mouth.

The illusion of a paradise that Wukong had built and Macaque helped facilitate always lost its color and believability when they were away. They couldn’t feed her the sugared lies and candied perceptions to tamp back the memories of that night.

It had been just another night on the small farm - a June night of heat and singing cicadas- of windows wide open and Peaches trying to escape that heat. There wasn’t much she could do to escape it. The moisture clung to her and made her bedding stick and clog her nose. So on these nights she stayed up, usually with a candle or the moon to illuminate her night, and read.

The knock on the door was not something typical.

The memory was rising and she couldn’t hold it back. I have to ride it out. Survive it.

Like she had survived that night. Getting visitors in the dead of the night had been unconventional- and she remembered the feeling of being perturbed. Don’t answer it, she told the memory. But this was the past and ghosts of the past didn’t change their course.

She had closed her book, had stepped down the hall to the door and had opened it.

I should have called through- told him to stay away! I should have never left my bed or my book.

It was a drunk man. A fellow farm hand called in for one of the families to help bring in a harvest that had proved too bountiful for the immediate family to handle. Peaches could see the man before her eyes, smell the reek of him.

A drunk.

“Well ain’t it the village spinster! Whaaa da pretty thing you are!” He was a cloud of bitter rice wine, of too much sake on his breath. The intensity of it had a physical effect on her memory and in the present, Peaches wrinkled her nose.

“You should go home Sir.” She had told him- tried to close the door.

His foot moved faster and his hands had caught the door.

A wild set of emotions swept through her. She had to sit her body down, thankful she had been able to get away from the other monkeys before the memory seized her like a vice. They would have been in a panic over her and she couldn’t let their little hearts worry so. There was nothing they could do to stop the remembering.

It was his fault this all happened. It was His. He didn’t have to be drunk and show up at my home- he didn’t have to shove his way into my house and try and grab me.

But he was just a single man. Did his actions warrant the destruction that happened next ?

“Get out!” Her memory self cried. The wooden table she danced behind as the drunk stumbled and moved towards her, was her only shield.

“The Boys Said you prefer the company of wild animals …” his speech was hard to hear. The wine had made him bold, stupid, and aroused it seemed. “I thought I would give you mtaste of what a real man was, since the villagers are al’ ‘fraid of your Witchery with monkeys.”

She had run- she had thrown her things at him. It was probably the commotion of her breaking a pitcher over his head that had alerted her monkeys. The loud clatter of the pottery across the floor had sounded so sharp and final. It had only made the man more determined.

The drunk when he did get his hands on her was furious. He swung a fist and sent stars into her eyes. Peaches had clung like a wildcat to her conscious, kicking out with legs and swinging with fists. Her nose was full of the sour smell of him- had felt his hands and fought them. A kick to his groin had sent him wheezing. Another fist to her head had Peaches crying. She had stared that drunk in his mean little eyes as he whispered the terrible things he wanted to do to her.

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

He never got to touch more than her arms that night.

Peaches heard something step through the door that had been left open to the night. She had heard the creak of her house as something walked within it. And the sound of something- like a water skin being popped and a splash of warm liquid against her belly had shocked her.

The Drunks eyes went wide with confusion, rolling horselike in his head. His bruising grip on her wrist had let go. In the present, She rubbed those wrists, the phantom pains hard.

“..mah… belly.” The drunk had mumbled then belched a bucket of blood onto the floor. Peaches could see something protruding from his middle- something long and thin like a stick. Or a staff.

Clawed hands pulled the head back and twisted with a fury. The sound of bones breaking was loud, as if a fire was consuming dry wood. The drunk crumbled in those hands like a puppet cut free of its strings.

A new stranger stood in her home, his frame large and broad and most assuredly not human. He tossed the body like someone would toss a rag across the floor. The glowing eyes in the sudden dark were all she could see. Her mind, even in its heightened adrenaline drenched state, recognized the face pattern, saw a familiarity in the fur. There was, in fact, still a little flower tucked against this demonic creatures ear. The same flower she had interwoven in her forest friend's fur that afternoon.

“Your… your my…”

Nerves and the come down from the adrenaline high we’re making speech hard. The monkey demon before her, who’s eyes seemed to spit fire, softened. Just a bit.

“You are my Peaches.” Wukong said, touching her hair, her face, her hands. Taking stock. Then he had taken those limp hands and threaded them through his fur, trying to get them to grip. It would help his own rage and calm her fear. It was thick in the air, ruining the natural sweet smell she had. That and the slab of flesh on the floors own fetid death scent.

Wukong was not the best at this - this comfort thing. But he would rise to the occasion. He would try for her.

Fury and rage made his tail lash and the fur along his neck to stand on end.

At first she had just been a simple human that would leave little offerings to him and his brother in arms. An oddity here in the shadow of his mountain. Most humans around here feared the monkeys and kept away from all of them, having a legend that if one was harmed a great calamity would befall them.

Wukong didn’t mind being that calamity. These were his people, his subjects. So hearing the chatter from some of his kind that a women had begun to leave out gifts had of course spiked the Kings curiosity. The humans beneath Flower Fruit Mountain were his lesser subjects. So he had come down from the mountain, disguising himself as a smaller and more approachable sized monkey, to see the fuss his subjects had started gossiping about at groomings. Only to see his brother, Macaque, already being petted and tended and kissed on each of his six ears.

Of course first impressions had been terrible and Wukong, used to getting the first pick of everything, had come screeching into the clearing and demanding his own pets. It had set off a very small and very mock little battle between the two brothers in arms. One that had Peaches separating them and scolding them as she patched up the little scratches they had taken from eachother. They could have each resisted her pull but both decided that play acting a fight, even if it had started as a bit of one, was the best way to get attention divided between the both of them.

Wukong hadn’t expected to become infatuated. Her name didn’t matter to him- he had rebranded her almost the instant she came to him and offered a smile and held out a handful of sugar and dates. Peaches. After the Kings own favorite fruit, the sweetest thing the mountain produced.

His Peaches.

Of course also Macaques. He shared everything with his brother, the dark furred and six eared demon who had faced battles and won wars besides Wukong. While Wukong had been more leery, Peaches won him over faster than Flower Wine loosened his rigid posture. They had both fallen for this mortal women. And, in the traditional way she belonged to them. She just didn’t know it yet. They had touched and groomed and cuddled and tangled limbs and tails. They were practically married without the marriage bit.

Wukong rubbed small circles into Peaches back, trying to keep himself from bearing his teeth in rage.

I should have taken her home the moment she kissed me.

They had been kisses of the kind one gives to a friend or pet. It had left the warlord craving more burning with more.

Of wanting to feel her give him more than just a chaste kiss on the side of his face.

She wouldn’t have been hurt if he had just taken her home.

Wukong and Macaque had taken to one or both spending the night in Peaches trees, to keep an eye on her. Wukongs obsession had grown into a fascination and warm buttery love. A love that was becoming a wild inferno as he fought to stay still and not leap upon the corpse he had made and turn it into nothing but bits of flesh and gore the crows could carry away.

His Peaches fingers finally grasped his fur and shook. It brought Wukong back from his montage of rage to the present. If only Mac was here — but he wasn’t. He was back at home on Flower Fruit mountain , giving his brother the night to enjoy and keep lookout at Peaches den.

“That’s my girl.” The demon tried to soothe. He really wished he could set Peaches down and finish off what he had started. This place had been bad. This village terrible. He hated every thing and one here that had dared to let a drunken fool up to his Peaches doorstep and allowed this to happen. In reality Wukong was mad it had been Mac’s own sense of importance on taking it slow and letting a little thing like a life outside of Flower Fruit Mountain stop him from from revealing who he was and taking her home.

I am done trying to woo her over slowly. They could have lost her this night if Wukong hadn’t been in earshot, hadn’t heard the crash of something breaking. His clawed hands wrapped around her back and beneath her legs. Before he could realize it, Wukong had her up and in his arms, already stepping on and across the corpse and out into the June air. Mine.

“Let’s get you home, lovely.” Wukongs voice was thick with emotion. Relief to finally, finally, finally have an excuse to take his wife home, to see her sleep in a real bed and eat real food made his heart swell. No more pretending. No more longing. It was happening now. Simmering beneath that emotion was the sweet bubble, the red misting rage, of violence. Once he got her home, got her safe, got her tangled within some of his and Macaques blankets to where the sour smell of fear would be lost within the scent of them- he could come back. He would come back.

He would destroy the village for being the obstacle it was in his conquest for this mortal girls heart. It was in itself, a relief to know he was justified in its destruction.

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

Peaches was shaking. Clinging to him. I would have her cling to me always. He pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in as he walked off. She smelled so good. He rubbed his face to hers, affectionately smothering her fear scent. Wukong felt a smile curl his face. Finally. We can go home and put the charade to bed. Finally you are mine.

Peaches' memory of that night was mostly of clinging to Wukong as they flew through the air, of his voice a rumble of soft words and comforts. He was holding her close, pressing her in. Smothering her in a sense. But she needed it. She clung to it in a way to stop herself from being sick from fright. It was strange but familiar to hold this fur, to cling. Then she briefly remembered another voice, another set of hands. When she looked up and saw that her sweet dark monkey was also here, had also been a demon in disguise, something broke in her. Maybe hysteria. Maybe disbelief. Or maybe she knew, somewhere in her mind, that no matter what she said now wouldn’t save the people- the innocents- in her village.

Peaches had been transferred into the dark arms and THATS where she finally began to cry. The shock was fading and leaving behind ragged holes of emotion.

“Safe, you're safe now.” She was reassured. Hands had lifted her chin, her sweet little monkey- now a demonic one- was gently beginning to sponge away the blood from the cuts on her face. Her cheek swelled, her eye with it.

“Please don’t kill them.” She begged. “He already took care of the one who hurt me don’t kill my village.”

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

Silence. Something cold pressed to her face- a bit of snow from far up the mountain wrapped in cloth. Macaques ears twitched like flower petals in the night air.

“It’s already done. The village is already gone.”

The memory rode itself out in the present and faded slowly.

Guilt washed over her and she cried all for a new reason. She had been the catalyst for Sun Wukongs fury. She had been the decider to his want of destruction. Peaches may not have killed them, may have had a decade to realize that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but Wukong had done it in her name. He had erased that village and all its people like a cartographer reshapes a map. To all the rest of the world, their had never been a village in the shadow of Flower fruit mountain. Not a foundation, not a brick, not even a spare hair, was left of humanity there. Instead it had been cleared as if a fire had swept through. Peaches had seen it on one occasion when Wukong had been persuaded to show her. She had needed closure. Needed the peace.

Once she had healed she had been told her village was gone. She had been given a sweet lie- that Wukong had gone back and the villagers related to the drunk had been ransacking her house to see where she kept the money or any spare wine.

When Wukong had shown up demanding they answer to the crime committed in her home, they had attacked. Wukong had enacted a king's justice as was his right. He had told the remaining villagers to leave- to never set foot upon his domain again for the lawlessness that had been enacted upon their neighbor.

It had taken two years for her to be able to relax whenever he came in smelling of fire and iron. It had taken a few years more for her to remember what Macaque had said when he had pressed snow to her face.

They were the same little monkeys they had been before. But now they had less innocence when they pressed into her face for kisses, when they asked to tangle and cuddle limbs. They insisted she stay in the bedchamber and not move to her own separate room.

It had taken getting used to movement beside her as a hand tugged her hair, or a tale twined her waist. Or a leg curled with hers or hands holding her face. Sometimes in the dark Mac would press his head to her back, using her as a pillow. Wukong would yank her in when he thought her too sleepy to remember and whisper all the things he loved about her.

It would have been sweet. It was touching in a way. If not for the way they revealed themselves. If not for that memory and what she knew now had come after.

It had not taken too long after that for her to start realizing that, though Wukong had saved her, neither of them had any regret of what happened. Neither of them was going to let her go.

When she asked about it or started talking of missing her home- the simple living, the ability to really on herself and choose for herself- Wukong would laugh and launch into one of his tales. He would brush her hair with his claws, run his face against hers and try and deflect her attention to new things.

Macaque, if Wukong was absent, would let her talk. Usually it happened when he asked her to brush his fur or he in turn asked to brush her hair. Peaches thought, just a bit, that the reason Mac was better at listening was for all the ears he had. Each time however, when she got to the part about how this had been her fault, he would stop mid way through a braid or pin and pull her in. Macaque would kiss the tears from her eyes, would press himself close to her chest.

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

“I remember. I remember he went back- you said he—“

“Hush love you’ll grow hysterical. What Wukong did was justified- he defended you.”

“He killed.”

“I have killed.” He kissed her temple, gentle in his reprimands. He wouldn’t try and brush her words beneath a rug like Wukong. Instead he gave her a smile as wide as the crescent moon. “Let’s finish your hair and get you dressed. We can go see the baby’s, I know how you love the baby’s.” Baby monkeys were her weakness. They had been what led to her loving Mac before she had known he was a demonic warlord.

Peaches rubbed at her eyes and stood, the sorrow in her heart heavy still but the tears at least had stopped. Now she was just tired. Tired and cold and wanting to escape the feeling of it all. So she shed her courtly attire. All the clips and jewels and baubles and bits felt heavy. She placed them within the box at her armoire, then loosened her hair from its bindings. Jade pins, pearl necklaces, golden bracelets with bells of silver (Wukong loved this the best of all) all glimmered back in the firelight.

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

On nights like this, she wanted to wear nothing but her smock, her simple clothing, and bury herself as far as she could go into the bed she shared with her husbands.

It was more of a pit set into the ground, circular in nature. Silken pillows, red sheets and a hoard of anything plush and furred had been thrown into the pit. It was also a snug place to bury herself within and one of the few things she didn’t feel resentment too right away. When the outside felt too bright and she couldn’t go about the mountain to her usual quiet places, she would retire here. To burrow, to bury, to hide.

Peach fell back into the pit of blankets and pillows and pulled herself beneath a fur of some striped monster Macaque had skinned and gifted to her. Tonight the bitter truth was hard to swallow and did circles in her head.

You did this. You caused this. You killed them. This is your fault.

She closed her eyes and hoped … hoped for what might be the worst thing yet. Her husband's return.

A time later she stirred. Something was in her room- was walking to the bed. Peaches felt a flutter of fear before hands reached into her hiding place and simply slid her out.

“Hello darling.” The silken voice belonged to none other than Macaque. His clawed hands entwined around her waist, his teeth nipping at her ear. “You are up late.”

“Does that mean it will be a late morning?” Wukongs voice came from the other side of the room. Peaches could see the ginger monkey removing armor from his shoulders and stretching. As the darker brother kept making a snack of her shoulder, Peaches noticed that the shine of Wukongs paldrom was dimmed. Something black coated the golden imprint of sunbursts across its armored surface. “I love late mornings! Means more time together.”

Blood?

“Peaches?” She turned her head, trying to see Mac. He had left off nipping her skin. A hand came away from her wrist and tipped her chin, forcing her to stare directly into his violet eyes. “What has upset you?”

Everything. Myself. Wukong. You. It was that simple question that set her sorrow to flowing again. She was confused, upset, and she wanted comfort. The only ones who could give her comfort were the very ones who caused her distress.

A vicious cycle.

The pillows behind her sagged. Wukongs hands were more aggressive in their touches, turning her about to stare into her face. He noted the tears, the bruising beneath her eyes. His lip curled in anger.

“Has someone upset you?” Wukong asked. He seemed ready to stand again, to grab his armor and step out into the night. “I will drag them here to give an apology. You name them and I will fetch them.”

Peaches shook her head.

“Just ….” You killing the villagers, Macaque telling me plainly that it was for the best, and my own head making me relive that night of events. Over and over and over.

“…. Myself.”

His face softened as he chirped a reassurance, pressing his nose to hers. Macaque peppered her in gentle and butterfly soft kisses to the back of her neck. The three fell back into the nest, limbs entwined and hands holding. Macaque had Peaches face buried in his chest as she sobbed silently. He cooed. He whispered how everything would be right as rain in the morning. His hands ran through her hair and messaged her scalp. Wukong held his Peaches, pressing her back to his chest in a solid wall against the world outside. He lavished her in praises and compliments, sometimes getting carried away and talking about himself until his brother would remind him with a flick to his forehead that it was their Peaches he should be reassuring.

And through it all, through this twisted and tangled weave of limbs and fur and warmth and sorrow, Peaches felt love. It grew in this dark place still, wanting to thrive. But how could it?

Still she fell asleep, lashes sparkled with tears and her heart lighter. One could only be sad so long in the wake of such waves of attention. Wukongs and Macaques love was the only solution to this ailment they had inflicted upon her, and she, the addict, swallowing the medicine that would give her release.

[rbr4c1ng]

Hii! I was wondering if you could maybe explain the bus bros fallout or p2p gate or pretty much all of the McLaughlin-Newgarden lore to me since I'm only getting in to IndyCar now and I want to be caught up before the 500. I understand this is a big ask but I've seen that youve posted about it and I just NEED to know. Any links to other pieces of lore would also be much apreciated. Completely understand if you don't want to write anything though so thank you so much I advance!! <3

YES ABSOLUTELY I WILL EXPLAIN! this is my special interest dw i could write an 18 page essay about their lore.

SO basically scott came into indycar from supercars in 2020-2021 ish and him a josef started getting along like super well, which is honestly a bit odd bc josef is known to not really let people get so close to him, so scotty is a bit of an outlier in that respect.

eventually! they make bus bros!!! wooooo everyone loves it etc etc they have fun making it…. until they don’t! leading up to their breakup there were QUITE a few clues that they knew it was gonna end in flames like scott talked about it on off track (see audio excerpt below) and on hot seats with hinch if i remember correctly?

there’s also a fair share of articles that mention it. they basically knew it was inevitable but i don’t think anyone thought it was gonna happen so quickly??

so then the winter break leading into the 2024 szn happened! this is about when i started getting really into bus bros and was honestly pretty present for some of this shit (i was at the daytona 24 and st pete so i’ve got some first hand evidence but we will get to that later)… anyways so the rumors start going around that bus bros is over around?? st pete time i think??? a little bit earlier. which is odd given that they seemed okay with each other at the daytona 24, even though i thought it was strange that they weren’t both on tower motorsports anymore cause josef switched to penske porsche but GENERALLY it seemed okay (although based on this pic idk their relationship seems a little charged atp but it’s all speculation really)

then after the rumors come out i think it was jenna fryer’s article that did it in? (idk it has a paywall on it for me right now and i don’t care enough to find it here but there’s definitely excerpts floating around) now i do recommend to take anything jenna fryer says with a grain of salt bc she is essentially a gossip columnist for all intents and purposes. but the article basically said that josef and scotty were done and scott wouldn’t answer any questions about it and was only saying that they’re fine or to ask josef about it (tea from todays 100 days to indy episode actually…). they promptly took down the bus bros merch site and have been relatively quiet since then. at st pete they talked on the podium and didn’t seem too bad but i’ve seen other clips where they won’t even sit next to each other or speak to each other so take that as you will. podiums are pretty much just publicity, cameras everywhere, you’d probably want to seem at least cordial with your teammate.

(pic 1 is mine, pic 2 is a pic of my tv from todays episode LMFAO)

so heres where most of the speculative stuff comes in. Josef dissolved his media company, unfollowed everyone, and cancelled bus bros leading into the 2024 season because he wanted to “get rid of distractions”, and really we could leave it at that, but i find it hard to believe that that’s the only thing that happened.

Josef is the dictionary definition of Penske Perfect, you won’t get any closer to it than him. he’s fucking OBSESSED with this idea of being perfect. perfect season, perfect body, perfect car, perfect team. obviously this isn’t feasible, but scotty seemed to have broken through that block in his little Penske Perfect brain and got him to LIGHTEN UP A BIT. and then the 2023 season happened. sure, josef won the indy 500 but it was one of his worst season finishes in a while and, to make matters worse, scott BEAT him. little scotty mac, supercars champion transplant from 2021 beat josef newgarden at his own fucking game after breaking down his walls and making him soft. i can see how that scared josef honestly. so he ended it. Scott doesn’t see things on a plane of winning/losing imo, everything is just experience for him. hell, he didn’t even know if he would end up in indycar and he sure as hell didn’t think he’d win races so soon AND beat his teammate. to josef, it’s JUST winning/losing. if he’s losing, he needs to be better. and he lost sight of that for the 2023 season. that’s why he had to come back and put an end to the shenanigans bc he knows scott makes him soft.

but that’s just my speculation!!!!! literally could just be nothing. maybe it is to josef, but i know for a FACT it isn’t to scott.

OH and with the p2pgate stuff! basically they had a component in their car that. was not supposed to be there! that prevented race control from turning off their push to pass like normal. (marshall pruitt has a rlly good article explaining it all here) and they were caught in long beach when race control forgot to turn on the push to pass during the sunday warm up and HMMMMM why do the penske cars still have it???? when has this happened before??? oh ok st pete! now they’re disqualified. josef used 9 seconds of p2p when it was not enabled and scotty only used 1.9 and will used none. so i’m led to believe that it was a josef-centered choice IF it was intentional to use the p2p when it was supposed to be inactive.

now josef really laid down the water works for that press conference at barber to the point that i was having a VERY hard time watching it. i felt bad for the guy. he seemed really fucking upset and i almost believe that it WASNT on purpose but. it’s just too good to be true right?

honestly i think this all could tie back to the downfall of bus bros in that scott maybe didn’t want to do the p2p thing but josef was willing to? and maybe that caused some sort of divide between them bc then again for josef it’s about Winning No Matter What, and yes scott wants to win but cheating isn’t the way for him. idk.

for more of their lore when they WERE friends, watch bus bros (duh), admit one, 100 days to indy, scott learns america: nashville, hot seats with hinch, and listen to scott’s episode on off track with hinch and rossi! also there are some very brief interactions between them on some older penske games videos before bus bros was even a thing but it’s not much. there are more but i can’t think of them rn…

sorry for rambling, if you have any more qs feel free to ask!!! i’m always available for brain picking :)

[moon-witchs-world]

Dress - Harry J. Potter

I don’t want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

Harry J. Potter x Fem!reader

~1,1K words Summary: After defeating Lord Voldemort Harry Potter wants nothing more than to be happy. To have an easy, simple life. Be boring for a while. Things have changed. The golden trio becomes a loved-up duo and leaves Harry spending more time by himself than he likes. Things with Ginny Weasley just didn’t work out, both of them have changed and they have gone their separate ways. He spends more and more time with you, his best friend and decides to ask you to be his plus one at Ron and Hermione’s wedding. 

Author’s note: this is pure, sickly sweet fluff inspired by the TS song Dress. Hope you enjoy, please leave me a comment or reblog, it makes my day! 

~~**~~

It would make me so happy to go to R&H’s  wedding together. Will you go with me?,’ Harry had written to you a few weeks earlier. You had written your reply with shaking hands.  I would love to, Harry. 

And so there you were on a sunny Spring day wearing a flowy, fairytale like dress that complemented all your curves, waiting for Harry Potter. 

Ron and Hermione were getting married today and you were beyond excited. You loved weddings. Adored them. There was something so magical and promising about two people dressed up to the nines, in front of all their loved ones, making vows that would last a lifetime. It was even more special when the people getting married were two of your best friends. 

You met Harry, Ron and Hermione when you were just eleven on your first day at Hogwarts. Being muggle born you didn’t know anyone who went to Hogwarts and you were so anxious. The trio was kind to you and accepted you into their little friend group. After the Wizarding War you remained closest to Harry. Ron and Hermione had finally confessed their love to each other and were making up for lost time by never leaving each other’s company or their home for that matter. 

During those post-war years you and Harry grew closer than ever and spent a lot of time together. He was the best friend anyone could ask for, but lately your feelings for him changed. You had fallen for the Chosen one. The man with the lightning shaped scar on his forehead and the fierce green eyes. The kind wizard who was seemingly unaware of the magnetic power he had on you. 

And then he asked you to go to the wedding together. Maybe he meant it just as friends, but you felt hopeful. Maybe today you were finally going to be brave enough to confess your feelings. 

You arrived before Harry did and had some time to take in the beautiful scenery. The wedding would take place outside, in the idyllic backyard of Bill and Fleur’s Shell Cottage. There were wildflowers everywhere and champagne flutes floated through the air. You grabbed one and took a sip. Maybe a bit of liquid courage was exactly what you needed. 

A faint pop behind you startled you and when you turned around you felt a mixture of comfort and anxiety when you saw Harry Potter had appeared behind you. 

‘Forgive me for being late. You look absolutely gorgeous,’ he said after pressing a kiss on your cheek. You hoped he didn’t notice you blushing just a little. When you replied, he was still staring at you.

‘No problem, I only just arrived. You look very handsome as well, Harry,’ you answered. His dark green dress robes made his eyes pop even more and his hair wasn't as messy as usual. You liked his messy, raven coloured hair that never seemed to want to behave in a certain way and you had to resist the urge to run your hands through his hair to mess it up a bit more. 

‘Please, everyone, take your seats. The ceremony is about to begin!’ Mrs. Weasley said rather agitated and you and Harry both went and took a seat at the front. 

The ceremony was intimate and beautiful. You were sure Ron had had a bit too much to drink before, he slurred his words a bit during his vows and his posture was a bit unsteady. Hermione looked radiant, even more beautiful than on a normal day. 

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you thought you felt Harry’s eyes wander to you at least a couple of times during the ceremony. You were very aware of your upper legs touching ever so slightly and when you wiped away a few happy tears, he squeezed your hand softly. 

When Ron and Hermione were officially husband and wife and the newlyweds were sharing a passionate kiss, everyone got up and cheered. 

‘Let’s celebrate!’ Ron yelled enthusiastically. The chairs were magicked away which made space for a dancefloor. Harry took your hands and the both of you started to dance. You let him lead you over the dancefloor, never breaking eye contact for longer than a few seconds. After a while you two decided it was time to take a break and have a drink. Harry took two glasses of champagne from one of the floating trays and gave you one. You stood there in silence for a moment, looking at Ron and Hermione, locked into a tight embrace in the center of the dancefloor. 

‘You’re my best friend. I’m glad we’re here together,’ Harry suddenly said with a beaming smile. You had always been proud to call someone as kind and authentic as Harry Potter your best friend, but now the words hurt you. They felt empty. Not anything close to what you actually felt for him. 

‘I don’t want to be your best friend,’ you heard yourself say. His eyes widened in confusion and a few wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he frowned. 

‘Well, I mean, I like being your best friend. But I want to be more,’ you said so quietly it was no more than a whisper. Harry grabbed your hand and leaned in a bit. 

‘Well, to be honest, I didn’t ask you to come with me as a friend,’ he said with a slight flush on his cheeks. You looked at him in disbelief. Could it be? Could your feelings for Harry be mutual?

‘Is it weird to ask you to be my girlfriend at our best friends’ wedding?’ You giggled. 

‘I don’t know, maybe you should try it.’ 

Harry took a deep breath, straightened his back and took both your hands in his, in a way very similar to the way Ron and Hermione had stood before them not too long ago. 

‘My lovely best friend. Would you mind if I started to call you my girlfriend from now on?’ 

‘That would make me very happy,’ you answered. Harry looked relieved and then came a bit closer. His face was just inches away from you. 

‘I guess that since you’re my girlfriend now, I finally get to kiss you.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ you said with a smile on your face. He leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Even though you had fantasized about this moment for so long, it was way better in reality. His lips were softer than you could have imagined and the touch of them woke a million butterflies that had been sleeping in your stomach.  

‘Okay, now let’s go and find a place where I can take off that dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous, but I think I like what’s underneath it even more,’ he said with a mischievous smile. 

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn, female reader

chapter summary: cooking, cleaning, walks on the beach, and secret drawings

Chapter Eight

As you drive home, your mind drifts to Daniel’s powers and the brothers’ hard journey to Mexico. Despite the initial shock, you feel a sense of awe and respect for their resilience. Their story is one of survival, courage, and unbreakable bonds, and you’re grateful to be part of their lives now. You ponder on how extraordinary it is to know someone with such unique abilities and the strength it took for them to get here. It's a tale that could inspire anyone, and it fills you with a sense of optimism about what the future holds for all of you.

The next morning, you wake up feeling refreshed and eager to see Sean and Daniel again. You decide to visit the Diaz garage, this time with a plan to spend the day together. As you approach the garage, you notice the door is slightly ajar, and you can hear the faint sounds of clattering and laughter from inside.

Curious, you push the door open and step inside. The sight that greets you is both endearing and chaotic. The kitchen is a complete mess. Flour is scattered everywhere, mixing bowls are tipped over, and what looks like an attempted batch of cookies has gone horribly wrong, resulting in blackened, misshapen blobs on a baking tray.

Sean and Daniel are standing in the middle of the chaos, covered in flour and laughing at their failed culinary attempt. Sean notices you first and gives you an embarrassed smile. “Uh, surprise?” he says sheepishly.

You can’t help but laugh at the scene. “What happened here?”

Daniel grins, wiping his flour-covered hands on his jeans. “We wanted to make something special for you. Turns out, baking is harder than it looks.”

Sean chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we might have bitten off more than we could chew. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”

You walk over, smiling warmly at them both. “Absolutely. And I appreciate the effort. How about we clean this up together?”

Sean and Daniel exchange a glance, and then Daniel’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint. “I think we can make that happen a bit faster,” he says.

With a wave of his hand, Daniel uses his telekinetic powers to lift the scattered ingredients and utensils into the air. You watch in amazement as the kitchen begins to clean itself, flour dusting off surfaces and bowls and spoons floating back to their rightful places. Within moments, the kitchen is spotless, and you can’t help but applaud Daniel’s impressive control.

“Wow, that was incredible!” you exclaim. “I think you just revolutionized cleaning.”

Daniel grins proudly. “It’s definitely useful for situations like this.”

Sean steps closer, giving you a grateful look. “Thanks for being so understanding. We wanted to do something nice for you, and we kind of made a mess instead.”

You smile, feeling a warm rush of affection for both of them. “The effort means a lot. And hey, at least we got a clean kitchen out of it.”

Sean laughs, reaching out to take your hand. “How about we try something a bit simpler for lunch? Maybe a nice, easy pasta dish?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Sounds perfect. Let’s do it.”

Sean and Daniel exchange determined looks. “Alright, team, let’s conquer the kitchen once more,” Sean declares, a playful glint in his eyes.

Daniel grins and wiggles his fingers dramatically. “This time, with a little telekinetic assistance.”

As you move to the counter, Sean pulls out a bag of pasta and a jar of tomato sauce. “We’ll keep it simple. We can’t possibly mess up pasta, right?”

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “Famous last words. Let’s see how you handle boiling water first.”

Sean raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Hey, I’m a pro at boiling water. Watch and learn.”

As Sean starts filling a pot with water, you and Daniel begin gathering ingredients for a salad. “So, Daniel, any other tricks up your sleeve?” you ask, curious about his powers.

Daniel smirks, lifting a few tomatoes into the air with a casual wave of his hand. “Oh, you know, just the usual—cutting veggies with my mind.”

You watch in amazement as the tomatoes slice themselves neatly in mid-air, landing perfectly in the salad bowl. “That’s impressive! You’re like a living kitchen gadget.”

Sean glances over, trying to hide his smile. “Just don’t get too comfortable, Daniel. We still need to make sure the pasta doesn’t end up as a sticky mess.”

You catch Sean’s eye, and the playful banter continues. “Sean, you focus on the pasta. I’ll make sure Daniel doesn’t turn this kitchen into a scene from a sci-fi movie.”

“Deal,” Sean replies, giving you a wink. “But if I manage to cook the perfect pasta, I get extra brownie points.”

“Deal,” you say, laughing. “But only if you don’t overcook it.”

As the water starts to boil, Sean carefully adds the pasta, stirring it with exaggerated precision. “See? Boiling water—mastered.”

You clap your hands, pretending to be impressed. “I’m amazed. Truly, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Daniel finishes the salad with a flourish, and you help him set the table. “Alright, Sean, moment of truth,” Daniel says, peeking over Sean’s shoulder.

Sean drains the pasta and mixes it with the sauce, a proud look on his face. “And voila, pasta à la Sean.”

You and Daniel applaud, and Sean takes a dramatic bow. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

Sitting down to eat, the three of you share the meal amidst laughter and light-hearted conversation. The pasta, surprisingly, turns out delicious, and you can’t help but compliment Sean. “Okay, I admit it. You did a great job.”

Sean grins, leaning back in his chair. “Told you. I’m a man of many talents.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you tease, enjoying the warmth and camaraderie.

After lunch, the kitchen is once again a mess, but this time it’s a happy, manageable chaos. You roll up your sleeves, ready to tackle the cleaning. “Alright, team, let’s clean up. And Daniel, feel free to use your powers for this.”

Daniel’s eyes light up as he nods. “On it.”

With Daniel’s telekinesis, cleaning becomes a breeze. Plates and utensils float to the sink, where they wash themselves, and leftover ingredients find their way back to the fridge. You watch in awe as the kitchen tidies itself up in no time.

“This is the easiest cleanup ever,” you remark, shaking your head in amazement.

Sean wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Welcome to life with the Diaz brothers. It’s never boring.”

As the kitchen sparkles once more, Sean turns to you with a gentle smile. “How about we take a walk along the beach? Clear our heads a bit?”

You nod, feeling the warmth of his invitation. “I’d love that.”

Daniel waves you off with a grin. “Have fun, you two. I’ll hold down the fort here.”

Sean grabs your hand and leads you outside. The sun is beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over the horizon. As you walk hand in hand along the beach, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore brings a sense of calm.

“How are you handling all of this?” Sean asks after a while, his tone serious yet gentle. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the cool sand beneath your feet. “It is a lot. But I’m trying to understand it all. It’s just... so incredible and overwhelming at the same time.”

Sean squeezes your hand, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or scared. If you have any questions, or if anything doesn’t make sense, just let me know.”

You stop walking and turn to face him, your heart swelling with affection. “I appreciate that, Sean. It’s definitely a lot to process, but I trust you and Daniel. And I want to be here for you, no matter what.”

A smile tugs at Sean’s lips, and he pulls you into a warm embrace. “That means the world to us. To me.”

You continue your walk, and as the conversation drifts to lighter topics, you both dip your feet into the cool water, laughing at the sensation. The playful waves lap at your ankles, and you feel a sense of freedom and connection.

“Look!” Sean points to a cluster of shells glistening in the wet sand. “Want to look for some sea shells?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Let’s see who can find the most beautiful one.”

As you both search for shells, the friendly competition turns into more playful banter. You hold up a particularly pretty shell. “I think I’ve got a winner.”

Sean chuckles, examining the shell closely. “Not bad, but check this one out.” He hands you a delicate, spiral-shaped shell that shimmers in the fading light.

“Okay, you win,” you laugh, handing it back to him. “That’s beautiful.”

Sean grins, pocketing the shell. “A memento of our walk.”

You sit down on the sand, close enough for the waves to occasionally splash your feet. Sean sits beside you, and you both watch the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange.

Sean turns to you, his expression soft and sincere. “I’m really glad you’re here with us. With me.”

You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Me too, Sean. This feels... right.”

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the ocean, you and Sean make your way back to the Diaz house. The cool evening breeze carries the salty scent of the sea as you step onto the veranda, settling into the comfortable chairs that overlook the tranquil water.

Sean stretches out beside you, his gaze wandering over the horizon. “This is nice,” he says, his voice soft and content.

You nod, taking in the peaceful scene. “It really is. The perfect end to a perfect day.”

Sean reaches into his bag and pulls out a well-worn sketchbook, its edges frayed from years of use. “I haven’t had much time to draw lately,” he admits, running a hand over the cover. “Life’s been... busy.”

Your eyes light up with excitement. “Well, tonight you do. Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

Sean hesitates, a shy smile playing at his lips. “I don’t know...”

“Please?” you plead, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. “I’d love to see you draw. It’s been a while since you’ve done something just for yourself.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. You win.” He flips open the sketchbook, revealing a blank page. “What should I draw?”

“How about the ocean?” you suggest, leaning back in your chair. “It’s so beautiful tonight.”

Sean nods, his fingers deftly moving to grab a pencil. “The ocean it is.”

As Sean begins to sketch, you watch the focused expression on his face, the way his brow furrows in concentration, and the slight smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. You feel a warm sense of contentment, happy to see him immersed in his art.

Minutes pass, and the sound of the pencil scratching against the paper blends harmoniously with the gentle lapping of the waves. You close your eyes, letting the soothing sounds wash over you.

Little do you know, Sean’s eyes aren’t on the ocean. Instead, they flicker to you, capturing the serene expression on your face, the way your hair catches the fading light, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. He sketches quickly, trying to capture the moment without you noticing.

You open your eyes and catch him glancing at you, a hint of mischief in his gaze. “What?” you ask, smiling.

“Nothing,” Sean replies quickly, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Just making sure I’ve got the details right.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Let me see.”

“Not yet,” he says, holding the sketchbook protectively. “It’s not finished.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Alright, I’ll be patient.”

As the night deepens, Sean continues to sketch, stealing glances at you now and then. You sit in comfortable silence, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

Finally, Sean sets down his pencil, closing the sketchbook with a satisfied smile. “All done.”

“Can I see it now?” you ask eagerly.

“Not yet,” he says, his grin widening. “It’s a surprise.”

You pout playfully. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”

Sean leans back in his chair, his gaze returning to the ocean. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“For making me take the time to do this,” he replies. “I’d forgotten how much I love drawing. And for... well, just being here.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand, feeling a surge of affection. “Anytime, Sean. Anytime.”

As the stars twinkle overhead and the sounds of the night surround you, you both sit there, hand in hand, cherishing the moment and the promise of many more to come.

As the night grows late, the tranquil sounds of the ocean and the stars overhead signal that it’s time to call it a day. You stretch and stifle a yawn, feeling the contented tiredness settle in.

“I should probably head home,” you say softly, glancing at Sean. “Thank you for tonight, Sean. It was... perfect.”

Sean smiles warmly, standing up and walking you to your car. “Thank you for being here. Drive safe, okay?”

You nod, giving him a quick hug before getting into your car. “See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” Sean replies, watching as you drive off into the night.

Meanwhile, back at the Diaz house, Daniel is rummaging around in the living room when he stumbles upon Sean’s sketchbook, left carelessly on the coffee table. His eyes light up with curiosity as he picks it up, flipping through the pages filled with Sean’s artwork.

“Sean!” Daniel calls out, excitement evident in his voice. “You haven’t drawn anything in ages! Can I take a look?”

Before Sean can even respond, Daniel is already engrossed in the sketches, his fingers turning the pages eagerly. “Daniel, wait—” Sean tries to intervene, but his little brother is too absorbed to pay attention.

Then Daniel’s eyes land on the last drawing. He stops, his eyes widening as he takes in the intricate details of your face, captured perfectly on the paper. The surprise quickly shifts to a mischievous grin.

“Sean, you’re so, so in love with her!” Daniel teases, his voice dripping with playful exaggeration. He holds up the sketchbook, pointing to the drawing. “Look at this! You’re like a lovesick puppy!”

Sean’s cheeks flush crimson, and he snatches the sketchbook from Daniel’s hands. “Hey, give that back!”

Daniel laughs, not missing a beat. “Come on, Sean! You don’t draw someone like that unless you’re totally head over heels. Admit it!”

Sean tries to stay composed, but a shy smile tugs at his lips. “Alright, maybe I do like her. A lot. But you didn’t have to go snooping through my stuff, you know.”

Daniel’s grin softens into a genuine smile. “I think it’s cool, Sean. She’s great. And you’re happy. That’s what matters, right?”

Sean nods, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Daniel.”

Daniel wraps an arm around Sean’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “No problem, big bro. Now, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another day, and who knows what it’ll bring?”

As they head to their rooms, Sean can’t help but feel a sense of excitement and hope for the future. The night had been special, and with Daniel’s support, he felt more confident in the growing connection he shared with you.

authors note: I have been so busy lately and don't have much time for writing (which makes me sooo sad) but at least I can post this chapter to feed you at least something :) !

[paleoleigh]

I don't think I can take much more of this. The constant hate for Taika. The constant hate for us. The constant hate for OFMD. None of which is justified or even based on anything! I just keep wanting to cry. I hate this. I'm not even on Twitter or reddit or anything but here. I barely follow anyone at all. I don't go near the tags. And I still see it! One of the few I do follow, who I've followed for years, just reblogged an absolutely vile post full of misinfo about us and Taika and the show and now I'm ready to cry even more. All I want to do is look at meta and gifsets and bask in how much love and joy this awesome little show brought us all and I keep seeing all this horrible stuff. I hate it and I don't know what to do anymore.

Hi Anon - I wish I knew what to say to make things better. I understand completely where you're coming from though. I've been on this cursed site since at least 2012 and got anon hate for the first time this week solely because of OFMD.

There seems to be a trend lately - not just here but everywhere - to virtue signal by dunking on something "cringe", and people feel the need to justify their actions by clamoring for why it's actually morally right for them to be against it. It really fucking sucks.

But so many people have said this show has saved their lives or given them so much. We've raised over $10k for Palestine and $10k for other charities. We bought food and water for the actors striking this past year. We know the good we're capable of, and it hurts to see others take that in bad faith.

And as for Taika...dude just gets shit on constantly for literally nothing. Misinformation is absolutely rampant about him. My advice for all of this is to use the block button liberally and never go in the main tags. That's how I've avoided seeing a lot of the vile shit floating around here. And as always, my DMs are open if you need to chat. Take care of yourself friend 💜

[resuswhore]

I want to be in control, complete control, of my sickly lover whose heart is to weak and lungs to tired, their body over all being just far to fragile. I don't want to control them in your stock standard idea of control and domination that typically leans into darker elements like deprivation/punishment/etc. (cause while its not terrible, it just doesn't float my boat). no, I want to control them in a soft and caring manner; I want to control them because I want to keep them safe, to protect them from the world, to keep anyone from hurting them or tainting their already sick body.

I want to keep them tucked away somewhere, where the outside world can't hurt them, where I can be the only one their floaty eyes lay themselves on, where I am I the only one who sees their soft smiles and hears their gentle voice.

I want to keep him in a hospital-esque room, to keep him laid up in a hospital bed and in those pretty, baby blue hospital gowns, dwarfed by layers of thin blankets and soft white sheets. I want him entangled in lines and wires, constantly hooked up to a monitor, the soft beeping of the EKG filling the room. I want to be able to monitor every part of his being, I want to know about every beat of his heart, every breath his takes, everything.

I want to practically pounce on him every time his heart gets a little to so slow for my liking, straddling his bony hips (gonna make a post about how horny straddling makes me too), forcing a fraction of my weight into his brittle chest, locking my eyes on his as he gives into my care, head resting limply back on the pillow, his tired gaze cast through his lashes, as I control his most vital organ. I want to beg him to stay with me as I force his heart to beat faster and faster. I want to pump him full of morphine I dig more and more weight into his chest. I want him to offer me his lungs, letting me shove an airway down my throat, because as I much as I love to control and pleasure, he likes to give up and receive, letting me fill his lungs with my air, kissing his plump, pretty lips between each one.

I want to put him into long periods of bed rest where I have to do everything for him. I want to spend long days cuddling, listening to his heart, letting my hands rest over the small dip in his waist, feeling his ribs shift with each breath. I want to have to carry him around anywhere and everywhere he goes, even within his own room.

I want to use drugs to keep him at different degrees of haziness when his hearts too weak to support his consciousness, I want to use pacers when it refuses to pick up the pace, I want to keep him on oxygen so I know his lungs are getting all the air they can get. I want to hold his hands and promise him that I love him. I want to promise him that he's ok, because I'm here and I'm never gonna let him go.

I want to make him feel good on his good days, making his lashes flutter, alongside his heart, and pull sweet moans from his pretty chest. I want to repay him for how good he makes me feel. I want to fuck him until he can't think straight, till his heart can't take it, just so I can take care of him again.

all the while I want to be able to offer him time to have visitors, to leave the tranquil space I've created for him, and for him to not take up those offers, to want to stay with me and me only, to want to show me off, to show off how protective and loving I am on those rare occasions we do break from the norm. I want him to always have this gentle look in his eyes, to be in a constant state of submission, because he knows he doesn't have to fight for himself, that I'll do it for him, that I'll do all the hard work, his just has to lay there and look pretty, a knowing smile on his soft, kiss swollen lips.

I want that my life goal, my livelihood, my purpose; to take care of him, to keep him alive and happy and safe, to be his protector, to keep his heart beating no matter how badly it wants to stop. that would be the absolute dream.

[majimasleftasscheek]

Hi, im very sorry if this has already been answered or established somewhere else but im curious, with your Kazumaji stuff, around what time did they start dating (i.e. after the events of Yakuza 0 and all that) and how?

tbh, I dunno!

I don't really have an established date for that cuz sometimes I'm like man they'd be really cute during y0 and then other times I set it between post y0 and the beginning of y1. The latest they would start me thinks is some months after the events of y1 but in general it sorta depends on how I'm feeling and what silly scenarios play in my head

ideas under the cut tho 👀

if we're talking y0: I like to think Kiryu has to go to Sotenbori for some reason, be it business or he's there with Nishiki for some partying. he sees Majima at the Grand being depressed and is like "damn girl those bags under your eyes makes my dick go *boing sound effect*" and asks him out 🥺 Kiryu gets rejected immediately cuz Majima's in this cycle of 'I deserve nothing but pain and suffering' but Kiryu can't read the room so he is persistently showing up at the Grand despite Majima very obviously wanting to kick his ass. eventually he relents and goes on cute™ dates with Kiryu and realizes oof maybe human intimacy be kinda gucci

if between y0 and y1: Majima's fresh in his mad dog era starting shit with people just to be annoying and Kiryu's one of his targets mainly due to the events of y0. he's kinda like "lol this goober really did some important plot stuff, huh?" and his curiosity gets the better of him because Kiryu is an enigma who eats bugs and Majima cannot suppress his need to get some sense of understanding on this weirdo. in this timeline, it's more one-sided affection from Majima that comes in the form of stabbing while Kiryu is desperately trying to fight the gay allegations and failing. eventually he caves but it's a sorta unofficial, on and off thing that Kiryu doesn't really know how to evaluate for himself. Majima doesn't really care what they are since he's high on life atm and has a cute dude with big boobs on his arm

if during y1: literally just everything Majima Everywhere. Goromi. GOROMI 😩💦 Kiryu is all: I LIKE PUSSY but everyone's like okay big man then why's Majima pole dancing for you huh. the two braincells he has start to click and he realizes maybe Majima wants to hold hands or something unthinkable like that. ngl I like to think Kiryu's thing for Yumi is like a demisexual bi thing where he's like, I do love her but she don't zap my brain quite like the bowlcut freak who knows how to punch me real good and it becomes sorta his personal introspective journey during this time. Majima is also floating in the space of am I doing this for his benefit cuz "training" or am I falling for this dork. he's pretty sad about it cuz of the Saejima reminder vibes but eventually Kiryu falls into his own person that Majima really meshes with and the two of them struggle to actually voice how they feel all the while their pants are down in some dirty alley

if after y1: (going to insert shit from a fic I'm working on) Kiryu's absolutely devastated with what happened in the Millennium Tower + now having to take care of Haruka that he's shut himself off from everyone and everything other than doing the bare minimum to live. in comes Majima being a menace like yo you can't like, let a child parent herself you gotta get outta this slump and Kiryu's all fuck you stop breaking into my house. so it's a long pain in the ass process to help Kiryu deal with his grief while Majima keeps unintentionally making googoo eyes at him and both of them are like boy I sure hope this doesn't awaken anything within me. there's also a lotta dadjima stuff going on and Kiryu's like wowie zowie so you do have a heart and Majima's like no way loser while being just 😳👉👈

[crow-in-gotham]

BLOG POST NO. 12 - WTF IS A BATMAN

If there is one thing that I have learned about the people of this city, it is the fact that literally everyone here loves to gossip. Like seriously, you see it everywhere, from people of all ages, young or old. I’m not complaining about it by any means (I’m Filipino, being a marites is kinda in my blood) but it’s just a little bit jarring to be on the bus, just peacefully minding my own business, then suddenly overhear someone gossiping in the seats behind me.

Which is exactly what happened to me today on my ride to school.

The apparent topic of the day? The identity of the ever mysterious Batman.

I know, I know, the topic has been talked about so much that if you compiled all the conspiracy theories regarding this and printed it out, the amount of paper you’d fill up might just be enough to reach the halfway point between the Earth and the Moon.

But regardless of how overdone this topic is, it’s still a pretty interesting thing to talk about. After all, absolutely no one knows who Batman is, or if he’s even a man in the first place. For all we know, the “man” in his name might be a red herring and he’s actually some eldritch alien sent from beyond the Milky Way to lull the world into a false sense of security so he can open a portal into the Dark Dimension and take over the entire world as an evil overlord.

Too much? Yeah, I think so too— but hey, what else am I supposed to do during my Differential Equations class, actually listen to the lecture? Pssh, nahhh— my attention span is way too short to sit through an entire 3 hours of just constantly being bombarded by numbers (I am so fucked).

Anyway, back to the topic at hand— Batman’s identity.

I’ve seen so many theories floating around about this, but only two in particular are that memorable for me personally. Well, three if you count the last one (we’ll get to that).

The first theory was that it might be this dude named Harvey Dent (had to look him up— and man, all I can say is that I’m sorry), but uh certain events have completely debunked that. If you live in Gotham then you know exactly what I’m talking about, and if you don’t then uh go do a quick internet search, I’m too lazy to spoon feed you all the information you need (you gotta learn how to do your own research somehow).

Then there’s the whole “Batman is Bruce Wayne” thing which is like, okay, I know where they’re going with this but at the same time I’m kinda ehh on it, you know? For one, Bruce Wayne looks too much like a personified teddy bear (I have said this once and I’ve said it again) to be the civilian identity of the literal definition of darkness and “it’s not a phase” but bat furry coded. I just don’t think the dude that flirts with women and men (istg the amount of times the tabloids just conveniently skip past this— I know for a fact I’m not the only one who’s seen that photo of this dude grab the waist of that male reporter from the Daily Planet— I see them) every chance he gets is the same guy who puts on a bat costume (am I allowed to make another furry joke?) to beat up bad guys in the middle of the night.

So what I’m trying to get at here is that I see the point being made, and I acknowledge it, but I just feel like we need more concrete evidence, you know?

I hope to fuck that I did not just summon an entire mob to come after me for that last bit.

Anyhow, onto my final theory, which is the fact that Batman might just be a cryptid born from the shadows of Gotham herself. This connects to the whole “Gotham is alive” conspiracy that started circulating around a few years ago. I don’t know how popularized it is, but it ended up reaching me when I was browsing through some forums a couple weeks back and honestly, even if it’s not true, it makes for an interesting thought. Because hey, what if cities are alive? That’d be interesting (and is also mildly terrifying).

The basic idea of this theory is the fact that Batman, thanks to being a cryptid and all that, isn’t actually human and therefore doesn’t have a human identity. He’s just Batman. As for why Gotham made him in the form of a human, not many people really answer this question (or more like no one really bothers to ask), but here’s my thoughts: I think Gotham made Batman into a humanoid because we as humans are often more inclined to be comfortable with something if it’s in the form of something familiar to us (hence, human). Like, imagine if Batman wasn’t human and was something like a massive blur of shadow and tendrils— wouldn’t that freak you the fuck out? Regardless of whether or not it saved you, you’ll still feel fucking terrified of it. But if it’s someone that just looks like a dude in a costume, then doesn’t that make you a little less scared? (I say “a little less” because let’s be real, human or not, Batman excels in being terrifying)

Well, that’s all under the assumption that the whole “Batman is a Cryptid” and “Gotham is Alive” are true.

Or that Batman even exists.

I’m pretty sure he does but there’s a lot of people that are saying otherwise, so I feel like I should at least acknowledge the fact that some people think he’s not real? Like, I even have classmates who say that Batman is just a tale told to kids so they don’t misbehave and stay out for too long— which, okay, that’s fair. I’ve heard my fair share of scary stories and beings throughout my childhood as well to be honest— also from adults who thought it’d be a great way to keep me obedient (mostly my titos and titas, my ma and pa never really liked scaring me or my brother)

Buut, I’m going to have to disagree with those points because I’ve heard Red Hood talk to his little earpiece thing (yes, Red Hood, I know you have one, because literally every vigilante/hero in a team should— no, I do not care if you say you’re a crime lord, you saved me from a mugger, get over it). And you know who he called out to one time? Batman.

And okay, to be fair, Red Hood could’ve just said the name to keep convincing people that Batman is real when he’s not, but honestly I don’t think Mr. Bleeding Bat Symbol over here would be that dedicated in making Gotham believe in something that isn’t real.

But I digress.

Do I actually care about Batman's real identity? Absolutely not. As long as the dude doesn’t bother me then I have nothing against his questionable life choices (I mean come on, what kind of life choices lead you to dressing up like a crime fighting bat?).

And also he keeps Gotham marginally safer, I guess, so that’s a win in my book.

As for the whole “What’s Batman’s relationship with Bruce Wayne?”— I've also given it some thought.

And honestly a part of me thinks they might be exes… or divorced.

But that’s a ramble for another time— I need to study for my next class.

[nightmaremonarch]

i think most link’s would be flat earthers. here’s a game by game analysis on whether or not that link would be a flat earther

edit: this is based on a mix of their education, experiences, technological advances, and relative historical period... most of them definitely would have the resources to tell the earth is round! but they got the triforce of courage, not wisdom ^_^

skyward sword link - mf lives on a flat floating rock. of course he’s a flat earther. probably thinks the earth below is a big ol floating island too

four swords and minish cap links - grouping them into one because they’re in similar periods. while technology would be advancing i assume it’s probably similar to medieval-premedieval so i think they’d be flat earthers

(edit: i became aware that there were still ways to learn the earth was flat premedieval era but that doesn't change my view... both will still believe the earth is flat.)

ocarina of time/majoras mask - ….he’s my favorite. i wanna be nice. but he’s probably a flat earther. dude has had no formal education. they probably think the world is infinite or smthn…

twilight princess - it would probably be similar to like. gothic to renaissance era. so people in this era probably know by then… that the world is round……. but not link. he sees a map and assumes that’s the shape of the world.

four swords adventures - our first round earther! he absolutely knows the world is round! probably has a formal education too

altp/ooa/oos/la link - bro’s gone everywhere. he’s NOT a flat earther 🙅🙅🙅 VEHEMENTLY defends the round earth.

albw/triforce heroes - different timeline version of the previous link. he is NOT a flat earther!

og link - now. you may be thinking. why would he be a flat earther if they previously had the technology to know that the world is NOT flat? well. legend of zelda is full of WEIRD historical development and WEIRD technological resets (see: the mess that is botw)… and this is one of those cases. he is a flat earther.

ww/ph - “the world isn’t infinite ocean????”

spirit tracks - not a flat earther!!! brother is an ENGINEER. he’s formally educated. they’ve reached an industrial revolution in hyrule and education would have CAUGHT UP.

botw - “why am i separating botw and totk?” because botw link FORGOT EVERYTHING. he thinks the world is flat and infinite.

totk - got in a discussion about it with zelda post botw.

link: (looks at map) how come sailors don’t fall off when they reach the edge here

zelda: ……..pardon ?

needless to say, he’s now a round earther!

FINALLY:

hyrule warriors - “no, wind, the world is not an infinite ocean.”

(formally educated knight, world is round)

thank you for reading.

[all-we-know-is-falling]

I can’t believe I’ve NEVER posted this before. What the flip. Anyway. This is from Agustín’s point of view, since he’s the main character and I find it easiest to write in first person. This is pretty old now and I’m not sure exactly how much of it is true to their story now, but I can tell you for sure that every single bit of Agustín’s confused and timid feelings towards Mateo and the idea of being alone with him are very real. That’s kind of the whole point LOL.

Solo, Juntos

I find myself in Mateo’s living room, with him of course. It’s cozy at his place. There is just stuff everywhere so it always feels more comfortable than it feels at mine.

Maybe that’s because there’s never really a quiet moment where I get to be home alone, and Mateo’s parents often have days when they’re both out at work until late, like right now.

Mateo says that when his parents are out, he’ll sometimes take advantage and invite his friends over. Apparently, he’s got a secret ‘stash’ hidden somewhere in his room. I don’t doubt him. “Don’t worry, it’s never too crazy.” He assures me.

Instead of inviting his long-time friend group round, he chose to invite me, I think to myself. We’ve been friends for a while now, but it still makes me feel a little… honoured, if that’s the word. I’m not entirely sure what we are right now, though, and I’m not sure if friends is the right term.

Mateo offers me a glass of water, and I accept it gratefully. The humid heat outside had me sweating on the way here, and my throat is feeling dry.

Bright warm light lights up sections of the tiled floor as the sun is placed high in the sky. It’s the middle of the day which explains why some of my hair is practically plastered to my forehead.

I take a seat on Mateo’s plush couch. It’s the kind that makes you feel like you’re sinking into it, and the quirky looking cushions sport different textures and shapes and colours.

He comes through with two glasses of clear, cool water and sets them down on the coffee table in front of the couch, among the random clutter which covers the surface.

The interior of his house is really busy and there’s a lot to take in, but it isn’t messy. Everything matches up and works together in its own way. Perhaps his parents are secretly insane interior designers…

This is the first time we’ve truly been alone together. Like, absolutely alone, no one else in the building, or anywhere near us. I don’t know how he’s feeling right now, but for me, I feel like I’m floating. Like falling, the kind of butterflies you get on a steep fair ride. Maybe I’m nervous, but I’m not sure what for. I take sips of my water, soothing my throat.

Mateo’s voice interrupts my thoughts, “If you were a stray cat outside, where would you choose to sunbathe?”

My eyes flick up at him and I furrow my brow, confused. He always asks the most random questions.

“Why would you ask that?” I pause for a second. “I’d probably find a flat warm stone… or pavement.”

Mateo grins when I give an answer, then he makes one up too. “I would go to the beach.”

He completely ignored my question.

Whatever.

“I’ve never imagined you to be a cat person.” I tell him.

“Yeah, I like them. They have cute faces and they’re calm, and reserved. They’re kind of the opposite of me!” He explains, then adds, “Minus the cute face, of course.”

I let out a small chuckle and try not to smile too hard, it’s as if I physically can’t straighten out my mouth. It’s no secret that I find Mateo hilarious, he always catches me laughing to myself about something he said way too long ago for it to still be funny. It’s a little embarrassing, but I can’t help it.

His almost-green eyes sparkle as he watches me laugh, which brings back the butterflies from earlier. “Oh yeah?” I say. “Well I like dogs.”

I don’t know why I prefer dogs.

“And I never expected you to be a dog person.” Mateo smiles at me. I break eye contact, my face feels flushed.

“No but seriously, what’s with your weird questions?” I ask him again. Hopefully he will give me the response I want this time.

“Weird questions can tell you a lot about a person, based on how they answer them.” He tells me, his voice authentic. “Even just finding out whether someone will answer them at all can be telling. For example, you. You’re one of the only people who genuinely gives me a real answer, like just now.”

“Right…” I can kind of see where he’s coming from. “Is that a good or bad thing?” He pouts as if he’s thinking.

“Yeah, it’s definitely a good thing. Also your answers are always super cute.”

I’m sure my eyes must have widened at that last part. I hope not but knowing my luck there’ll have been something which completely gave away how I feel about Mateo Ramírez calling something I do ��cute’.

He’s always so genuine and real in the way he speaks, which is great because then I get to hear him say things like that to me, and I’ll never not get flustered when he does, but that also means that he might not mean it in any significant way, if you know what I mean. He talks like that to everyone, so I can’t ever get my hopes up. Things between us are complicated and I don’t really want to think about it.

Anyway, we continue to chat together, showing each other stuff we find funny on our phones, and listening to music in the back for an hour or two.

It doesn’t take long before we’re both in hysterics at something ridiculous which had been brought up in one of our many conversations. Mateo practically keels over laughing and lands his head on my shoulder as he grabs me, one hand at my arm and one at my chest. He’s the type to laugh with his whole body and it’s so funny.

Once we had both stopped gasping for breath, we settled finally. We were sitting very close to each other now, though. I think my palms started sweating.

*

I don’t know what to do. Everything in me is screaming at me to get up and run away, it’s too much. This is what I’ve wanted, though, isn’t it? Mateo has come too close, his face, his lips, only inches from my own. I’m not sure where to put my hands. Definitely nowhere near him, they’re sweaty and, anyways, I feel as if both of them are glued firmly to the sofa behind my back.

I try not to lean backwards even further, the closer Mateo gets. I don’t want it to look like I don’t want to do this, whatever this is. Do I want to do this? I’m unsure but I don’t have time to wonder, my thoughts are going ten to the dozen and I’m sure Mateo can probably hear my heartbeat racing. Yet my head feels as if it’s full of thick clouds, so I can’t actually decipher anything that I’m thinking. Even my breathing starts to pick up pace, I feel frozen in place, I feel like everything is going to go wrong and I’m going to mess this up somehow, and then-

My breath hitches when I feel Mateo’s mouth pressed softly against my own. Before I can fully react, he’s kissing me. Properly kissing me. He moves his lips and I do the same back, after my initial shock. Neither of us stops to say anything.

I can’t seem to relax, I’m aware of how tense I am, and Mateo seems to be as well. This must be why he pauses to ask me, “Is this alright?”

Now I feel bad because he looks nervous too. Or maybe he was always nervous but I was too caught up in my own head to notice. I don’t think that I can actually comprehend anything that’s going on right now, though.

“Yeah. Sorry.” I’ve never said something more awkwardly in my entire life. I can’t believe I really just responded like that.

I smile and try to relax a little. I also free my hands from behind my back, but this sends me sinking further into the sofa. Oof.

Now I feel like Mateo is above me. He’s looking down and smiling back at me. I simultaneously wish the sofa would swallow me whole, and that this moment would never end. He lets out a little laugh, presumably at me falling into the mass of cushions beneath me.

We don’t say anything else, but there seems to be a shared understanding that we both want this. I take in his gaze for a second before he leans down again to kiss me more. Mateo uses one arm to hold himself up, then I feel his free hand touch my face. The extra contact of his palm against my cheek and his fingers reaching my hair makes my head cloud up again with millions of new, undecipherable thoughts.

Instead, I decide to let it be; I want to live in the moment rather than in my head. I reach my hands to Mateo’s shoulders, broad and firm, then to near his neck. I pull him closer as he uses his supporting arm to lower himself. He hovers over me, the kiss only getting deeper, and runs his fingers through my dark, thick hair. The butterflies that have been living inside of me the whole time, since being invited into his house, evaporate; I’m in the moment now. Everything finally feels right.