#I think they're rock candy

[chewby-stims]

could i get a dungeon master tango stimboard with blue slushies and soft slime (like cloud/snow slime) ? ur boards are very pretty :3

so sorry for answering this so late but! a decked out tango board with blue slushies and soft slime :) & thank you!

x x x | x x x | x x x

[daily-odile]

everything is the same except Odile is the one looping

oh. heheheheh. muahahahaha. hold on *digs through my pile of disorganized sketches*

Odile loops au; a sketch compilation!!

Some old fic drabbles + associated sketches under cut (a6 secret spoilers):

hc: Since equipment carries over, as long as Odile uses her book in a fight, she can write down notes and have it carry over loops

toxic doomed yuri (for a more fleshed out fic I highly recommend The Sweetest Thing by soreimoon, it's amazing)

[bklily]

realizing i spent my entire childhood obsessed with a french franchise about a normal girl living a normal life and being pursued by many love interests one in particular being a blonde guy with severe daddy issues.

only to shift gears completely and spend my teenage years and adulthood obsessed with a french franchise about a normal girl living a normal life and being pursued by many love interests one in particular being a blonde guy with severe daddy (and mommy) issues.

life is a fucking circle and i cant get the fuck out.

[chungledown-bimothy]

what i'd give to have gotten more of caramelinda talking without being exasperated with her husband and children's shenanigans

i cannot get a good grip on her voice for the life of me, and that makes writing her so fucking difficult

[ddejavvu]

mean!logan noticing you’re obsessed with his biceps so he makes you use them to get off one day >:)))

Greed - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: mean!logan, degradation, arm/bicep fucking, strength/power imbalance, don't like don't read

thank you to @hanasnx for helping me workshop some possible positions, even if mine differs slightly from indy's 2 examples i had to consult the arm kink professional for guidance

"'Wish you'd speak up for yourself," Logan grunts one day, voice free of criticism but scrutinizing all the same, "Would be a hell of a lot easier to get you off."

"What?" You blink bewilderedly at him, watching as he slings a wife beater over his head, the white fabric barely stretching to cover his broad chest.

"Every time I flex my arms in front of you, you get all crazy. You never say it," Logan stands at the foot of the bed, watching as you squirm, "But I always smell it."

"Your arms are nice." You supply weakly, throat suddenly dry and hollow, "I like them."

"I know." Logan laughs, a huff that's not mean but might as well be for the way it mortifies you, "Like I said, I can tell. But you never say anything, honey. Why's that?"

You detest the way his attention is fixated solely on you. It makes you writhe in your seat, it makes an ache throb between your legs while your brain desperately grasps at straws to figure out what to say.

"I dunno," Is the brilliant response you land on, and his chest rocks with a silent scoff.

"I know why," He prods, crossing his arms. The arms that you can't stop thinking about. "You think talking about what you like is dirty, and you think you're oh-so-pure. But I can smell you- you smell filthy. You're no saint. I've had you choking on my cock before, you're not fooling me. So what do you want?"

Your eyes fall to his arms without any thought behind the motion. He notices, of course, because he's studying you for any miniscule reaction.

"That's not enough." Logan growls, frustration tinging his gruff voice, and you're sure he's smelling the growing arousal between your thighs, "I said tell me."

"I- I want..." You falter, the words on the tip of your tongue but more raunchy than you'd ever be brave enough to voice.

"If you can't ask for it, you're not getting it." Logan decides, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he tightens the way they're crossed against his chest.

You consider abandoning ship. Seceding into silence, and letting Logan down as well as yourself. Taking the safe route.

But you're throbbing. You're aching, Logan's scrutiny combined with the look of his flexed arms is sending you into overdrive, and there's a steady heartbeat between your thighs that's begging for attention. It works the same way booze does, emboldening you, and you blurt out with courage never-before-seen, "I want to ride your arms."

He looks half impressed that you'd said anything at all, and half stunned that you'd said that much, that plainly.

His brows raise, bushy and angled to create a perfect arch.

"Wow. Pretty nasty stuff." He muses, faux-considerate as if he hadn't demanded a voice from you. Still, he doesn't move- so why had he asked?

You shift gently in your seat, but his eyes track your every move like a hunter.

"Well," He lingers in place, arms still crossed, the perfect eye-candy for you, "You gonna say please, or what?"

"Please," You blurt with burning cheeks, and he snickers at your eagerness.

"See? You're not so sweet." He advances, arms coming uncrossed to brace his weight on the bed, meaning thick cords of muscle strain against the confines of his skin, showcased as he crawls towards you, "You couldn't even remember to say please, just demanded to get off on me like I'm some toy."

"Logan, that's not-"

"Inconsiderate." He decides, eyes on your body instead of your face as he scans over your thinly-clad chest, "You're only in it for the sex, aren't you, you little minx?"

"Stop." You plead, feeling as dirty as his words imply. You're not- Logan is the love of your life, but you won't pretend you hate sex with him. But he's making you feel so dirty, like a fiend who wants nothing but his dick.

His hand trails between your thighs but it's different this time, and his fingers toy with your clit only as a prerequisite. You let him open you up, you let his fingers ease your muscles looser as his mouth eases your own loose. His tongue dips inside and licks you into submission, your brain activity lowering the more he kisses you. He soon snakes his arm between your legs, offering you up your real prize: the thick, muscular width of his bicep.

It's an awkward angle, you won't lie. But squeezing your thighs around his arm presses delicious friction against your clit, and the rocking of your hips is an instinct more than it is a thought-out motion.

Logan rests on his stomach on the bed, his arm stretched out in front of him to provide your seat. It means he has to crane upwards to see you, and you thank his supernatural strength for the way that he doesn't break a sweat as you rub yourself wantonly on his arm. His face is not exactly at your own level, which means you can't kiss him silly like you want to. But craning his neck upwards means that his face lands between your tits, and you feel the rough burn of his scruff against your skin as he nestles into your warm skin.

Logan is, perhaps, the ideal individual to suit your cravings for arm muscles. Not only does he have the perfect build, but his increased strength means that he's able to bare his bicep for you to get off on, even lifting it off of the bed to offer you increased friction. Perhaps a normal man would tire in seconds, but Logan- Logan could hold on longer than you.

Grinding against the plentiful mass of muscle in his bicep means that you're rutting up against him, and you have to spread your legs as far apart as possible to ensure that your cunt is met with the already-slickened surface of Logan's bare arm. You're making a mess despite still being in your pajamas, because the shorts you'd been sleeping in offer very little fabric to defend Logan's skin from your copious arousal.

Logan nips at a spot on your left breast, humming gruffly into your chest as you gasp slightly at the intrusion. It breaks your concentration and you have to grip harder at the sheets to fall back into your laborious rhythm.

"Not easy, hm? You've gotta work for it," Logan grunts, mouth moving against your chest as he takes a nipple into his mouth, "Nasty girl, 's a real workout to fuck this dirty, isn't it?"

"Logan, I- I'm not dirty," You whimper, tears beading in your eyes at his gruff accusations, "I'm not."

His laugh is more of a bark than anything, and he ducks his head away from your chest to point with his chin at the mess you're making on his arm.

"That's not dirty? You're dripping- you're making a real mess'a my arm, sweetheart. Dirty little cunt's drooling all over me."

The image of your slick coating Logan's arm, glistening against his muscles throws your pleasure into overdrive. Your orgasm rapidly approaches, the memory of his fingers inside of you only minutes before making up completely for the lack of penetration you get from his bicep. You squeeze your thighs even tighter around Logan's arm, pinning it to your cunt with an almost painful force as you hump against it desperately.

"You're fucking filthy." Logan hisses against your tits, taking one in between his teeth and biting, hard, "Humping my arm like a damn dog. Feel good, honey? Feel how strong I am?"

He flexes harder, tenses his muscles just that much more, and you feel them stiffen impossibly harder beneath your pussy. It's that and the way he mouths at your tits, growling such indecent accusations into their flushed warmth that sends you over the edge, a feeble cry escaping your lips as your hips begin trembling, twitching as you grind against his arm impossibly faster to fulfil your orgasm.

You're sure the bedsheets have suffered your release as much as Logan's arm has, but he's never seriously chided you for making a mess, and you're sure he won't this time. He groans himself as you ride through your orgasm on his arm and you realize only now as you come down from your high that he's been rutting against the mattress, cock still trapped in the confines of his sweatpants. If he hasn't managed to get off on the mattress you'll help him now, granting him access to all the slick warmth that his arm provided.

Now the pressure of his bicep is overstimulating as it presses constantly against your cunt and you ease off of it, giving Logan a prime view of your ruined, sensitive cunt as you whine at the sensitivity.

"Impressive," He hums, "Never thought I'd have you rubbing all over my arm like that."

"It's really strong. You're- you're really strong, Logan, it's nice."

"Yeah?" He grins, more of a smirk perhaps, as something sharp invades his eyes, "All that muscle gets you going? Knowing I'm stronger than you?"

"You are," Your breath shudders as you let it out, and he pushes up on his arms, one still covered in your slick release. He seems suddenly intent on showcasing that strength difference, muscles bulging as he crawls across the mattress to slot himself on top of your fucked-out form.

"I am." He agrees, mouth pressing hungrily to yours as the same arm you'd just got off on curls around your back and cements you to him, his hips already rutting against your own, "Wanna find out how much stronger I am?"

"Yes. Logan, yes, I-" He seizes your mouth in another kiss, cutting off your desperate pleas.

"Fucking try to move." He grunts, almost a growl with how guttural and gruff it sounds against the hollow of your parted lips as his other hand holds your hip firmly, almost crushingly in place, "I'll pin you down 'n hold you still, greedy girl."

[writingwithcolor]

Black woman’s skin turns blue from powers; is this whitewashing/erasure?

Anonymous asked:

I have a character in a comic I'm hoping to write one day. She's a light skinned black woman(she's half white if that helps!) living in New York City during an 80s themed post nuclear apocalypse. The comic's main characters are all rock stars, so a lot of the character design elements revolve around the different rock genres. The character in question is in a glam rock band, so there's lots of bright, saturated, crazy colors involved in her design. The problem I'm having involves this one story beat where she gets mutant superpowers that give her electricity and sound based abilities. Her skin turns cotton candy blue as a result of the mutation. I'm hung up on whether or not this might fall under some kind of skin lightening or white-washing trope since it's a fairly light shade of blue. I designed her mutant look before her human look, so this was well before I'd even figured out what race she was, and I simply thought the shade of blue would compliment both the electricity powers and the fact that her hair is dyed pink. Is there a way I could still make this work? Or am I worrying about nothing?

Ideally, it would be nice to keep her brown skin tone. There’s a common comic and supernatural trend where Black people’s skin is covered up by a suit or Black-coded characters are an unnatural color (blue, green, purple, etc).

This is more of an issue when: 

There are no other Black characters of those identities besides the covered up/ ones with unnatural skin colors.

The creator adds this change to make them "special" because they do not believe Black characters, with features commonly associated with Black people like dark hair, skin and eyes, are acceptable enough for the character to stand on their own.

The supernatural special Black people are treated well by the story. The "non-special" Black people have unhappy stories and misfortune.

Other races of characters do not get their skin covered up or changed. Only the Black ones and/or BIPOC in general.

I think a quick fix for this would be for her skin to turn blue when she’s actively using her powers, at random, or other specific times, besides constantly. If she needs to be more consistently “mutant looking” Are there other ways she could change without her skin color changing or changing completely?

People with glitter on skin, light surrounding their face, and blue braids. Images from pexels.

More ideas that keep her skin brown

Hair

Her hair color changes blue or your color of choice (which could include body hair too, which would give her a more “otherworldly” appearance).

Note: If her hair is curly or natural, please keep it so! At least, the powers shouldn't change it straight.

Eyes

Her eyes glowing brighter or colorfully during power-use.

Note: If they're usually brown, they could stay brown when powers not in use, like Marvel's Storm in some versions.

Storm by Marvel Entertainment//20th Century Studios.

Skin and body

Blue patterns appear on her skin.

Blue glow or sheen to her skin without fully changing the color.

Her skin projects color and light.

New growths or changes to body, such as ear shape, wings, etc.

No matter what you decide, please make clear in your tale that she’s a Black mixed race woman. And have fun!

More reading:

How Special is Too Special? The Politics and Characterization of Stacking Special/Abnormal Traits on Mixed Race Characters

~Colette

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi!! could you maybe write for being the younger sibling of dipper and mabel? maybe the reader is like, 9/10 y.o i wonder what they're sibling relationships would be as well as they're relationship with stan and ford

They say a bond between twins is a bond unlike any other, but didn’t mean that dipper or Mabel cared about you any less then they did each other, you were their baby sibling and they were always going to have your back no matter what.

Dipper would be the protective older brother who’s sometimes come across as strict and would often forbid you from joining him and Mabel on monster hunts, stating that you were too young to be doing something as dangerous as hunting monsters.

You’d naturally respond with the fact that technically he and Mabel were also too young to be going head on into monster hunting too, so thereby making the statement redundant and him look like a hypocrite. To which Dipper would agree with you on but still would tell you it was too dangerous for you, he only wants to keep you safe but you had too much of a stubborn spirit to be easily swayed into staying put.

Mabel on the other hand was the chill sibling who’d let you join in the monster hunting any day because she didn’t want you feeling left out. After all it was kinda a family thing to hunt the unknown of gravity falls at this point, so she didn’t see why you shouldn’t come along with her and Dipper because as long as you had the journal with you, you were fine.

You tend to argue with dipper more than Mabel but that’s because dipper tended to take himself too seriously as your older brother while Mabel doesn’t take herself seriously enough. So whenever you and dipper did argue, Mabel tended to be the peace keeper between the two of you or use Waddles as a distraction from your arguing to come together.

Despite all this you, Dipper and Mabel were loyal and faithful to one another that there wasn’t anything any of you wouldn’t do for the other.

Dipper would give up everything to keep you and Mabel safe as he knew you and her would do the same and you did on multiple occasions, saving each other’s lives and so on. You all headed into the unknown together, never once thinking of leaving the other behind because if one of you were to go down, the other two would rush to your side and pick you back up.

You helped dipper decode stuff and listen to him drone on about Wendy from time to time while playing dungeons, dungeons and emore dungeons with him and Grunkle Ford.

You’d help Mabel bedazzle everything in sight and spend time with her, Candy and Grenda on the odd occasion of doing karaoke with her and grunkle Stan whenever the occasion calls for a bit of fun.

You were best friends with Dipper and Mabel as much as you were siblings and that was the best kind of relationship you had.

Also if Mabel had waddles then you have a pet raccoon or maybe an axolotl like Ford once did.

If dipper was similar to Ford

And if Mabel was similar to Stanley

Then you were the perfect balance of both of them. Stubborn and sometimes silly like Stan but curious and observant like Ford.

Stan and Ford could clearly see bits and pieces of themselves in you like they could with Dipper and Mabel, with the only difference being that you weren’t a twin nor had a twin but that didn’t stop either Grunkle from wanting to spend time with you.

They had to play rock, paper, scissors against one another to see who’d get to spend time with you first, only for Stan to come out the victor.

Stan would teach you how to box first and foremost so that if anyone tried anything with you, they’d get decked in the face from a vicious right hook. He just wants you to be able to protect yourself even if you were only 9/10 it didn’t make a difference to him really.

Teaches you on how to con people out of their money, lie effortlessly and make quick get aways or even how to get out of handcuffs without trying. Did he once give you a fishing hat with your name stitched on it for the soul purpose of taking you fishing with him when Dipper was with Ford and Mabel was with Candy and Grenda? Yes, he wanted something only you and him could do together that was just yours and his.

Cuz it was either that or commit arson and or property damage to other competitors.

Now with Ford he’ll probably have you be outside with him and documenting strange looking mushrooms and or flowers that you’d come across. It sounds boring but it’s quite fun if you came across fairies and the like, however the moment Ford sees that you were about to fall into a Fae trap, he’s picking you up and getting you as far away from it as he could.

Just like Stan, Ford wanted something that was just for you and him, sure he and Dipper go monster hunting, and he and Mabel dressed up as witches once, but he wanted something he could do with just you.

You’d bond over the fact that you both had/have a pet axolotl.

You and Ford probably took a break from your joint documenting to make flower crowns for one another while having a small picnic in the woods. It was peaceful and relaxing to you but Ford was keeping an eye out to make sure nothing would disturb your little picnic, while looking as menacingly as he could with a cute flower crown on his head.

If you both found a flower that was never seen before, you can bet your ass that Ford is naming it after you, no questions asked.

Stan and Ford are just as protective of you as they are the twins and they can and will step in between you and whoever is making you uncomfortable, all the while keeping you safely behind them as Stan whips out his brass knuckles and Ford shows off the gun on his hip in a silent threat.

Nobody messes with their family and they’ll make sure that message is loud and clear.

Bonus; Bill would probably try to manipulate you into thinking that neither dipper, Mabel, Stan or Ford cared about you cuz twins will look out for each other always but you were the spare sibling that gets forgotten, Insisting Stan and Ford’s brother as reason as to why but you knew your family better then a sentient one eyed triangle did and know that your family would always come through for you time and time again.

And they have and they always will no matter what.

[cityofmeliora]

Secondo lied about being able to speak Swedish, and Terzo lied about *not* being able to speak Swedish

this is honestly one of the funniest things i've noticed in the Ghost lore 😂

when Secondo performed live in Sweden, he would speak some broken / mispronounced Swedish words and phrases on stage.

at Terzo's very first concert, he called out Secondo for lying. Secondo couldn't actually speak Swedish. he was just trolling, and Terzo thought that was a stupid prank. unlike his brother, Terzo admitted he did not speak Swedish, and he asserted he would not troll the audience by attempting to speak Swedish on stage. he re-iterated this several times at concerts in Sweden.

PAPA EMERITUS III: My imbecile brother has somehow fooled you into thinking he can speak some fucking Swedish– pidgin Swedish. No more of that! I do not speak Swedish, OK? Linköping, Sweden (June 3, 2015) via Youtube and Instagram

PAPA EMERITUS III: How are you doing? It's nice to see so many of you here. What has it been, a little over a year? My brother told me about you. And you do know that I'm not gonna trick you with any fucking pidgin Swedish, huh? I know he fooled you into believing he could talk. He sounded like a fucking asshole. Stockholm, Sweden (November 13, 2015)

... except Terzo was also totally lying because later in the same concert in Stockholm, Terzo yells at the audience in fluent Swedish.

PAPA EMERITUS III: FATTA DET HÄR FÖR HELVETE! Stockholm, Sweden (November 13, 2015)

"FATTA DET HÄR FÖR HELVETE!" translates to something like "UNDERSTAND THIS, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Terzo was so bad at maintaining this lie about not speaking Swedish. he continually insisted that he could not speak Swedish, but he also kept demonstrating that not only was he a fluent Swedish speaker, he was very familiar with the culture.

PAPA EMERITUS III: Good evening. How do you do? Alright, let me get this straight to you now: Despite the band being a Swedish band, I don’t speak Swedish, OK? But I can try. You wanna hear me try? You know, we got some awards which we are very thankful for, obviously. So I can say, “Jag är kåt, glad, och tacksam.” And I can say, “Plopp.” “Kexchoklad.” Bandit Rock Awards 2016 (January 19, 2016)

“Jag är kåt, glad, och tacksam.” means "I am horny, happy, and thankful."

"Plopp" and "Kexchoklad" are the names of two Swedish chocolate candies.

PAPA EMERITUS III: I know for a fact that here in Skåne you like your potatoes, huh? Spettekaka. How fitting, because this song we’re gonna do right now does have a culinary theme that you might like. Malmö, Sweden (February 25, 2016)

Skåne is the county of Sweden where this concert was performed.

Spettekaka is a Swedish dessert.

unless they're already very familiar with Swedish, an English speaker wouldn't know how to pronounce most of these words correctly, and Terzo does.

obviously, this is all because TF is Swedish and had trouble staying in character. but the lore implications are hilarious for Terzo HAHAHA. he loves to lie and he's so bad at it.

(BTW i actually don't speak Swedish! if you are a fluent speaker, feel free to correct my translations!)

[luveline]

Hii

Whenever you have time could you please do more single dad!Spencer. It’s just too cute and it really warms my heart how you write it.

tysm ♡ dad!spencer and his daughter amanda find their reunion unexpectedly interrupted when you need a place to stay the night. fem!reader, 3.4k

Spencer doesn't mind how tactile Amanda is. If anything, he loves it, content to have her sitting in his lap or on his hip, anywhere he goes and anywhere she wants to be. He tries to get in as much affectionate time with her as he can when he's home to make up for his days away. 

He doesn't like missing her, but he loves coming home. Amy sits on his stomach while Spencer lays on the couch, using his thighs as a backboard while they both fail to pay attention to the kids cartoons on their TV. 

"Were you good for Mrs. Gomorrah?" he asks, though he knows she was. He had to live through the agony that was teaching Mrs. Gomorrah how to text on a cell phone he bought for her years ago, but it was worth it to get those incremental updates that he relies on every day to get to the next without catching a flight home.

Amy had pizza 

Amy misses you. She said she is kissing you through my phone

Wants a new dress for school party tonight, emergency money OK to use? said she loves you 

Aaskkk k k o 

Sorry, accidentally texted you, Amanda made dinner tonight [photo]

The text messages help being far away feel less like torture. Spencer loves his job but he wonders if he should love it less, sometimes, when Mrs. Gomorrah remembers how to send photos, or when he can make it back to the hotel before bed time and call Amy.

But here she is in the flesh. Spencer doesn't worry about work when she's holding his hand. 

"I was good," she confirms, wiping hair from her face with a blue sleeve. She's in her pyjamas at three thirty. Spencer's in his matching set, blue long sleeve t-shirts with two dogs —a grown up and a puppy, seemingly a dad dog and his daughter— on the shirt and miniature dogs on the pants. "Promise. We did fruit kebabs last night." 

Spencer saw photos, but he still says, "Yeah? What fruits did you have? You know, strawberries will be extra yummy again soon because they're back in season." 

"We had strawberries, and bananas, and the green one, kiwi." She puts one of her feet up on his chest. He makes wide eyes at it to hear her giggle. "And with chocolate and maple syrup, it was really yummy." 

"We should make Tanghulu." 

This is a new word for Amy. "Tanghulu?" 

"It started with a berry called Chinese hawthorn, but now people use lots of different fruits. You make a fruit kebab, but instead of chocolate, you dip the fruit into hot sugar and it goes hard as it cools like rock candy, and you have good strong teeth, so you could eat it no problem." 

"It turns the fruit into candy?" she asks, wiggling her toes. 

"Kind of." Spencer covers her foot with his hand unthinkingly. She looks tired already though it's only the afternoon. She gets very tired when Spencer comes home, like she'd been waiting. "Do you want to have a nap with me, sweetpea?" 

"No, I don't think so."

Spencer made a mistake when she was younger. He thought leaving while she was sleeping would make it easier to say goodbye. It was for him, but Amy didn't sleep or eat right for days, and Spencer had to come home before the case was over to stop her from making herself sick. They've worked on it, Spencer never ever leaves without saying goodbye, but she still gets scared to sleep when they're together sometimes. 

He ushers her forward. "Come here," he says, "quick, give me a hug." She flops forward and Spencer arranges her into a cuddle, hand against her hair, his nose pressed to her forehead. "I missed you." 

"Missed you more," she says. 

"Not true. I missed you so much." 

"Don't go away again for a day," she says. 

"I'm staying home for a whole week. Maybe longer, okay? But I promise you, seven whole days no matter what." And he means it. The only thing that could change his mind is a mass murder situation, but otherwise, they'll have to make it work without him. He hates to say that kind of thing, but he has to say it, because Amy is his first priority. 

She relaxes into his arms. "Okay." 

His phone rings, because of course it does. Amy frowns her displeasure with tears shining silver in her eyes. Spencer shakes his head at her, "I'm not going, Ames. I promised. I won't answer anybody, this week is just going to be me and you." 

She glares at the phone and rests her chubby cheek on his chest. Spencer wonders if it's uncomfortable considering his lack of padding and sits up with an arm behind her seatbelting her to his front. "Let's go watch TV in bed." 

Her hands grab at the back of his shirt. "Bring your phone, dad," she says. 

Spencer kisses the side of her head. "No, I told you already, I'm not going." 

"What if Mrs. Gomorrah wants to come for dinner?" she asks, her voice smaller, sleepy. She rubs her face into his front. 

It's a good point. Spencer picks up his phone to check if it was her and frowns at the missed call. It's you. You've texted him too. 

"It's Y/N," he says. 

Amy knows you because whenever he's had to bring her with him (not often, but occasionally on regular work days when there's school reset days), you're very, very kind to her. You're not sure of yourself around kids but it doesn't matter, you let Amy sit with you if she wants to and you always talk to her with care, offer her snacks, anything that you can share. 

It's why he calls you back. That, and you're a nice friend. 

— 

You're feeling about as ashamed and sheepish as a girl can be as you take the elevator up to Spencer's floor. You don't want to impose on anybody, but you'd rather have died than ask Hotch, JJ's taking a vacation in Santa Monica, Penelope's on a conference with Kevin, Emily chose to use her week on an undisclosed trip, and Morgan was similarly off the radar. 

And you know Spencer has Amanda, you know they've been apart for longer than they've been together this month, and you hate interrupting their time together, but… you couldn't stay home no matter how badly you wanted to. Stupid landlord. Stupid cockroaches and stupid fumigation tents.

You carry your go bag with nothing but a week's worth of dirty clothes and your wallet. Your phone is about to die and you'd really wanted, more than anything, to crawl into bed and sleep the daytime away. 

You've never been to Spencer's apartment despite knowing him well, and liking him more. You knock on the door, apartment 305B. You're dead on your feet at this point, exhausted by the jet ride home, the commute to your apartment, the subsequent ten minutes spent crying on the sidewalk, and the next half hour debating if you could bother Spencer. Maybe you should've got a hotel, but it was already getting late and you just needed something familiar. Selfishly, you needed someone you knew after such a shitty case. 

"Hello," Spencer says, opening the door with a familiar girl held in his arms, "don't mind my jacket." 

Amy's clearly sleeping, tiny snores echoing from near his neck. It's cute, but it makes you feel much worse. "I'm sorry–" 

He doesn't let you apologise, "Are you kidding? What were you gonna do? We're excited to have you." He's kind of talking to you like Amy's still awake, enthusiastic whisper-shouting as he pulls you inside. 

"It's just for tonight, I promise. They said I'll be able to  back in by evening tomorrow," you say, holding your bag to your chest. You blink at him as you follow him to the kitchen. "Are you wearing matching pyjamas?" 

"You came over last minute!" he defends with a laugh. 

Spencer opens his hand for your bag and puts it behind a steaming bowl of soup. "Oh, were you guys eating dinner?" you ask. 

"No, that's for you. I'm gonna put Amy in bed and then I can do your laundry. Did you need a hug?" 

"What?" 

Spencer smiles at you. "I thought maybe you're having a bad day." He offers his empty arm and you don't know how to say no, don't want to, careful not to bump into Amy as you curl your arm behind his back. "We're happy to have you. You could stay all week and that would be fine. Did they really give you no warning?" 

"I called my landlord and he laughed and then kind of got quiet. I think he forgets that I live there." 

Spencer pulls away and puts a hand on Amy's back. She's very slight like Spencer but if she were any older he'd struggle to carry her for as long as he has. You can see the fatigue trembling in his left arm. "It's not legal for him to leave you with nowhere to stay, and without any notice. You could ask Hotch–" 

"It's okay." You gesture to Amy's face. "She's getting so big." 

"And heavy. Be back in a few. Eat on the couch if you want to." 

You wouldn't. Spencer takes Amy into one room off of the main room, and then comes back to grab your laundry before disappearing into another. His apartment is a fun but odd layout, the door leading into a living room slash kitchen with a dining table, then opening out left and right, bedrooms toward the back of the apartment and a bathroom behind. It reminds you of a flower, that central hub of life and the petals curling outward. 

You pick up your spoon cautiously. He definitely said the food was for you, but it's so strange to be greeted with a meal, you can't remember the last time someone made sure you had something to eat. 

Spencer doesn't attract your attention until he's pulling up a chair next to you with two glasses set on the table. "I put your pyjamas on quick wash. And your, uh, your grey bag." 

Your grey bag is a little net bag full of delicates. You try to be adult about it, but it's so super awkward that you end up laughing aloud, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. I just put the entire bag in, like, intact." 

You believe that, but you infer from the tightness of his voice that he's worried you'll think he's weird. Honestly, he's just nice, even if it's awkward. Everybody wears underwear. "That's what it's for," you say. 

"Do you think they make those in a bigger size? Amy's vests get tangled sometimes because the straps are skinny, that would be useful." 

"I'm sure they do," you say, toying with your spoon. "I… really don't know how to say thank you. I know we're friends, but it's different. To let me stay."

"When I was a kid I didn't have many friends. By high school I didn't have one. So I never got to have sleepovers until Amanda. And she's my best friend, but she's six, so…" 

You both laugh suddenly, beaming at one another in your wrinkled, mismatched clothes. 

You finish your meal through lighthearted conversation. Spencer takes your dish for the sink and you both move to the couch to watch TV. 

Clifford the Big Red Dog plays on mute. "I know you're thrilled to watch something this intellectually tantalising, but maybe we should watch a movie. There's a guide under the cushion," Spencer says. 

You dig for the guide but wherever he thinks it is, it isn't. 

"Doesn't matter. Mrs. Gomorrah will have one, I'll take her some dinner at the same time. Would you keep your ear on Amy? She might wake up."

He makes a tray for Mrs. Gomorrah, a neighbour and good friend of his. You've met her once when she brought Amy into the office, an Italian-American woman who's black and silver hair bounced when she talked. Beside his mother living in a sanitarium in Nevada, and his small daughter, Mrs. Gomorrah is Spencer's only family. He treats her accordingly. 

The washing machine starts to beep a few minutes after he's left. You spring from the couch and track down his washer and dryer, transferring your damp wash into the dryer and frowning at the machine's strange settings.

"Daddy?" a small voice calls. Sharper, unhappy, "Daddy?" 

"Amy!" you say, moving from your crouch to stand in the doorway. "Hi, honey! Your dad just went to give Mrs. Gomorrah some dinner." 

Amy squints at you. "Miss Y/N?" 

"Hi," you say tentatively. "My house is kind of broken for a bit and I asked your dad if I can stay the night." You bend to meet her eyes properly. "Would that be okay with you?" 

"Yeah," she says, smiling. "Yeah, please stay. Daddy's friends never come over." 

"Did you need something, honey? I can help." 

"No… You're sure he's at Mrs. Gomorrah's?" 

"Definitely one hundred percent positive. He can't go to work without me, can he?" 

Amy shrugs little shoulders. "I guess not." 

You can't help laughing at her. With the sound of the dryer bumping behind you, you meet Amy near the dining table and touch her shoulder gently to prompt her toward the couch. She jumps up onto the seat with the most cushions and you sit beside her. You and Spencer never managed to pick a movie, so the kids channel still plays on mute. 

"How do you turn it up?" you ask, offering her the remote hopelessly. 

Amy sidles against your side and points. You click the small white speaker button, greeted by the barks of another episode of Clifford. 

"Is this one okay?" you ask. 

"I love Clifford."

It can't be two minutes before she rests her head against your arm, her hand locking over the crook of your elbow. 

You're not sure what to do. She's Spencer's kid, so she probably does. "Do you want a cuddle?" you ask her. You'd be happy to give her one, but you don't know what's okay with her. 

"Please." 

You hang your arm across her shoulders and behind her back, stroking a tentative and short line into her arm, just once. "These are nice pyjamas, Amy. I saw your dad has the same ones." They're soft under your arm. Her hair brushes your wrist as she turns her head to crinkle her nose at you. 

"Thank you. Me and dad have all matching pyjamas," she says proudly. 

"All?" 

"Well, maybe not all. But lots." 

She hums and shuffles closer to your chest. It felt odd at first —although Amy has sat in your lap at your desk at work, and even given you a hug on her birthday to say thank you for the books and candies, you're not used to children or the things that they want. But it feels less foreign the longer she sits there, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time that day. 

Spencer comes back with a shiny TV Guide Magazine and a bundle of Amy's clothes under his arm. His eyes light up as her head peeks over the back of the couch. 

"Sorry, I was just at Mrs. Gomorrah's," he says, quickly putting everything down to take her into his arms. 

"I know," Amy says into his shirt. 

He kisses her head. You almost miss it, the affection quiet and swift. "Was your nap okay? Or do you need another one?" 

"Dad! Y/N's here." 

"Y/N doesn't care that you take naps, she takes naps too." Snoozing up against his shoulder with drool running down your chin. 

"No, I can't sleep because we're having a slumber party!" 

"We are?" he asks. 

"But she needs matching jammies." 

"Well, I don't have anything matching, but it won't be long for all my clothes to dry. I can wear jammies, then, at least," you assure her, sending Spencer a squinting smile that says, She's the cutest thing on planet Earth. 

He smiles back, as if to say, She really is. "Maybe Y/N wants a nap." 

Amy's concern lands on you. She climbs out of Spencer's arms, pressing her hand to your shoulder. "Please don't nap, I want to play games." 

"I'll play games, babe," you say. "Any game you want." 

"Yes! And, and maybe we can make, um–" Puzzled, Amy quirks her mouth into a frown and bounds back to Spencer. He rounds the couch and leans down at her gesturing. "What's it called, the fruit candy?" she whispers.

"From earlier?" he whispers back. "It's tanghulu. Tang-who-loo." 

She whispers a sweet thank you, spinning on the spot with her hands held behind her back. "We can make tanghulu, it's fruit kebabs turned to candy! Do you want to?"

Spencer smooths her hair back from her face. "You don't have to," he mouths, already squeezing her arm like he's prepared to talk her down. 

"Well, if it's okay with your dad I'd love to."

She gasps happily, jumping down off the sofa to race into the bathroom. "I'll wash my hands!" 

Spencer snorts and sits on the couch arm. "Notice how she didn't even ask me?" 

"You know that's a good thing." Spencer's probably read every parenting book there is. "She's so smart, Spencer. So smart, it's incredible. You're amazing." 

He scratches the collar of his sleep shirt, his curls moving as though woken by a gentle breeze as he nods to one side, "She shows some signs of an eidetic memory. Not like mine, but most children who have eidetic memories don't have them like I do. I can't take the credit for that, you know, beyond genetics." 

"Of course you can, someone had to teach her these things for her to remember them. You're never as nice to yourself as you should be, Spence. Everybody knows you're a great dad." You slouch back into the couch. "And I'm not just saying that because you're letting me stay for free." 

"There's no version of this situation where I would ever charge you. Thank you, Y/N. Having her by myself has been hard– it's hard. She's easy and I love her and she's better for me than she probably should be." He winces, his talking rushed, like he's listing statistics. "I haven't really been by myself. Mrs. Gomorrah. The team. We've known each other for a year but you act like Amy's family whenever you see her, and that means a lot to me. That's why I'm glad you called. You can always call me if you need help." 

"You can always call me," you murmur back. 

Spencer bumps your thigh with his knuckles. "I'm glad we're friends. Are you sure you're not too tired? Tanghulu isn't easy if you've never made it." 

"Says who?" 

"East Asian Eating, issue 78. We have to find the sugar, water, glucose syrup sweet spot or the candy doesn't harden."

"We can do it. You're the smartest guy I know, and I've been known to be resourceful. Plus, we have a world class assistant." 

Spencer stands up and offers you his hand to help you come with him, his fingers brushing yours for a moment that seems to stretch for minutes. "Just curious," he says softly, to your heart's clear delight, "when was your last check up at the dentist?" 

Right. He isn't about to tell you something you want to hear. This is Spencer —you should've guessed an odd question was on the horizon. 

"I'll have to think about it," you say.  

Amy bounds out of the bathroom and paints a trail of water droplets from the table to the kitchen. "He thinks you have weak teeth!" she explains. 

"That is not what I think." 

[evilminji]

You know The Force™? Yes, from Star Wars.

What if It and Ectoplasm, as a vague, all encompassing Primordial Force That IS... were Exs?

Now, now, I here your scepticism. But hear me out! I am going somewhere with this! Possibly somewhere amusing! Might be candy! Who knows! ANYWAY~☆

The Primordial Forces That ARE.™

Imagine um like infinite, multidimensional, multidirectional, endlessly stacking, 2-D pancakes! That are ALIVE. Gods beyond godhood. Inherently Amoral. Not IMMORAL... Amoral.

As in removed from morality.

Outside it.

Just as they are with most things. Time, change, entropy and order. They are the textbook definition of "I EXSIST" in the eldrich sense. It's like trying to understand the thought process of rocks. A black hole.

The best thing everyone can do is move on and accept that our fleshy little meat brains are incapatible with the information we are trying to take in. They DO like us though! For the given quality of "like" as they are capable of understanding it.

It's neat. They are neat!

Why bring um up, though? Well~ >.> remember that "stacked" thing? Not EVERY universe has all of them. In fact, MOST universe don't have more then one! Why would you need TWO Infinte Powers watching you? You're not that special!

And if you ARE, that's not a GOOD thing!

So like? Star Wars? Has The Force. As does every variation and fic offshoot universe. The spin off series. Unknown, undiscovered, "and everything was peaceful, safe, and fine" universe's where nothing story worthy happened.

Danny? Gets Ectoplasm.

The Zone.

Which? Is where Ectoplasm stores their blorbos. The FUNNY ones. The INTERESTING ones. The "I just think they're neat" ones. And FRANKLY? It HAS TO STOP! It's getting out of hand! A hobby is ONE thing, but THIS? The last one tried to invade OTHER UNIVERSE. And now you want to put ANOTHER little crown on your favorite OC?

Stop TORMENTING the little thing! This is BENEATH YOU! No more "edgy" halfa creatures!

Give me that!

Aaaaaand Danny is in Space? W...Why is Danny in space? Danny doesn't WANT to be in SPACE. Danny was about to finally have a burger and a NAP! Guys? Guys, this isn't funny! Where the FUCK is he?? Why are all the ghosts blue?

Why can random space monks body him? But like... only conditionally? The swords are Tingly but the hand wave throw thing? Yeets like the football? And, hell yeah aliens? But boooo, most of them are jerks?

Also >:/ not so thrilled about how people talking about Clones. Or treating them.

And your "Chancellor" fruitloop is very... Vlad. Vibes be RANCID.

He wants to go home but might Have To Cause Problems On Purpose first.

Meanwhile? Skywalker n his secret wife are somewhere VERY green and the white not-wookies are very concerned about her health. But don't worry! They caught the problem early. And prenatal care in important. Also so is mental health. Here, talk to this soft pile of fur with a soft understanding voice! That's elder Councilfang!

Why? Because Ectoplasm is petty. Fuck YOU, Force. If you're gonna take THEIR favorite bloro, then Ectoplasm is gonna take YOUR current favorite TOO! See how YOU like your bloro missing!

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes @legitimatesatanspawn

[heartfullofleeches]

New y/n idea! How about a darling streamer.... but make it galaxy? Like, their either human or alien, and their a known streamer all across the galaxy! Maybe good picks for their yandere being mono or titus since (from what I remember) their the only known yanderes in space.

Ah! Cutie Alien Darling that travels across the galaxy for new adventures, settling down on earth and starting a new life exploring the wonders the world has to offer - streaming their daily activities as a sort of video journal for themselves and anyone who's interested in their journey. Human Yan's just think they're selling a bit for the most part and it's the most adorable thing-

Mono comes across their blog and see a kindred soul as they left home for the same reasons as darling, and crushes on them hard for how their lights light up at every little thing. Speedruns their human body so they can attend conventions Darling ventures to as well and meet their idol in person. Darling would be so happy to meet another wandering soul and take them out to try their favorite foods, and show them their nick-nack collection. It takes all of Mono not to either propose on the spot or scoop them up and carry them back to their ship to explore the galaxy as the universe's power couple.

Alien would believe they're an alien 100% and sprints to any meet ups they have fully decked out in merch official or not if they haven't made any. Appoints themselves Alien Darling's guide to earth and takes them around the places they adore. Piggyback rides everywhere. Treats Alien Darling like absolute royalty and gushes like the dork he is about it's so great to finally have someone else like him on this hunk of dirt - but still keeps up the totally human act. It's also human custom to kiss your new guide and bodyguard with tongue so uh pucker up, please.

Titus watches their streams to find contestants for the arena, but falls for their bizarre, yet effective charms. Sends guards to monitor them from below while he spends weeks putting together the perfect outfit for his grand appearance. Gifts them the finest minerals from around the galaxy and offers to take them on a tour of the universe for their hand in marriage. Alien Darling gives him their favorite roll of holographic stickers and Titus moves the wedding to right then and there.

-

Alien Darling: Hey, guys! Welcome to day four of cataloging my rock collection from favorite to least favorite, and showing you my absolute favorites. There is no least favorite category because I love them all so I will be presenting them from A to Z by name. This one is Aaron-

Mono: [I thought I had full grasp of the concept of love before now..... It seems I was wrong.]

-

Alien: Hey! Did you know it's customary for humans to hold hands with new friends for a minimum of three hours?

Alien Darling: Oh! No, I didn't. [takes their hand] Thank you for telling me, friend :)

Alien, blushing feverishly: Never washing this hand again - Did you know we also touch lips and if anyone asks I am your boyfriend because I am a boy sometimes and we are friends.

-

Titus: For you, my dear. A necklace containing a vial of my blood - the most sought after prize in all the known universe. You are welcome.

Alien Darling: Thanks! Here's a candy necklace I bought earlier. I ate a few of them already, but it's still good-

Titus, internally: Heavens- I can't not fuck them.

[cyanocoraxx]

i know millipedes have become the more "socially acceptable" myriapod but the pitting of millipedes against centipedes i see all the time is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. ueughhgh. i adore millipedes, i think they're neat little guys, but millipedes are hardly comparable to centipedes and it's unfair to lump them together as the "good animal" vs the "evil animal." i see countless comments online saying how ugly, disgusting, creepy, and evil centipedes are.

so, centipede propaganda:

anecdotal evidence suggests they have good memory capacity, able to remember escape routes and the location of prey. cool

they can learn to tolerate handling by humans and some appear to enjoy being petted by humans. obviously we can't ask them if they like it but if a lightning-fast worm made of knives doesn't like something it's going to tell you. a centipede just won't allow itself to be in a situation it doesn't want to be in. but obvs disclaimer: don't handle a centipede without experience and handle at your own risk. research bite reports. etc. be sensible, bites can be serious

each pede has its own temperament. some are comparatively chill and lazy, earning them the nicknames "lazipedes" while others are reactive and defensive.

they feel safest under rocks and leaves (in their banky…) if mine are stressed sometimes i just plop a leaf over their head and they settle down instantly

not all of them JUST eat other animals. some dabble in fruits too! the fruit enjoyers .

they spend a lot of time grooming their antennae. you think that sleek aesthetic maintains itself? their relaxed side esp when grooming is fascinating to see. the creature you likely only see darting away from you at 1000mph is also capable of Chilling the fuck out.

they have terrible eyesight. imagine a centipede with tiny little glasses. don't you feel better now? anyway the fact that they don't see well is part of why they sometimes react so viscerally to things. you probably would too if you were small and preyed on by big things.

centipede mothers fiercely protect, groom, and nurture their babies. they do so for longer than they "need" to in some cases. in a study a variety of pede species were found sharing nest sites in forest canopies, demonstrating a lack of negative spatial associations. this was unusual because we typically expect these guys to not be keen on sharing.

not all bites are due to "aggression" but more from using their fangs in an exploratory nature. think of them as kids but instead of hands they have fangs. it's slippery on you so i'll grab on gently with my venomous fangs. i don't know what you are yet so i'm gonna reach out and test the Texture. you smell salty, i'm gonna lick you. etc.

they are ouppies.

even if you think they're ugly they come in so many colours so there's gonna be one that suits ur taste. there's baja blast blue. ridiculously bright red. piss yellow. candy corn black & orange. if you can think of a colour combo there's probably one out there.

anyway. our empathy for animals shouldn't only extend to those we find socially acceptable or easy enough to anthropomorphize

[teaboot]

Who is your OC that is the most fleshed out? Anything you care to share about them? What is a small detail about them that you rarely think about?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer within a certain amount of time or at all.*

YOU TRICKED ME INTO WRITING AGAIN

BÁTARD!

There is an old rotting seat in the middle of the woods where a young man appears to lay dead. His face is pale, his skin is tinted with mildew, his old wool coat is moth-eaten and moldy. A layer of topsoil covers his lap. His hair, slowly greening, has been plucked at by birds.

A long time ago, a man won a single wish, and knowing that wealth was fleeting and power brought danger, wished for incredible knowledge.

The wish granted him understanding of machinery, of magics, of medicine and physics, and insight into endless possibility. So much information that he cannot stop thinking, making connections, processing it all, struggling to grasp it.

Always thinking, he found soon that he could not fall asleep. Medicines helped for a short while, but he was never truly rested, and through desperation or happenstance he found with some horror that he also could not die.

The story is that a point came where he brought upon himself some sort of curse, to sleep, and to dream, and to never be disturbed.

Excepting, of course, under very specific circumstance.

Not everyone can see him, but those who do have affectionately named him "Alexander".

(He is more or less a landmark, like an oddly-shaped rock by the side of the road.)

Nevaeh is The Daedalus. She has no idea what that means. She has never gotten lost, no matter how far she's wandered.

Her bus always arrives at the stop shortly after she does. When she rides her bike, there is never a roadblock or construction in the way. She isn't always on schedule, but even when she's late, she seems to arrive on time.

She loves her parents. She likes to bake. Her sister is a dork, but they get along fine. Life is good- things are normal.

(Things are not normal.)

Jessie's name is not Jessie.

Probably.

Jessie gives different people different names.

Nobody's quite sure if they're human or a fairy of some kind, but they seem to show up everywhere and never seem particularly fazed by what's going on.

They always seem to be upbeat and unconcerned, but not in an uncaring sort of way- it's more like they just have this unshakeable confidence that everything is always going to end up fine.

Jessie is at the party, holding the host's cat. Nobody knows who invited them. Nobody knows anyone who knows them that well. Jessie offers you a corn chip.

Jessie is at the town hall meeting, sitting in the back row with their feet resting on the chair in front of them. They don't ask questions or interject, but seem interested as they snack on rainbow kettle corn.

Jessie is at the sacrificial ceremony, deep in the bowels of the community rec center. As candles flicker around you and the sound of chanting voices grow closer, they tuck a hard candy into your pocket and tell you not to worry so much.

(Jessie does not untie you from the dias.)

----------

None of these guys are my main character, but they're probably my favorites!!! Thank you so much for asking, I need to get back to work on this! ♡♡♡♡♡ oh, I'm all excited again!!! Aadfgghhfjgdgsggffk ❤

[ghost-headcanons]

Would the ghouls eat something they're not supposed to?

yes of course, SO heres a collection of things I think are their favorite snackies

Sodo

Rocks

any of the other ghouls

The grucifix

Phantom

Rocks

Insulation (so fluffy JUST like cotton candy)

Guitar strings (Sodo's specifically)

Cirrus

Rocks

Old keys

Paint (so smooth)

Aurora

Rocks

Gloves

Plastic spoons (crunchy and tasty)

Mountain

Rocks

Drumsticks (snacks when he practices)

Wine corks

Rain

Rocks

Mossy rocks (extra flavor)

Guitar picks

Cumulus

Rocks

Broken clay or glass pieces

Chalk

Swiss

Rocks

Mountain's drumsticks snd Mountain

the plastic off of single slice cheese

[that-sunny-pup]

Hello! I'm the mod, you can call me Mod Duck! Please respect that this blog is both as canon as I can be, but mostly headcanons, so some stuff might not be accurate or in character! I only had a couple scenes to work off of, so cut me some slack here 🙏

DogDay is 14 years old, and big DogDay/Solar is like. 31

𖤓 WARNINGS:

This blog may contain cursing and heavy topics such as mental breakdowns, Violence, panic attacks, and stuff simular to that. Mod is a Minor, so sexual topics will be kept to a minimum 🫵

𖤓 Role-playing and symbols:

"This is the regular, small DogDay! Hiya friends!!!"

"And this is the big DogDay, AKA Solar: They took my fuckin legs.."

[This is actions and/or thoughts!]

and this is how I'll speak most of the time! sometimes the tags tho

𖤓 other SC blogs:

@the-cool-chicken

@the-crafty-unicorn

@bubba-bubbaphant

@picky-piggy

@hoppyhopscotch1

@acat-foryournap

@bobbybearhugs-blog

@bunny-go-hop-hop

@dogday-shines-bright

@bearhugs-from-bobby

@the-cat-that-naps

@bubbabubbaphant-blog

@baba-chops-emo-sheep

@simon-the-dragon

@rabie-baby-bat

GO FOLLOW THEM, THEY'RE ALL WONDERFUL!!! 🫵

Plus my other blog: @allister-the-procrastigator

𖤓 ART:

[all drawn by me!]

current status: REVIVING!! very soon

headcanons under the cut:

Dogday has Autism and ADHD!

Because of his big ol ears, he has bad sensory issues with specific sounds, especially since he can hear so well. Because of that, he carries around headphones with him everywhere, so if you see him sitting somewhere with them on, he is overwhelmed, do not bother him!!

He glows in the dark like a nightlight, but his pendant glows constantly.

When he stims, he does so with tail wagging, hand flapping, and leg stomps/shakes.

he howls at the sun instead of the moon!

He is TERRIFIED of sunflowers. they stare back, he swears they do.

he finds pop rock candy very fascinating! it's his favorite candy.

he likes basking in the sun! and though he may be busy with something almost all the time, he always has an eye out, and is always keeping his friends safe, no matter what!

He 100% puts others before himself, no doubt.

he also has bad memory. not HORRIFICALLY bad, but its not very good either.

his body temperature is warmer than everybody elses, meaning he overheats easily. In contrast to what most would think, he likes cold weather more than summer weather.

[rottenpumpkin13]

I love the way you write asgzc ♡

can we have more shenanigans between them?

AGSZC Being Chaotic, A List

• Sephiroth and Genesis testing Angeal's strength (and patience) by running up to him and each grabbing onto one of his legs. They see how far he can walk like that. The answer is: not very far before he trips on Sephiroth's hair and the three of them are sent tumbling to the ground.

• One night Sephiroth is completely unable to sleep and texts Genesis. In the conversation he loosely mentions craving donuts. Genesis then suggests they get some from a place across town. They wake up Angeal and take the subway. Passersby have to look twice to confirm, and still wonder if they're actually looking at the Sephiroth with messy hair tied into a ponytail, wearing Angeal's old hoodie, while Genesis devours a jelly donut in an oversized T-shirt, and Angeal uses the umbrella he brought "just in case" to demonstrate how to defend yourself in case of an aftack.

• They skip a boring meeting one afternoon to go to an ice cream shop near the HQ. They're unaware that the price is pay by weight. Angeal and Genesis lose their breaths laughing when Sephiroth's ice cream cup, filled with an absurd amount of candy and toppings, costs 40 gil. Angeal makes fun of this by using it as a makeshift dumbbell and making exaggerated struggling noises.

• There's a very slow afternoon when everyone's in the office where Lazard walks into Genesis' office to find Sephiroth and Angeal being used as makeup practice dummies by Genesis. The alarming sight is not Angeal's dramatic purple eyeshadow, but Sephiroth inhaling some setting powder while trying to smell it, and now he's coughing glitter all over the place.

• Genesis remedies Sephiroth's lack of interest in material possessions and Angeal's anxiety about buying unnecessary things by dragging them out to stores. Sephiroth ends up purchasing items purely due to his friends' influence, such as a garden gnome Genesis pointed out that looked like Professor Hojo, and a realistic human brain bowl. The latter was bought because Angeal placed Genesis' copy of Loveless in it at the store and said "that's Genesis' brain," which made them laugh so hard that they had to buy the bowl or face being asked to leave by the store manager.

• They get so bored at a dull company function that they start mixing alcoholic drinks and making potions with them. One particular mix makes Genesis' throat burn, his eyes water, and his face get so red it matches his coat down to the exact hex code. Lazard tells them to leave quietly because Angeal's laughter is ""making their inebriation obvious."" They "quietly" exit during the president's speech, with Angeal and Sephiroth snickering and Genesis still coughing. Genesis lets out a loud squeal, prompting Angeal to cover his mouth and drag him out quickly.

• Angeal tests Sephiroth's and Genesis' ability to think fast by tackling them at random. The worst is when Genesis is reading or Sephiroth is nonchalantly buying something from a vending machine, and Angeal yells "THINK FAST" before tackling them. Eventually Sephiroth and Genesis want revenge, so they burst into one of Angeal's lessons and dog-pile him in front of his students.

• Sephiroth and Genesis are uneasy when Angeal first suggests bringing Zack around. But their doubts vanish when Zack joins them for lunch one day. He's talkative and interesting, so he wins Genesis over quickly. They bond over shared interests that Zack managed to unearth from Genesis like bad musicals, comic books, and rock music. Genesis suggests trying ice cream with apple juice, leading to Zack snorting the concoction from his nose after Genesis tells him an embarrassing story about Angeal. Genesis laughs so hard he chokes on his ice cream, so there's a point where they're just holding onto each other while choking/snorting/laughing, and Angeal regrets having them meet so much.

• Angeal initially thinks Zack and Sephiroth didn’t hit it off, until one day he hears a loud slam against his office door. When he opens it, he finds Zack sitting on his skateboard, having crashed into the door, while holding a rope that Sephiroth was pulling. To this day, Angeal still doesn’t know what they were attempting, but their laughter made it clear they were at least having fun.

• It's odd. Zack gains a level of familiarity with Sephiroth that took Genesis and Angeal years to build. He can walk into Sephiroth's office unannounced and make spontaneous plans to hang out. Angeal and Zack grow closer too. One day they return from a mission covered in some strange liquid that looks and smells like monster blood. Zack is fuming. This happened after Angeal recklessly suggested they cut down the monster without materia to teach Zack "not to rely on magic too much." Zack is so mad that he ends up lecturing Angeal about being irresponsible. Genesis finds the whole argument so hilarious that he catches it all on video.

• One day Zack says, "So, I have this friend Cloud…"

• Suddenly, Cloud is being steered towards Angeal's apartment for a dinner set up by Zack. Cloud is so sure he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most famous men on the planet, and in front of Sephiroth. Poor kid doesn't realize that in two weeks time, he'll be minding his business in the barracks when Angeal swings by to let him know that they’re waiting for him to join them after his patrol shift. When Cloud asks if Zack asked Angeal to include him, Angeal grins and replies, "No, Sephiroth made me come here."

• Cloud finds himself getting unofficial materia lessons from Genesis, who tosses him a can of apple juice after every lesson and casually links arms with him to gossip. He's trained by Sephiroth, who turns out to be soft-spoken with a dry sense of humor, interested in hearing all about Nibelheim and what it was like growing up in the mountains.

• Lazard is bewildered when he sees this tiny blond trooper enter the 49th level with an official access card. Asking where he got it, Lazard is surprised when Cloud nonchalantly replies, "Oh, Genesis gave it to me so I don't have to call him every time I need to come up here." Cloud then walks up to Zack, punches him in the shoulder, and claims Zack owes him 10 gil for losing a bet.

• Angeal is the resident photographer of the group, and sometimes they'll be doing something mundane and see a camera flash out of nowhere. One day they ask Angeal where the photos are going and what they look like. Angeal pulls out a photo album filled with pictures of them—some candid, some posed, all of them flat-out ridiculous. Some of these include:

• A photo of Zack pretending to choke with Sephiroth’s braid tied around his neck. • A picture of the group passed out in various positions on a living room floor after a joint mission, with empty snack wrappers scattered around, Genesis using the length of Sephiroth's hair as an eye mask, Zack cuddling Cloud with one arm while the other is splayed across Sephiroth's face. Sephiroth is cuddling his sword. • A mirror selfie of the five of them in the elevator coming back from a company Halloween party. Genesis is a circus ringmaster, Angeal is dressed as a knight, Zack as a cowboy, Cloud as a mummy, and the 6'7 figure with a sheet draped over its head that took the photo is a spooky ghost. This is the one photo Genesis can't look at without laughing hard because of how ridiculous Sephiroth looked that night. • A shot of Genesis and Sephiroth tangled in a wrestling match during a training exercise, seemingly having an argument, with Zack and Cloud sharing a sandwich in the background and giving the camera a thumbs up. • A picture of them at a cat café. Sephiroth has one of the cats on his lap and is looking at it lovingly while it laps up his tea. And then the second photo Genesis and Zack recreated, where Genesis has Zack on his lap while the latter laps up his coffee.

• A photo of Cloud and Zack in the kitchen covered in flower after a cooking attempt went wrong. Genesis is seen in the background, on the ground with his head in his hands after having given up on life. Sephiroth can also be seen in the background, but it's just his hand giving a thumbs at the camera.

• A photo of them in a bookstore. Sephiroth told Genesis to hold a book while they pose for the camera. Genesis was too focused on looking good for the picture, he didn't realize the book was a autographed Sephiroth photo book. Sephiroth has his arms around Genesis. It looks like a picture between Sephiroth and a fan.