#I try not to complain about less of a response on stuff like this and be grateful what I do get

[skyward-floored]

it's okay I'm also insane about your writing (that fic was really really really good and I'm still thinking about it)

- hero-of-the-wolf

Thank you 😭

I always expect to get less of a response on stuff involving ocs, but it’s still rough when I write something I personally consider to be really good and only have it get a little attention ...Whereas if I spend ten minutes writing a dumb lu fic somehow it gets hundreds of notes despite me barely putting any effort into it...

...But that’s just me being grumpy. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read my stuff, many thanks thank you 💖💖💖💖

[aakeysmash]

first meeting: college!sukuna and f!reader

content: smut (degradation, masturbation (feet are involved for f), m oral, light slapping (1), manhandling, spit), a little bit of crack, i love yuuji and he's my metphorical little brother okay (he's 9), reader has siblings because i said so, also bigbro!sukuna

It’s not the sound of the sheets rustling that wakes him up, but an ass pressing on his groin. Not like he can complain about not sleeping much; the pretty moans still reverberating in his skull are a testament to that.

He hears a yawn before feeling two hands searching for his warmth. He lazily obliges and scoots a little bit next to the body he has next to him. He lets these roaming hands touch his body, trying not to cringe. He’s not fond of physical contact if it’s not on his cock, and having someone grab his bicep while sighing dramatically about how strong he feels makes him want to puke. But you’ve got to give ‘em what they want before taking what you want.

He curses in his mind. He broke the first rule: never let a chick sleep in your bed after you fuck her. His head is killing him, the sun entering from his bedroom window making him squint. He must have fallen asleep. He remembers everything from last night: whoever says alcohol makes you forget stuff is just weak. One of the guys he shared the complex he lived in threw a goodbye party since he was moving out, and he wasn’t one to refuse free alcohol. His ex-almost-roommate invited a bunch of people from college, and Sukuna remembers that there were a couple of girls that didn’t stop whispering to each other while looking at him, chuckling behind their hands and blushing. One in particular was pretty, dancing and smiling at everyone before focusing her gaze on Sukuna and never leaving it. A classic. He played her game a bit, and she twirled when he asked her to, acting innocent when he asked her if he could lick salt from between her boobs before taking a shot of tequila. Boobs that turned out to still be salty when he licked and sucked her nipples an hour later, and twirl she did, but this time on his dick, the innocent act all gone. He fucked her like he owned her, and she got fucked like she wanted to be owned by him.

“‘Morning, ‘Kuna,” a whisper in the quiet of his room. Sweet, sweet voice whose hands are now traveling towards his hardening cock. He looks at the clock in front of his bed and makes sure to not roll his eyes too obviously, opting to grab her ass to make the process of riling her up faster. He has to leave for practice in 30 minutes, but a blowjob will do.

His hand travels to her front, expert hands finding her clit immediately. He barely touches it and she trembles in his arms, already panting. So responsive. He smirks. This will take less than he anticipated.

“You’re wet already? You’re such a slut,” he groggily says in her ear. She moans. She likes that shit. His fingers find her opening, making sure to take some of her wetness before focusing on making small little eights on her bundle of nerves. “Spread these legs and shut the fuck up. The whole dorm already knows you’re enjoying yourself, you made sure they heard you last night,” he points out, biting her lobe. She opens her legs like the smart girl she is, and whines every time his middle finger catches on the hood of her sweet button. She babbles something along the lines of so close, so close, but right now he pays it no mind. “Don- don’t you dare stop-” another moan. Sukuna dips both his middle and ring finger in her opening, grinding his palm on her clit, feeling her arch her back against his chest. He knows his stuff: he’s degrading, demanding, evil, but he likes his women pleased thoroughly. Her pussy is squeezing him hard, when he suddenly registers what she said and gets away from her, bored. It’s not the first time some random girl thinks she can make him do whatever she wants just because she made him cum the night before. Which is not even completely true, because he always pulls out, even wearing a condom, and finishes with his hand. There’s no way a bum who lets a stranger fuck her is becoming his baby mama. He’s too young to deal with future college dropouts. 

She starts complaining, saying how he’s so mean, ‘Kuna, you’ve been doing this all night, please let me cum, I’ve been so good to you, but Sukuna just manhandles her and gets her on the floor. He seats himself in front of her, grabbing her hair roughly and positioning her head right in front of his standing dick. She yelps, forced to look up at him and his red irises. Her eyelashes flutter, her mouth opens a bit, and she gets wetter. He’s so big and strong, his arm flexing from how he’s making her strain her neck, looking down like a king does not even toward a servant, but toward a roach.

“You’re not going to tell me what I can and can’t do, bitch,” he starts saying, glaring at her menacingly. “And I remember you cumming quite a lot yesterday, actually,” he adds smugly, and she shuts her mouth. She did cum a lot. He never missed the chance to make her scream his name. “Now start sucking, I’ll let you get off on my feet. You should be thanking me, I don’t usually let brats like you stay a second time.” 

He then squishes her cheeks with the hand that’s not in her hair, making her pucker her lips. She looks at him with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights. She’s quite literally hanging off his every word. He’s so sexy. I can’t let him be upset with me, or he won’t let me see him again! I want to be his girl so bad. 

“Open up,” he tells her, and she doesn’t need to be told twice. She’s equally aroused and scared. She sticks her tongue out, getting her hands behind her back and her feet under her ass. Obedient little thing. Sukuna goes to spit into her open mouth, but he makes sure to miss and spits on her cheek instead. She flinches, but she doesn’t move.

“Oops,” he grins, then collects his saliva from her face and slips his digits past her lips, choking her with them. “Swallow,” he commands.

“But-” she tries to speak, and he responds by pressing down hard on her tongue and making her gag.

“I said swallow, whore,” he repeats, rougher this time. She makes sure to listen to him, starting to tear up. He gets his fingers out of her mouth and lightly slaps her cheek with that same hand. 20 minutes left.

“Good girl. Now suck this cock,” he orders. She doesn’t miss a beat, bobbing her head up and down. He pushes her head down how he pleases, and she starts grinding on his foot. The only sound that can be heard inside of the room is the obnoxious slurping she’s making to accommodate his length inside her mouth. He’s big, girthy, with a pretty black band on the base she’s never quite reaching, and he tastes good, so good. Almost like yesterday after cumming he scrubbed himself clean in an extra meticulous manner. Almost self deprecating, almost as if he wanted to remove his skin as a whole. Almost as if he regretted fucking a stranger just for the pleasure of it, again. But like most things about him, it’s only ever going to be an almost. Even for himself.

It’s so humiliating, choking on his dick while desperately trying to find relief, but she has to do it. She has to. His imposing aura doesn’t make her do anything that he doesn’t want to be done. Also, sucking the cock of one of the hottest guys on campus is a major turn on for whoever gets to do it, and she’s not passing up the opportunity to tell her friends from her hometown about it. She’s been at this college just two weeks and she already achieved this? They’re not going to believe their ears. 

She doesn’t know that she’s not special: he’s known for fucking random girls, but they still flock to him like moths to a flame. Maybe it’s his bad boy aura, or them thinking they could change him, but the only real fact is that he’s still fucking and they’re still getting their hearts broken. Not like he gives a single fuck, anyway. As long as he gets an orgasm out of it.

“Hollow those cheeks,” he grunts, and she obliges. He’s getting bored, her head game isn’t that strong, and at this rate he’s never going to cum in time. He looks at the clock again. He has 5 minutes. This girl is sure taking her sweet time, and he’s pretty sure she already came 2 different times from how wet his foot is feeling and how she’s losing momentum again. Disgusting. Nasty whore.

He concentrates on feeling at least a bit of euphoria, making his orgasm nearer. He’d fuck her throat, but he doesn’t feel like it this morning since his head is still hurting a bit, and whatever he decides to do is law inside of his room. He’s about to nut, and he knows her jaw must be hurting, but it’s not his fault he lasts long. They never complain about it when they’re getting pounded, either. 2 minutes.

Suddenly, someone knocks at his door. He rolls his eyes and ignores it. Then, another three knocks. His eye ticks. Time slows down for him: he sees the girl at his feet widening her eyes and hazily looking up at him. He has a quick realization: he was about to cum and now he’s not going to. Then, a slow one: he’s pissed off because of the quick realization. He acts as if he didn’t hear it, again, and the girl opens her mouth again, but whoever is on the other side must be pretty persistent, because they start knocking and this time they don’t stop.

Now he’s not only pissed off, he’s angry. Who the fuck disturbs him on a Saturday morning?

He scowls, scoffs and then stands up. “I’m fucking coming,” he loudly says. He almost hears someone say fucking finally, but he’s not sure of it. He gives them the benefit of the doubt.

He doesn’t spare the girl on the floor a second glance before getting her out of the way by her hair and putting on a pair of sweatpants. She tumbles, not sitting prettily anymore. She looks disheveled and a bit out of words. He senses she didn’t get the memo since she hasn’t moved from her place. She’s pissing him off, too. He hates dumb bitches.

“Dress yourself up. You have ten seconds before I open this damn door and let whoever the fuck is here see you like this,” he coldly says. She tries to respond, and he loses all his patience.

“Ten, nine, eight…” he starts counting fast. She wobbles over her dress as fast as she can and pulls it on her head, trembling, mascara from last night still on her cheeks, a bit of her spit on her chin. He’s so scary when he’s mad. Sexy, too, but really fucking scary. She finds that she’s not able to look up at him anymore, almost bowing while she brushes her hair with her hands. He’s not a king anymore, he’s a tyrant.

“But ‘Kuna, I thought we-” 

He snickers, then stops looking at her again. “Girl, I don’t even remember your name. There’s no us. And stop calling me like that, it’s so fucking annoying.”

She feels like crying. She realizes that the degrading persona in the sheets wasn’t an act, he’s like that in real life too, and she gave it to him like he was special. Like she was special.

He slams the door open and instantly feels a punch on his naked chest. Huh?

“Ew,” you say surprised, jumping back, cleaning your hand on your jeans and making a disgusted face. He raises an eyebrow.

“Ew? Who the fuck are you? What the fuck do you want?” he curses. Who do you think you are?

You stretch your lips, giving his figure a once over. He’s half naked, gray sweatpants low on his hips, very tattooed. A really big contrast with the color of his hair, which is a bright pink. He’s tall, and very strong if his bulging muscles are an indicator of that. You guess he’d look scary if you weren’t slightly upset.

“I’m your new neighbor, if you can call it that. They told me I’d find you here, and I guess I found you,” you tell him trying not to sound too bitter about the fact he so obviously ignored you while you were knocking.

“No shit,” he answers, completely uninterested.

You tell him your name, stretching your hand to shake his. “Hope we can live peacefully for the next couple of years, yeah?” you say, trying (again) to be nice, forcing yourself to smile a little. 

He looks at your hand without bothering to extend his, keeping his arms crossed. He looks utterly disgusted. ”Bye,” he says and he goes to turn back inside his room.

This guy is rude. You don’t do well with people who are rude for no reason whatsoever.

“Well then, I would’ve said I’m sorry for accidentally punching you since I was just about to knock again, but I’m more sorry for my hand who touched you,” you remark, not smiling anymore and glaring at him. 

He raises his eyebrows. Oh, he really doesn’t like you, and he doesn’t even know who you are. Disturbing his peace and acting entitled? Hell no.

“Be grateful you still have a hand,” he growls, glaring at you just as hard.

“Be grateful I let you know I’m moving in without throwing all your shit out of our bathroom, bitch,” you immediately respond. 

He chokes on a laugh. 

“Yeah, sure. There’s no way they gave me a girl as a new roommate, stop using excuses. Did we fuck? Are you here to tell me I’m a big meanie for not contacting you again?” He juts his bottom lip out, like he’s mocking a toddler. “Get the fuck out of my face,” he tells you, starting to close the door in your face.

“No, dumbass, I wouldn’t touch you with the hands of another girl, imagine what I’d do with mine. If you don’t get your shit out in 3 minutes you’ll be washing yourself with hand soap,” you wittily remark.

“‘Ku- Sukuna, who’s that?” You hear from the girl inside of his room.

“Oooh, a girl. Is she the one who put the stick up your ass? Pegged you real good huh?” you ask him, fake smiling.

He looks pissed off to the max.

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you. You, get the fuck out of my room,” he says to the scared girl, “You, we’re done talking, I hate pretentious bitches like you,” he adds giving you a disgusted once over.

He doesn’t expect you to just stare at him, though, and it takes him off guard. He’s confused: not everyday someone tests his patience so hard first thing in the morning and even manages to react like nothing happened. It makes him want to murder you and your stupid attitude.

“Bro, you’re like, so fucking annoying. Whatever, little miss princess who orders everyone around and pretends that they should listen, too,” you tell him, unblinking.

Suddenly he’s all up in your face, towering over you, and you have to pretend that your breath doesn’t hitch. Finding yourself two centimeters from someone’s nose was not on your today’s bingo list. Much less if the person in this situation is more than 200 pounds of pure muscles. 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He grits through his teeth. You can smell a bit of a smokey undertone in his breath, like he’s not a big smoker but still a smoker.

You get even closer, effectively touching your nose with his. He might be scary and the fact that he has a pair of tattooed eyes under his real ones is kind of freaking you out, but you’re not going to let a guy step on you on your first day of college. This should be one of the best years of your life, dammit.

“I called you a princess. Is that pissing you off, princess?” You repeat. He goes to shove you away but you’re faster and get away on your own.

“3 minutes, asshole. That’s all you have,” you say while walking toward the room close to his, not looking back. You feel his gaze on your back, and you flip him off before slamming your door closed.

Now alone, you start organizing your stuff to make space for the bed frame that should be arriving in a matter of hours. The lady at the reception told you that you’d have a male “roommate” and you planned on asking him for help, but there’s no way you’re asking anyone anything if they’re that big of an asshole.

You hear a light knock on your door and you almost jump out of your skin, startled, until you hear a foreign voice calling for you.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

You open the door and almost faint. “Oh my God, he shrinked,” you whine.

The pink haired kid you find yourself facing looks confused. 

“Shrinked?” he says pensively. Then he must see how you’re glaring at him kinda meanly, and he gets it. “Oh! You must’ve encountered Sukuna. I’m Yuuji, his brother, nice to meet you,” he clarifies while rubbing behind his ear and smiling gently at you.

You’re so relieved by this piece of information that your demeanor changes radically.

“Well, I must say you two look identical. Minus the fact he’s a total asshole,” you tell him, rolling your eyes and relaxing. He chuckles while nodding, and you keep on rambling. “I’m sorry for not being nice immediately, but it’s been a long day. You know, moving in and all…” you try justifying yourself, smiling sheepishly.

“Sure, I get it. I just wanted to see who’s gonna be here for the next year. If you need a hand with anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door!” he says excitedly. He looks like a softer version of the beast of the man you just came across, and he radiates puppy energy. You can quite literally see his metaphorical tail shaking and his big puppy eyes blinking happily. 

“Oh! You live here? I thought this was supposed to be a dorm for college students,” you ask, curious.

“Yeah, because it is. Big bro convinced the principal or whatever to make me stay, though. I wouldn’t have had a home to stay at, anyway,” he shrugs. You widen your eyes: these are not things you tell a stranger about. This kid is either too naive or too used to things like these. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, like this is a recurrent conversation for him. Like it’s basic knowledge for anyone that comes across him and his brother.

“Oh. I’m sorry for- prying?” you try saying, embarrassed, before changing the topic. “My door is always open too, you know. I have siblings, I don’t mind being interrupted from time to time since I’m used to it. Maybe we could play together? What do you like to do in your free time?”.

He looks at you with big brown eyes. He’s serious for three seconds, and he looks older, wiser. You can feel the way you’re starting to sweat, when he breaks out in a big smile.

“I like you. I don’t mind talking about the way I lack a family, but it’s nice when people act interested in more than that, you know? I like-”

“Brat, how many times have I told you to not bother people with your yapping?” you hear a deep voice saying from outside your door. The child in front of you lowers his metaphorical puppy ears, turning to look at whoever called him.

“But she’s nice! She asked me about it!” he responds. You hear footsteps approaching your bedroom.

“Who are you even talking-” Sukuna stops mid sentence, glancing at your still standing form, then raises one side of his upper lip, almost like he’s snarling. You reciprocate with a scoff of your own.

“Her? Nice?” he says mockingly. 

“Wouldn’t even have guessed you were brothers by the way he has manners you clearly lack,” you respond, glaring at him. He clenches his jaw and you think he’s trying to reign in his temper in front of his little brother, but that must be your impression, because the next thing he does is get him in the air by his collar. Yuuji trashes a little bit, but Sukuna is too strong, and at one point he just gives up.

“Let’s go. You’re not talking to her anymore,” he says to his mini counterpart, beginning to turn around while dragging him behind his back.

“But she asked me to play with her! Come on, bro, I’m bored when you’re not here,” Yuuji says while pouting. In all of this you just stood next to your open door. You almost pity the little puppy, he genuinely seems like a good kid, and maybe it’s the big sister in you but you’d hate your little brother to be bored and sad while doing nothing.

“If you help me set up my room, we can play aaaall day,” you suddenly say, getting out in the hallway and winking at the smallest of the two. Sukuna stops dragging his little brother and snaps his head toward you.

He narrows his eyes. “You little-”

Yuuji manages to free himself from his brother’s hold and comes running in front of you.

“Deal! Deal!” he responds excitedly, then gets into your room and starts unpacking by himself. You chuckle, then smile to yourself: he makes you miss home.

“If you so much as crumple his shirt, consider yourself a dead woman,” you hear Sukuna’s breath on your neck. Your hairs stand and a shiver runs down your back.

“Sir yes sir,” you say, gulping loudly. It’s not until you hear him walking away that you turn around.

“Yo, big guy, did you manage to free the bathroom from your ugly 3 in 1 body wash?”

He flips you off, then gets out without saying another word.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV

cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.

You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.

Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.

You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.

Sukuna.

The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.

Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.

You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.

The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.

Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!

But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."

So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.

"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.

"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.

"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?

"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."

"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"

"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.

"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."

You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.

"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.

"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.

"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.

"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"

Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?

[cosmiiwrites]

OKAY SO I HAVE AN IDEA. What about established relationship domestic fluff with Adam?? Like waking up in the morning cooking breakfast that kind of stuff (I AM STARVED OF HAPPY ADAM CONTENT)

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ domestic life

.ೃ࿐ adam x reader .ೃ࿐

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ hc/drabble: how adam would be like as a domestic partner cw: cussing, fluff, established relationship, reader is lwk fem coded a/n: ME TOO ANON. ME TOO. sorry for the hold up on the adam fics btw😭🙏

alright SOO

if you're in a relationship with adam, you obviously mean a lot to him

sure, he brags about his groupies and hookups all the time, but he's never actually been in a serious relationship with any of them

and he never stays in contact with them unless he needs a quick orgasm

without a doubt he drops them all for you

so when you’re dating him, let alone living with him, you’re a lot more than a good fuck

at first, waking up and adam being the first thing you see in the morning took you a while to get used to

you’d always find an arm slung around your waist when you woke up, stopping you from leaving the bed

you found it cute at first, but it started to get annoying when adam literally would not let you get up

“adam, hon, babe, love of my life, i gotta get ready for work,” you yawned. “adaaam,” whining his name clearly did not work. unfazed, the angel only tightened his hold on you. his face buried itself deeper into the crook of your neck. “c’mon, sera won’t be happy if you’re late for the fourth time this week…” you reminded him.

“i don’t give a shit,” adam groaned, voice muffled and barely audible. you loved his morning voice: husky, low, less insufferable. “i jus’ wanna be here with you. i don’t want to hear sera’s bitching this early in the morning…” his last sentence made you laugh, earning you an annoyed growl. “fine, i guess that’s fair.”

you settled more into your shared bed, one arm slinging around adam’s neck while the other combed through his hair. adam gave you a low groan in response. “mmh… could just stay here in bed all day, with you, y’know?” usually, you would object, but this time you gave it some thought. laying in bed with your boyfriend, cuddling all day? hm. you let out a defeated sigh.

“…fine.”

“fuck yeah!”

you had actually found a way to let adam release you from the bed without him bitching about you “abandoning him”

that is, by cooking him bomb ass breakfast

the first time you cooked him breakfast was when he was deep in sleep and you were able to sneak your way out of his grasp

he wasn’t happy about you not being in bed with him, but your cooking made up for it.

an unfamiliar smell woke up adam. “[name], what the fuck is that sme- [NAME]?!” he frantically looked around for you, scanning the bedroom, the bathroom, he even checked the closet. this dumbass didnt even try following the smell. finally, adam found you in the kitchen, back facing towards him as you flipped pancakes.

he gave out a sigh of relief. almost instantly, adam pulled you into a hug from behind, head resting on your shoulder. because of the unexpected gesture, you let out a squeak. cute, he thought. “calm down, babe, s’ just me.” he chuckled. “but seriously, don’t leave me alone… i thought you got murdered or somethin’.” you whipped your head around to meet his eyes. was he serious? “first of all, this is literally heaven. secondly, i left to cook you breakfast, dummy. now go sit down or you’re not getting any.” immediately he complied.

“holy fuck.” he said, munching on a pancake. you giggled. “do you like it?” adam stared at you like you had gone crazy. “do i—do i like it? sweetheart, if i knew you cooked like a god i would’ve forced you to make every dish in the damn book.” his praise went straight to your head. you didn’t think he was capable of complimenting anyone that much but himself! still, you weren’t complaining.

not only did you make breakfast for adam, but lunch and dinner, too

when adam came home from work and found ribs on the table, he went FERAL

“baaaabe, im home,” he announced rather loudly. adam scanned the kitchen for you, instead landing his eyes on a large plate of ribs. never had adam wanted to wife someone up so bad.

“oh, adam! i just made some-“

“marry me.”

i feel like adam wouldn’t be too keen on doing chores around the house

washing dishes, doing the laundry, taking out the trash? not quite his forte

once said that it was a “woman’s job,” and you gave him a firm smack to his head (well deserved)

“adam, you NEVER do anything around here!” you complained. adam only groaned in response. “c’monn, doing the dishes won’t kill you,” “i dunno, it might.” “ADAM!”

“fine, jeez! so fuckin’ dramatic i swear…” he muttered under his breath. he reluctantly picked up a sponge and a plate and began cleaning the plate profusely fast. you leaned on the counter next to him, a smug grin on your face to which he only tsked at.

he put away the last dish, finally. “there, you happy now?” he huffed. “very.” you grabbed his face and pecked his lips once, twice. adam was taken aback at your sudden movement, nevertheless kissing you back more fervently. “mph- shit, if this is what i get for doing the dishes, i might start doing it more often.”

[avengers--assembly]

Hoodie thief

Summary: Y/n is sick (although she won't admit it) and steals Bucky’s hoodie. He wants it back. No can do. Let's argue about breakfast food instead?

Prompts used:

7. Borrowed Hoodie

15.” Who decided __is ‘sick person food?”

25. Summer flu

Word count: 1028

Warnings: none

●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇

Sweltering hot temperatures all week long. That’s what the weather app said. That’s what everyone was warning against. Drink plenty of fluids. Sunscreen. Stay inside. All the usual warnings for a normal temperature spike. So why exactly was Y/n shivering like crazy wrapped in one of her thickest blankets?

She wasn’t completely sure, just that the sun was shining through her bedroom window in greeting, and she was in no mood to stand up. Or get out of her blanket burrito. But all that said, her stomach had a dull ache that she was blaming on hunger, meaning she had to eat something.

Her body gave one more shiver as she placed her feet on the floor and hauled herself up. She wasn’t sick. Really, she wasn’t. She had too much stuff to do, like enjoying the nice weather outside. Because it was nice, and her body was just late on getting the memo. She glared at the blanket that dropped on the ground. Her lazy ass decided it was too much effort to pick it up again, so she left it. Stupid blanket.

Walking down the hallway, her summer pyjamas did nothing to help her mismatched body temperature, leaving goosebumps prickling her skin. Scowling, she stomped only slightly into the living room, gaze tracking for any movement.

No one.

Good.

Her gaze landed on an oversized hoodie that was thrown over one of the couches, and she inched closer for a better inspection. Definitely not hers... but big, black, and warm. It met all her requirements. Who cared who it belonged to?

She slipped it on, hands disappearing in the too-long sleeves. The oversized hoodie hung far enough to completely cover her shorts. She allowed a smile to cross her face. Perfect.

Except for a certain super soldier who didn’t share her feelings. Bucky glowered at her, arms crossed, “Cute. 10, 9, 8.” His voice was calm, but his eyes were narrowing in warning. Y/n knew Bucky hated when people touched his things, but by the time she realized it was his, she was already too comfortable to care.

“You’re really going to count down?”

“Take it off.” Was his only response, his irritation obvious. Y/n let out a huff, folding her arms right back at him, “No.”

“Y/n” He warned, taking a step forward. She narrowed her eyes at him, “I’m not scared.”

“My hoodie. You have your own, don’t you?”

“They’re not as comfortable! And they’re all the way in my room!” Y/n complained, pouting at him. He muttered something to himself, rubbing a finger across his brow, eyes closed, “Stop that” He snapped.

“What?”

“Pouting. Makes you too damn cute.” She smiled slightly, but before saying anything, he continued, “Why do you need a hoodie anyway? Isn’t it like 30° or something?”

"I’m cold. No, leave me alone. I want to make breakfast.”

“You’re cold?” His frown deepened, concern flickering in his eyes, only to be replaced by frustration, “And I’ll leave you alone as soon as you return my hoodie.”

“Make me.”

He lifted a surprised eyebrow at her, but there was a playful glint in his eyes now.

“You sure you want that, doll?”

“I could take you,” Y/n said, still defiant.

He walked towards her, slowly at first, and the pace made a brief flash of fear settle in her stomach. Oh, shit. She was still shivering, albeit less, and her muscles were sore. He was a super soldier with decades of training—and a metal arm to back it up.

“Wait, I didn’t mean right now,” she blurted, trying to keep the nervousness out of her tone. She forced herself not to step backwards. It would be ridiculous if she couldn’t meet her own stubbornness.

“I think now is perfect. You still have something that belongs to me.” Before she could react, he scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder with ease. Y/n shrieked in surprise, hands scrambling to find balance as the world tilted beneath her.

“Bucky! Put me down!” He ignored her protests, walking towards the kitchen counter. Only then did he lightly place her on the marble surface, hands hovering a few inches from her waist until she caught her balance. The sudden shift upwards again made her head spin, black spots dancing in the corners of her eyes.

“Nop,” she muttered, closing her eyes, leaning her head against Bucky’s chest.

“Doll?” Concern was evident in his tone. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer. “Yeah?” She hummed back.

“Why are you cold?”

“Flu?” she said back, almost too quiet for him to catch. He nodded along, “You planning on ignoring it?”

“I’m not sick.”

“Fine. Let me make you breakfast.”

“Just cereal.”

“Oats.” He argued, shaking his head at her choice, “You need better nutrition than that sugary stuff.”

“Yuck.” She leaned back from him, her nose scrunched up in distaste, “Who decided oats were good for sick people?”

“It’s nutrition values.”

“Could be fake,” she reasoned.

“Could be. Toast then?” He bopped her nose playfully, smiling as she swatted away his hand.

“Why do you hate me so much? I need sugar to survive,” she said dramatically.

“I mean, you did steal my hoodie.” He answered back, raising an accusing eyebrow.

“If I give it back, will you love me again?”

“Mmm no.”

“What? Why?” She gaped at him, a brief look of confusion on her face. He smiled, “It’s full of your germs now. Don’t want it anymore.”

“Hypocrite. You just hugged me.”

**

They settled on toast with jam in the end. On the couch, they watched some silly comedy, Y/n still wearing his hoodie, an extra blanket lying nearby. The water and medicine were only a precaution for when she stopped ignoring the facts.

Bucky chose to stay indoors today, and Y/n simply joined him to keep him company. No other reason. The other Avengers didn’t need extra information, even when pool day turned into movie watching instead. Nat had joined them later, settling comfortably next to Y/n and only stealing her food when she thought Y/n wasn’t looking.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Called to Duty 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You shift on your feet. Your arches kill and your hips feel like they're splitting apart. For all you know, they are. Every day is a new fun side effect. 

You lean on the counter, standing vigil at the customer service till. Unlike the pharmacists and their assistants in the back, you don't get a chair. You refuse to complain, you know it would only add venom to their gossip. Even here, you're not safe from the whispers. 

The break room is a nest of snakes. You learned that one day as you walked in on a conversation that couldn't stop soon enough. You know they talk about you, there really isn't much else to do around Hammer Ford. Even if it's only borne of boredom, their words still hurt. 

The pharmacy is quiet but for the fuzzy noise of the overhead speakers playing outdated songs on repeat. You reach to rub your lower back. You’re not that big. Not as big as you will be but you don’t know how much longer you can stand in the same spot for eight hours. 

You stare at the till, the blue border on the screen blazing into your vision. You can’t help but drift into you even less glorious future. This won’t change. You’ll be stuck here, working hour after hour, only you’ll be poorer and more tired. You’ll have a whole other person to take care of and look how you’ve done just taking care of yourself. 

Your chest rents and you let out the breath trapped beneath your dread. Something clacks onto the counter and shakes you back to reality. You face, the customer, your vision slowly narrowing back to focus. 

You glance at sigh then down at the bottle on the counter. He has one of the novelty stuffed rabbits in his hand and a jar of cream. He puts those down too and you squint at them curiously. You take the bottle of vitamins and wave them towards the scanner. 

“I read you should take iron and folic acid. Those have both,” he says, “you also should be sitting down.” 

“What?” You frown, the bottle still in your hand, and stare at him. 

“This cream should help with the dry skin. The book said as you grow, you’ll get itchy--” 

“What are you talking about?” You put the bottle down and cross your arms. 

“Do you have a belly belt?” 

“Sy,” you say his name firmly, “are you... are you trying to give this to me?” 

He huffs and pulls out his wallet, “you need it.” 

“How do you know I don’t have it already?” You ask, thoughts scrambling at his kind, thought it edges along presumptuousness. 

“Do you? What do you need then? Stuff for the nursery?” His eyes roll upward, “not much room up there for a baby.” 

You want to shrink into nothing. You straighten your arms and grip the edge of the counter, “I know. Sy, this is a nice gesture but... I barely know you. It's too much. Not your responsibility.” 

“Mm, and where’s the man who should be taking responsibility?” He reaches to pluck up a chocolate bare from shelf on the other side of the till. He drops it on the counter, “you got cravings too?” 

You shake your head. Ugh, you hate how quickly your hormones have your heart racing and your eyes misty. It’s so nice of him despite being completely off putting. No one else, not even your own mother, even tried to help you. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, “sore? Tired? You got morning sickness?” 

“Sy, please,” you raise a hand and set your tone, “really, I can’t... I can’t. Okay, it’s not... it’s not right.” 

“Isn’t. He should be here--” 

“Please,” you pull the stuff towards you, “I’ll put all this back on the shelf and you can just go--” 

“I got money,” he slips his thumb into his wallet, “I wanna buy it.” 

You blink at him. Daye, the manager, watches from down aisle. She looks less than impressed. Shoot. 

“Okay, do you want a bag?” You ask as you ring in the items. 

“Be easier for you to carry,” he says as he offers a hundred dollar bill, “not too heavy.” 

You cringe and take it, stretching it out and checking with the marker. All larger bills have to be throughout vetted. You put it in the drawer and count his change and hold it out to him. 

“That’s for dinner. Get some protein--” 

“No, take it,” you insist, “what are you doing?” 

His forehead lines and he looks back and forth, “what he should be doing.” 

He doesn’t take the money so you put in on the counter. You unfold a paper bag and put the items inside and push it towards him. Your skin is hot with embarrassment. Worse than any judgment is pity. Does he think some vitamins and stuffed bunny is going to solve your issues? 

“I want you to take it and go please,” you say quietly as you notice another customer coming towards the counter.  

It’s old Ed Parriser; his wife, Ginny, is in line with the town gossip, Lynette. He has a bottle of advil and heartburn medicine. You wonder if those are symptoms of his marriage. 

“There you are,” you shove the receipt in the top of his bag, “I need to help the next customer.” 

He lingers then reluctantly grabs the bag, crumpling the top in his large hand. He gather up the money and closes it in his fist. Reluctantly, he backs away, looming just at the end of the counter as Ed puts down his haul. 

“Hello, sir, how are you today?” You ask. 

“Eh, I’m doin’ okay,” he answers in his wheezy way, “ha,” he scoffs as he watches you scan, “I thought Ginny was tellin’ one of her stories again.” 

“Oh yeah?” You look up curiously, putting on a sunny smile, “what did she say?” 

“Said you got yourself knocked up like a floozy,” he chortles, “maybe I’ll just start listening to her--” 

Ed grunts as suddenly he’s grabbed by the collar of his plaid shirt. Sy has him in a death grip knuckles rolled into the flannel as he snarls down at the man, “keep talking and you’ll need those pills. I’ll split your fucking head open.” 

You stand, dumbfounded by his surge of anger and his threat. He’d only ever been soft spoken, even if he was huge, but he’s rabid like a wolf in that moment. Ed smacks his forearm and wriggles. 

“Let go of me, you lump--” 

“Sir, excuse me,” Daye’s smoker’s creak rises from her throat, “is there a problem? Do I need to call the sheriff?” 

Sy puffs through his nose, chest rising and falling as you watch him weighing his options. He wants to keep going. His blue eyes flick over to you and he lets go, raising his hands. 

“Nothing,” he grits out. 

“That’s right, nothin’,” Ed rubs his neck with a cough, “he just protecting this--” 

“Keep going,” Sy’s rolls dangerously low as he towers over him. The old man snaps his mouth shut so his jowls tremor. He looks at you then Daye. 

“Know what,” Ed clears his throat, “I think Ginny was here yesterday. I don’t need all this.” 

As Daye nears, the old man hobbles around Sy’s fuming form. The larger man sneers at the manager as she nears, her phone in hand. He points it at him, “leave. Now.” 

He sends you one last look, his cheek ticking. He spins on his heel and marches out. You bite your lip and look down at the two bottles in front of you. You grab them and gulp. 

“I’ll just put these back,” you offer. 

“You keep your drama out of this store,” Daye warns, “or I’ll talk to Willard.” 

You sniff at her threat. Willard gave you a good deal on the upstairs apartment but people weren’t happy about. Even if the faucet is leaky and the fridge rattles. 

“It wasn’t--” 

“Keep it out,” she snaps and snatches the bottles from you, “if you can lean, you can clean.” 

[mercillery]

CROSS GUILD WITH A CHILD READER

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD + I MOSTLY TALK ABOUT BUGGY OOPS

NOTES: A clown, a swordsman, and a sandman. My favorite trio. Everything written here is so random, so please buckle up. 🫨

You've got Crocodile and Mihawk, both big shots in their own right, and they've got a ton of stuff going on, right? They're busy dealing with all sorts of important things, and suddenly, you come into the picture needing someone to look after you. Now, it's not that they don't care about you or anything, but they're not exactly equipped to handle a kid at the moment. So, what do they do? They look around and think, "Hey, who can we pawn this kid off to?" And guess who they settle on? Buggy. They're both kind of on the same page about Buggy being, well, pretty useless most of the time. But hey, he can at least handle babysitting duty, right? It's like the least he can do to make himself a bit more tolerable to Mihawk and Crocodile. And eventually, you end up in Buggy's care, and who knows, maybe he surprises everyone by not completely messing it up. It's like a little test for him to see if he can step up and actually contribute something meaningful to the Cross Guild, while also maybe earning a bit of respect from the big bosses themselves—Crocodile and Mihawk. Plus, it might even help smooth things over between them all, make things a bit less tense in the Cross Guild. It's kind of like Buggy's chance to step up and show he's not totally useless after all.

Spoiler alert: Buggy is, in fact, useless, even when it comes to babysitting.

While under Buggy’s care, think of that one audio that goes like, “You want a beer?” “He’s four!” “I DONT KNOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HIM?!” Buggy is the one offering you a beer, and it’s probably Alvida scolding him for offering you a beer. He’s trying, okay—and it’s the thought that counts. When Mihawk and Crocodile first told him he'd be looking after you, Buggy's gut reaction was to grumble and complain. But then he saw the looks they gave him—those death stares that could silence any king—and he quickly shut his mouth. Just like that, he accepted his new role with a resigned, "Okay, I am now a babysitter." Sure, he's skeptical about the whole thing. I mean, Buggy and babysitting? But he knows better than to argue. So here he is, awkwardly navigating this whole childcare thing, making blunders but genuinely trying his best. It's a weird situation for everyone.

I imagine that you have been with the Cross Guild for some time already, so this likely isn’t Buggy’s first time taking care of you. Yet every time feels like the first time for him. He's just not a natural with kids. It's like he's constantly second-guessing himself, unsure of what to do or how to act. But you know what really lights a fire under him? Compliments. Especially when they're about how cool he is. Seriously, mention anything about his awesomeness, and suddenly, he's walking on air. You can practically see the confidence oozing out of him. "Oh, you think I'm cool?" he'll say, grinning from ear to ear, soaking up every bit of praise you throw his way. And if you really want to see him shine, just keep the compliments coming. Tell him how flashy and impressive he is, and watch as he practically transforms before your eyes. Suddenly, he's not just awkwardly babysitting; he's putting on a show, trying to impress you with his swagger and style. After that, you'll probably notice a change in him. He'll start to relax a bit and maybe even start looking forward to spending time with you. Buggy the babysitter isn't such a wild idea after all.

And if for some reason Buggy isn’t the one taking care of you, it’s most likely Mihawk who steps up. Crocodile's usually buried under a mountain of responsibilities, so Mihawk takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. Now, unlike Buggy, Mihawk's not exactly awkward around kids. He's just... well, himself. You know, all serious and stoic, like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders. He doesn't really have much experience with children, so he kinda just treats you like a mini-adult. No baby talk or anything like that, he just sees you as a little human being. But don't worry, he's not some mean old grump or anything. He's just firm. Firm as in he won't tolerate any disrespect or nonsense from you, but he's not gonna yell or anything like that. His gaze alone is usually enough to keep you in line. Oh, and whatever you do, don't even think about touching his sword. Seriously, that thing's like his baby—the last thing he wants is a crying kid with a cut because they were being too clumsy. He might let you take a good look at it though. So look all you want, but keep those small hands off. But you know what he will let you have? His hat. If you beg ask him nicely enough, he might just let you borrow it for a little while. So go ahead, give it a try. Who knows, maybe wearing Mihawk's hat will make you feel like a little pirate captain or something.

And then there's Crocodile. When it's his turn to take care of you, his approach is pretty straightforward. He'll plop you down somewhere near him and tell you to behave and stay out of his way while he works on stuff. But what kind of kid is just going to sit there quietly and stare at their dad work on a bunch of boring papers? None. Exactly. So naturally, you start to get a bit antsy. At first, you try to be subtle. You scoot over a bit closer and peek over his shoulder, trying to see what he's so engrossed in. And what do you find? Boring paperwork. You sigh, plopping back into your seat, feeling utterly defeated by the sheer dullness of it all. Then the questions start. "Crocodile," you call out. He doesn't look at you, but you know he's listening. "What are you working on?" "Work," he replies, his voice flat and uninterested. "Crocodile," you try again. "Hmm?" he grunts. "Why are you so tall?" "Why are you so talkative?" "Crocodile," you persist. "What?" "Can I have one of your rings?" "No." He goes silent again, but you're not giving up that easily. "Crocodile," you say once more. This time, he finally glances over at you, annoyance etched across his face. Perfect, you think—this is your chance to unload all those burning questions. So you start firing away. "Why are you called Crocodile? Are you a crocodile? How did you get that scar on your face? Can you make a sandcastle? Can I have your hook? Can I have your coat? Can you make my hair like yours? Can you make me cool like you?" He listens in silence as the barrage of questions comes his way, his eyebrow quirking slightly at the rapid-fire interrogation. "Kid, where are all these questions coming from?" he finally asks, unable to hide the hint of exasperation in his voice. “My head," you say innocently, flashing him a wide-eyed look. It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes at your annoyingly cute innocence.

Now, when it's the three of them—Mihawk, Crocodile, and Buggy—all tasked with taking care of you at the same time, things can get pretty complicated. On one hand, you have the stern swordsman and the no-nonsense sandman keeping a close eye on you while you and Buggy play patty cake. It's a weird dynamic. Buggy's usual strategy in this situation is to dive headfirst into playing kids' games with you, trying his best to act like he's fully engrossed in the fun. But you can tell he's a bit on edge, especially when you notice him glancing nervously over his shoulder, feeling the burning stares of Mihawk and Crocodile boring into the back of his head. Sometimes, the tension gets to be too much, and Mihawk and Crocodile can't resist giving Buggy a hard time, even in front of you. It's like one of those awkward moments when you're watching your sibling get scolded by your parents. You can see Buggy's face go pale, and he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. But then there are those moments when you step in to defend him. Buggy has never felt more grateful and relieved in his entire life than when you stand up for him like the little knight in shining armor you are. And believe it or not, your defense actually does make somewhat of a difference. Mihawk and Crocodile are way too mature to start bullying a child for defending Buggy, no matter how much they can't stand him. Plus, the last thing they want to deal with is a full-blown crying session from a grown man and child. Sure, your defense might earn Buggy even more glares from the two men, but it also makes them back off a bit. You can imagine Buggy clinging to you like a damsel in distress while you stand there, fierce and determined, protecting him with everything you've got. It's a sight that definitely annoys Mihawk and Crocodile. But hey, at least Buggy's got someone in his corner.

It’s pretty much a given that with Crocodile and Mihawk watching over you, you're practically untouchable. Even Buggy, despite his penchant for getting into trouble, wouldn't intentionally put you in harm's way. Sure, he may accidentally stumble into dangerous situations from time to time, but deep down, all three of them care about you—even if they don't always show it. Since you often spend the most time with Buggy, it's not uncommon for him to inadvertently lead you into precarious predicaments. Take, for example, that time you found yourselves perched on a rocky hillside, with Buggy enthusiastically rambling on about how cool and flashy he is. But then, in a classic Buggy move, he trips and starts tumbling down the hill—with you in tow. You’d think your life would flash before your eyes in a moment like that, right? Wrong. Instead, it's Buggy's life and yours flashing before his very eyes. The panic he's feeling right now is like when Crocodile and Mihawk are giving him those death glares, except multiplied by a thousand. But here's the thing: Buggy's luck? It seems to have rubbed off on you because, miraculously, you came out of this whole ordeal without a scratch. Meanwhile, poor Buggy's got a bloody nose, a bruised face, and who knows what else. But the moment he sees that you're okay, it's like a floodgate of relief and joy bursts open. He's screaming at the top of his lungs, cradling you like you're some precious treasure he's just unearthed. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed. And it's not just because of the screaming clown in front of you—it's also because you know he's genuinely relieved that you're okay. (Think of that one part in the movie The Lion King when Rafiki just holds Simba high up—except in this situation it’s Buggy holding you high up and screaming out of joy like some madman. I legit had to search for this scene on YouTube because I forgot that dang monkey's name.) The only problem now is that Buggy's got to come up with a good explanation for those injuries he’s got when Crocodile and Mihawk inevitably catch sight of him. 

When hunger strikes, Mihawk is usually your go-to guy. He's not just the world's greatest swordsman; he's also a fantastic cook. If he ever decided to retire or whatever, he could easily become a top-notch chef. Or he could be the world's greatest swordsman and chef at once, who knows. On the other hand, if you asked Buggy to cook, you'd probably end up with something burnt. And Crocodile? He'd just brush you off with a classic "go ask your dad" line, where "dad" in this case is Mihawk. Of course, Crocodile never actually calls Mihawk your dad, but you get the joke. Anyway, Mihawk takes his cooking duties seriously when it comes to you. He doesn't cook for you throughout the day. Instead, he wakes up at the crack of dawn and prepares enough food to last you the entire day. By the time you wake up, your meal is already waiting for you, perfectly packed and ready to go. And the impressive part is that Mihawk always packs just the right amount of food, ensuring that you're never left hungry or stuffed. It's like he has some kind of sixth sense for portion control. If, by the end of the day, you haven't seen Mihawk at all, you make a point to find him at night just to say thank you. Mihawk, with his usual stoic demeanor, nods at you and sends you off to bed. It's a small ritual, but it means a lot to both of you. Another thing about Mihawk is that he's meticulous about your diet. He makes sure you're eating healthy, well-balanced meals. Sure, he lets you have sweets now and then, but he's always careful to remind you about moderation. He'll explain how too many sweets can be bad for you—not to scare you off sweets entirely, but just to make sure you're aware. He doesn't want you polishing off your fourth chocolate bar of the day, especially since Buggy is probably sneaking them to you because he thinks you're the cutest thing ever. Overall, Mihawk's attention to your diet and well-being shows how much he cares, even if he's not the most expressive guy. He might be stern and serious, but his actions speak volumes.

You have this cute habit of constantly asking Crocodile to pick you up. Honestly, who wouldn't want to be hoisted high up by the tallest guy around? For a kid, it's like an instant rollercoaster ride that's thrilling and fun. At first, Crocodile's pretty reluctant. He’s not exactly the most nurturing figure, and he's out of practice handling kids. But you, with your endless persistence, your pleading eyes, and that adorable pout, eventually wear him down. The first time he gives in is pretty comical. He picks you up with a heavy sigh, clearly unsure of himself. For a moment, he just stares at you, probably wondering what he’s gotten himself into and debating whether he should put you back down or not. But then you flash him your brightest, most radiant smile, and he knows he’s stuck. He figures that if he puts you down now, the cycle of begging and pleading will start all over again. So he resigns himself to carrying you around as he goes about his day. Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose where he takes you. Crocodile decides the route and destination, and that’s non-negotiable. If you start to complain about it, he'll fix you with a stern look and threaten to put you down and never carry you again. That usually gets you to pipe down pretty quickly. But all that aside, being carried by him is an absolute blast. He's so tall that you get an amazing bird's-eye view of everything around you. There's a thrill in being up high, combined with a comforting sense of security, knowing that Crocodile’s got you firmly in his grasp and won't let you fall. As for the way he carries you, it’s always in his arms. On very rare occasions, he’ll let you sit on his shoulders. But there's one rule: don't mess up his hair. Seriously, he’s adamant about that. So there you are, perched up high on Crocodile's shoulders, looking down at the world with a huge grin on your face. Despite his grumbling and sighs, you know he doesn't really mind. In his own gruff way, he’s grown fond of having you around.

You may be a handful, but you're their handful.

[jewish-vents]

Goyim are wearing on my last nerve. I get the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" quote thrown at me regularly, people go "oh just don't watch/read/listen to them" when I mention someone being antisemitic, and act as if Jewish people who are upset are at fault for looking at something we knew would make us upset. And that's just not how this works.

I have never gone out of my way to look at something that makes me upset once in my entire life. I block people and stop using sites that upset me. I installed a Firefox extension to help filter content. I unsubscribed from every YouTuber that I used to watch who was antisemitic, installed an add-on to make them never come up in my feed, and installed an add-on to hide comments underneath videos from me. I've had to drop all my friends. I don't do anything to be visibly Jewish. I avoid any political content anywhere I see it. I have so, so many words filtered on multiple sites.

And the stuff that's allegedly my responsibility to just not watch/read/etc finds me anyway.

Try to watch YouTube? Antisemitism. Try to look at some fanart? Antisemitism. Watch the news? There it is. Searching for a D&D group? It pops up yet again. Look for some Animal Crossing design codes? Once more, with feeling. Walk to the dining hall from my dorm? Right there, in my face, yelling full volume. Go to class? The professors will make it a routine feature of lectures. Walk to the grocery store and back to get food so you can avoid the encampment? The cashiers are chatting about (((the Jews))). Search for something on Etsy for your mom's birthday? It's in the search results. Open up a website you go to for recipes because you want to cook until you feel less stressed? "Top 10 Recipes Stolen By Israelis". Buy a book at the used bookstore to read to take your mind off of things? An entire display is all anti-Israel books, right there to greet you when you walk in. Go to the thrift store to donate things you made or repaired? Your reward for this good deed is a sign in the window with the 'from the mountains to the sea' quote. Go home for a weekend to hang out with your family and naively think in a little town you wouldn't encounter antisemitism? Right-wing people drunk on conspiracy theories talk about their baseless beliefs right on the street where you can hear it through the windows.

There's this thing in psychology called DARVO. Deny, attack, reverse victim and offender. And it perfectly sums up the "nice" goyim's responses. The world isn't the offender, it's you. You're not being hurt, you're the one weighing everyone down with their negativity. They never address the root issue, that being that antisemitism is rampant, they just divert their attention onto something else, something pleasant to think about.

The problem with DARVO, like other abuser tactics, is that if you use it too often, it stops being effective. 11 months in, it's over the threshold. I am no longer going to feel guilty for noticing things are messed up.

If you don't want me to notice it, then change it. The easiest way to get people to stop complaining about the state of the world is to make it even marginally less bad, just enough we can convince ourselves there's hope for the future. But goyim can't do that, because that would take effort and involve admitting they have maybe done a single thing wrong in their lives. And their whole self-confidence rests upon the lie that is abdicating themselves from responsibility for their own actions.

I used to be angry at them. Now I'm annoyed at myself for ever expecting better. Genuinely, I do not know why I ever thought they were capable of being any better than they are now. There was nothing going on to prove to me that they had the capacity to be decent to other people when it wouldn't get them public praise, and most goyim are motivated entirely by extrinsic validation from their peers.

There is no anger left. There's just disappointment. And it's not even disappointment in them, because this is the best that they can do.

.

[hijinxinprogress]

Young justice and the titans not getting along makes no sense to me. You’re telling me the titans did dumb shit and hated being micromanaged by the league but then a couple years later they’re doing the same thing?? that’s so dumb?? the titans are like “god you remember what we were doing when we were their age?? Were we that small?? Fuck, do you know what we’re supposed to do besides feed small people?? This would be so much easier if any of us went to therapy”

The titans help yj get away with shit all the time

“Young Justice just blew up one of Luthor’s vacation homes, did you know about this?? Where are they!?” “Who’s young justice? It’s not my fault…I plead the fifth…?”

Kori has claimed Kon and now has beef with Luthor and Clark

Besides Wally, Bart is closest with Kori and they trade stories about their homes bc it’s nice to talk to someone who’s gets it

Greta and Garth are like sitting at the bottom of a pool and gossiping about their teams

YJ and the titans have city wide manhunt games once a month and the jl hates it bc they wake up to their children trending bc they’re jumping off buildings or breaking into civilians’ houses to get away from each other

They race spaceships if they’re not on planet

Greta and Garth are the worst gossips so they just tell each other absurd things about their teammates completely aware that everyone will know within the next 4 hours

Everyone else makes jokes about how Kons what would happen if Kori and Nightwing had a son (he has anger issues, curly hair, he’s alternative, isn’t white, & he’s the mom friend)

Roy and Cissie only compete amongst themselves bc everyone was so sick of them winning that they started cheating or in Kori’s case incinerating the targets

One time he was talking to Kori about mental health stuff and she’s comforting him and mentions that “yeah you get that from nightwing” and nightwing cuts in “Kori, you do that too?? Don’t lie to him”

Whenever Kon loses his temper he’s not afraid of people thinking less of him for it bc it always sparks up the never ending debate about whether Nightwing or Starfire are responsible for Kons temper

“NO FUCK THIS, FUCK YOU, AND FUCK HIM, YOU FUCKING-” “he gets that from you” “he’s floating rn wdym” “yeah his fucking eyes are glowing that’s definitely Kori’s temper” “look at him doesn’t his face remind you of when kori was pissed after I broke my collarbone?” “no listen dick has that same crease between his eyebrows when he’s mad”

“I’m your leader, assholes” “rn all you are is the leading cause of that baby’s short temper”

Kori helped Kon with controlling his powers bc Clark wasn’t gonna do it

Wally and Bart get along!! From the beginning 

Besides Nightwing Tim is closest with Vic not even bc they’re fucking nerds but bc they’re both so unbelievably petty

Anita and Rachel should not be left alone together bc they’re always doing nonsense with magic

They mentioned air boarding so Tim and Vic are trying to find the schematics for a hoverboard…💀 Anita and Rachel figured out how to make people feel like they’re suffocating without killing them or doing permanent damage (all the scarring is psychological)

Cissie and Donna get along really well and Cassie pretends they’re jealous

Also, Cassie gets along really well with Roy and Cissie will loudly complain about her older brother hating her

the jl is so tired bc they thought the titans would be helping them with yj and they were wrong

[puhpandas]

Do you have any analysis or notes on how different both dr rabbit and Gregory’s personality is like? I can’t read the book of ggy but I’d like to know how different these two are just like Vanny and Vanessa.

OH DO I. u just opened a can of worms anon. pausing tower of hell for this

thisll all just be off the top of my head but I hope itll help anyway :)

from reading ggy and analyzing the shit out of dr rabbits behavior and doing the same with Gregorys SB personality along with ruin, there are immediately 2 key differences

dr rabbit is a character that puts on a front and a show for everything. hes portrayed as a genius who never does something without it being calculated and valuable for whatever hes trying to achieve

in GGYs case, one of Rabs goals was for some reason to play a part so tony and ellis would like him by playing into each of their interests. this was probably to appear more inconspicuous and seem less guilty since no teacher would pick out a kid from their class as someone to be worried about if he has good grades and has friends and seems plenty happy

he would joke around with ellis and play games with him and hang out with him, and with tony, he would say a couple deep sounding sentences to play into Tony's interest in the meanings of life and its mysteries and stuff. he did it just enough to the point where tony would notice it and prefer him over Ellis because of it but he also wouldnt pay him any mind when he wasn't actively doing that stuff

so basically rab always acts knowing exactly what he wants to come out of every interaction and it usually works. most of his personality is fronts he puts on for whatever goal hes trying to achieve

but with Gregory, none of his personality shown in sb/ruin is meant to put any sort of front or mask on. he doesnt even try to put on a brave face most of the time. he usually isn't that scared of things and can push through it, but he also has no problem expressing fear if he actually is scared of something (shown in the lines "its pretty dark in there" and "what was that??" in response to his watch beeping)

a lot of his interactions with people and just his outward personality are really genuine. that doesnt mean hes always nice or kind, but he just does or says what he actually feels. a lot of the time in sb he happens to be in a bad mood (for a. very good reason) and snappish towards anyone interacting with him. none of the 'quips' he says are meant to be funny, it's just him complaining and it happens to sound humorous just because of his personality

so that's immediately one line drawn between the two of them. tldr rab puts on fronts and nothing of what he does is genuine but everything Gregory does is genuine just in the way that it's true to himself his personality and what he is feeling in the moment

another thing is obviously their moral code. i dont rlly wanna focus much on this because its kinda obvious. rab will obviously do whatever it takes to stay in operation and was probably created to keep vanny in check, even if it includes murdering tons of people and glitchtrap abusing vanny through him. but Gregory holds a very specific moral code that I can boil down best to "I wont help anyone who doesnt deserve it, but if they do deserve it I'll truly try my best to save them, even if it means risking my life"

the way that Gregory decides which people are worth saving is pretty basic. people like vanny obviously don't deserve to be saved because shes evil and kills people. but vanessa was forced to be mind controlled by her and puppeted around to do it so Gregory believed she deserved to be saved

and the glamrocks werent because they were killer robots trying to rip him apart for seemingly no reason. gregory had no idea about any viruses or probably that they were sentient until Freddy became sentient but that was already by the end of the game. he decommissioned them with the knowledge that they were trying to hurt him, they're robots and can be fixed, and that they probably will by tomorrow because in a few hours the place will open

rab is also patient 46 so any little quirks in those tapes also apply to him. things like disliking flowers and liking the dark and liking to watch sports are all him, but theres no telling how much he could have picked up from Gregory by being created off of him

as for just like. dialogue things and how they talk, rab is a lot more literal and blunt with the things he talks about. gregory also says what he means and takes it literal, but he talks with "uh... like... I guess.... umm" things like that. rab doesn't stutter and he has a bigger vocabulary, while Gregory calls the security badge stations "badge head things" and stuff he doesnt know what to call "things"

rab is also very good at reading people and obviously a really good liar to the point where he can get anyone to believe what he wants. but Gregory is a very very shit liar LMAO. he literally just said "I'd rather not say" to Freddy about Monty and just told the truth but changed a little with the others

with vanessa and vanny they for sure changed Vanessa's personality in SB compared to the trailers so she turned from afraid and worried to snappish and annoyed. I honestly think that now vanessa is never vanessa at all during SB but shes always vanny, just in and out of costume. this way, Vanessa's like the opposite of vanny with how shes more timid from all the trauma and naturally afraid

so with Gregory and rab it could be the same but with different things. vanessa and Vannys personalities are black and white, but Gregory and rab dont talk or act very differently outwardly so it's more of a mental change

I've analyzed the crapp out of these 2 so I hope this helped a little bit =)

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

hi!! do you have any favorite hcs for each of the gang members?

I have a few headcannons! If anyone wants to hear more about these I’d love to elaborate!

TW for child abuse in Steve and Johnny’s parts, and thoughts of suicide in Johnny’s first headcannon

ℙ𝕠𝕟𝕪𝕓𝕠𝕪 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

My guy is honestly lacking in friends at school. Most of the gang either dropped out a long time ago or are in a completely different grade. He gets along with people on the track team and stuff but most of them kinda just see him as ‘cool enough’ and not really a friend

One time one of the guys from the team held a party and nobody told him about it. When he found out he tried to act like it didn’t matter to him but it still stung. He didn’t even want to go, it was just the idea that nobody bothered to invite him

He’d be that one kid in college that didn’t have a lot of freedom during high school and just goes absolutely crazy. It takes him a semester to learn how to use his free will responsibly. I actually have a lot of Ponyboy college headcanons if anyone would be interested in those.

When he learns to drive he’s actually a pretty good driver, and people trust him to take them places. The only problem is that he seems to be a magnet for terrible drivers. Like he gets on the road and suddenly nobody around him remembers wtf a turn signal is.

He definitely curses out people when he’s driving. Darry has straight up given up on trying to correct his language behind the wheel

𝕊𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕡 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

I’ve mentioned this one before, but he cannot STAND people being angry with him. Like he will just agree with whatever the gang asks to keep peace. It’s a lot of the reason why he hates being pulled into arguments, because he can’t avoid upsetting someone.

Sometimes when Darry and Ponyboy are going at it he’ll just straight up leave without being noticed. He honestly started pushing how much he could get away with it until he eventually did get caught after he was still gone at 4am. Darry felt too guilty to even be able to lecture him.

Because of his aversion to conflict him and Darry hardly ever argue, but when they do it’s UGLY. It’s like a whole world war breaking out in the living room. It’ll almost always end with Soda sobbing and Darry usually just has to like, leave for a while. One time they didn’t talk for three days. People don’t even try to get between them because it always makes things worse. In the end they always manage to talk it out though, sometimes it just takes a while.

Less angsty one, Soda makes people go on walks with him in the middle of the night. Usually it’s Steve, but he’ll take Ponyboy if there’s no school the next day. One time he even made Dally come with him by threatening to go by himself if he didn’t come lol. As much as everyone complains about it, they never tell him no.

In school he had detention like every single day. All his teachers absolutely despised him and he would’ve had to redo his junior year if he hadn’t dropped out.

𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

During high school he’d get really pissed when his Soc friends beat up Greasers. He actually got a couple of them to stop completely, but others just learned to do it without getting caught. They all knew better than to mess with the gang, though,

Speaking of high school, he just straight up wasn’t welcome into most of his friend’s homes. Only Paul’s parents actually liked him, and only like two other people’s parents even pretended to like him.

Darry waited until after his parents funeral to cry so that his brother wouldn’t see him. The priest came and sat with him for a little bit while he just sobbed hysterically.

Sometimes he sits by their graves and asks for advice. He doesn’t get any, obviously, but he always leaves with his mind a little more clear than it was before.

𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕟𝕟𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕕𝕖

When the Socs jumped him, he honestly thought he was going to die. That scared him, but that scared him even more was the fact that he wasn’t that upset about it. It wasn’t until the gang showed up that he realized how much he really didn’t want to die now, but in the moment it almost felt like a nice release.

For a couple weeks after the Curtis parents died, he’d come over every day and just do chores and cook. He didn’t feel like it was a lot, but to Darry who had to do a million things at once while barely being able to get out of bed it meant so much.

Sometimes he’ll sit by the train tracks, and whenever a train rolls by he’ll think about jumping on it and just running away from everything. But he can’t stand the idea of leaving Ponyboy and Dally, so he doesn’t.

Him and Steve don’t talk much, but they have the common ground of coming from shitty home lives. Sometimes they’ll just come to eachother to get an injury taken care of or just to breathe for a minute, and then they’ll just never mention it again.

𝔻𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕟

Tulsa was supposed to just be a temporary stop for him until he met Johnny. Then he decided staying a few weeks wouldn’t hurt. Sometimes he still tells himself he’ll leave eventually, but he knows that’ll never happen.

Before the Curtis parents died part of him looked up to Darry and the way he took care of the gang. That went away after the Curtis parents died and everything started falling apart, but for a while he saw Darry as what he used to want to be.

Him and Tim Shepard have an unspoken agreement that one can piss the other off when they want a fight. At this point it’s basically a challenge to see who can make the other angrier. Dallas won when sold Angela drugs for a party.

Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda will constantly be dragging him to incredibly sketchy parties. They claim it’s for protection but really they just wanna hang out and they know he can’t say no if he’s worried about them getting murdered in a back alley.

𝕋𝕨𝕠-𝔹𝕚𝕥 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨𝕤

He met Darry when they were in elementary school, and they’re best friends. He’s also been a designated babysitter for as long as he could remember. Him and Darry don’t hang out a ton anymore, but they’re still the first person eachother go to when they need help.

Idk if yall have seen that video where they’re making a drink without knowing what everyone else put into it, and everyone is putting in mixers cause they don’t trust Ali. And then at the end Ali shows up and pours in like half a bottle of ever clear. Ali is Two-Bit.

Him and his sister are insanely close. They’re constantly having tea parties and gossip sessions. He made Soda teach him how to do hair just so that he could do hers.

𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖 ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖

One of the most loyal motherfuckers you’ll ever meet. He doesn’t actually like a lot of people, but he will literally kill for the people he does.

Evie isn’t allowed in the Curtis house anymore, not because they don’t like her, but everyone just got sick of watching Steve and her make out. She’s unofficially banned from the DX for the same reason. (Something Steve found very unfair because Soda and Sandy were just as bad the second Darry was gone)

His dad used to be really violent when he was younger, but as he got older he also got stronger and his dad got weaker. Things aren’t bad anymore because his dad knows that if Steve gets scared enough then he WILL kill him.

Absolutely loves speeding down the road in the middle of the night. He’ll drag Soda and Evie on VERY illegal joy rides. Tbh even when he’s not breaking road laws for fun he still drives like an absolute maniac. 

[miumura]

💭 — SUNOO AS YOUR BOYFRIEND !

for my pooks @bearseulgs , thank you dear 🥹🫶

warnings : none?

— obviously sunoo is always cheerful and energetic around others, but when he’s with you, he’s the same just more calmer. you are basically his social battery charger since he knows you wouldn’t judge him if he acted “differently”.

— would get into those silly playful arguments where you go “you’re pretty” and then he goes, “you’re prettier.”

— “you know, you’re so cute.” “you’re cuter.” “sunoo we are not doing this again—” “oh yes we are.” someone stop him

— sure, sunoo seems cute and stuff, but he sure knows how to make you flustered. any time he manages to make you blush, he’s already got the notes app open on his phone and typing it down. so that’s why you keep getting butterflies around him!

— loves cute matching stuff. you can’t tell me he wouldn’t get excited over the cute matching pjs you got for a sleepover </3

— honestly your enabler. you could be trying to stop online shopping and just “browsing” through the website, and sunoo would suddenly appear. “that would look great on you” “you think so? yeah i thought so too—” and you easily added it to your cart. be more responsible!!!

— but honestly, you’re probably his enabler too. no wonder you both get along, temptations take over 🫶

— you two are stuck to the HIP. everywhere he is, you have to be there. everywhere you are, he’s already following you from behind. others wonder how you guys do that. they need some advice too for their partners

— pouts / scoffs when jealous or “angry” at you. however when you just shower him w/ love, suddenly the sour expression on his face turns into a happy one :) keep him happy please

— bear hugs with him!! i feel like he gives such warm hugs

— sudden hugs throughout the day is his thing. he just loves randomly opening his arms and trapping you in his embrace. not that you have anything to complain about though.

— when you’re tired, he’d happily help you with whatever you need, whether it’s removing makeup or helping you put away your clothes, he’s there to help you. he does it even though he’s tired, he likes looking out for you first.

— if he notices you’re feeling down, he’d cling onto you to try to make you feel better. it doesn’t matter if you won’t tell him what’s wrong, he’s sure his touch would help you, even if it would just a little bit.

— the type to swing your hands back and forth as you hold hands.

— lets you squish his cheeks whenever you want. he likes it whenever you do it, just not by the others as much. this leads to lot of complaints and sulking from the others, but sunoo couldn’t care less!! only you and that’s final!

— you two have days where you two just lay down comfortably to talk bs about other people. its like your own gossip nights, exclaiming whenever the other person speaks. definitely your favorite days. and so is it his

— you both are talk and listen people. no rushing, just allowing the person speak and then saying any input. this is why you guys can talk for hours

— tries to use his cute looks to bribe you into doing something for him. and trust me, it works most of the time. almost all the time. no self control, as said before

— also caves into your wants, he just wants to get everything you want. oh you want something? he’s gonna think about it for the whole day, soon buying it just for you.

— what is sunoo as a bf if i don’t mention skincare nights? you’d do each other’s skincare for the fun of it…it usually ends up with wet shirts and chaotic screaming. lovely, isnt it <3

— gift giving is the way to go for the both of you!

— he could drive, but he rather be a passenger princess because he feels like it would be much safer. not him doubting himself. but he will sit next to you, giving you directions and taking care of the music.

— nose kisses. i dont know why, he’d just leave a small peck on your nose or both of your noses would just touch.

— loves playing with your hair

— loves you too much that he would brag you to his friends <3

💭 — one more to go 🫶 also summer break finally starts so hopefully i can post daily…maybe…

ENHA PERM TAGLIST — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @tnyhees @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee

[atopfourthwall]

Tbh you lament what people say about you and bemoan "harrassment and bullying". Yet you told RLM to "eat a bag of dicks" unprompted. You said Oneyplays "Are assholes, fuck them!". You'll constantly lecture your own fans, angrily yelling at them for asking when new Power Rangers are out, or for giving you simple, solid advice like below. You say youve calmed down in reviews yet still yell at the comic creators over minor stuff. The comments you complain about getting seem tame in comparison.

Okay, first of all I did not tell RLM to "eat a big of dicks" unprompted. What I said was "Eat a dick, jackass" while talking about the Plinkett Reviews in regards to how parts of them have not aged well, in particular the line that I felt was a bit racist - "Black people don't like Star Wars" (to be clear - I don't think anyone at RLM is racist [AFAIK]. The remark itself feels like it is, though, but that's also emblematic of edgier, wince-inducing internet humor from the time - we're all guilty of awful jokes like this to some degree, myself included). Now I ended up removing this line from the Star Wars Prequel reviews compilation because I realized it was needlessly inflammatory towards them and some perceived it as me attempting to star a beef with them… when of course I don't want to start a beef with ANYONE, much less someone much, MUCH more popular than me.

And no, I did not say Oneyplays "Are assholes, fuck them" (unless I said this on Twitter a long while ago). I'm assuming this is in reference to a part of the Fallout: New Vegas streams. Someone in the superchats asked a question relating to them and my other guests didn't know who they are. I proceeded to spend all of 40 seconds calmly explaining (though admittedly with a bit of light irritation) "They're other streamers, one of whom apparently does a GREAT impression of me. They're also responsible for popularizing calling me Lightbringer, soooo… screw 'em." That was it. But apparently "screw 'em" was TOO MUCH for a lot of people, because I got flooded with hate from that - videos made about how I was "TRIGGERED!" and "HAD A MELTDOWN!" Because that was one of the first public times I ever talked about how I wasn't okay with the nickname. We'll circle back around to this in a minute.

"You'll constantly lecture your own fans, angrily yelling at them for asking when new Power Rangers are out-" Aaand right there you prove that you don't actually watch my stuff. You're just repeating the same garbage from people who ALSO don't watch my stuff, but assume I have not changed at all, that I am the same person forever whose opinions don't change, whose attitude doesn't change, never gets better, etc.

Because I haven't been angry at people asking when the next History of Power Rangers is out in ALMOST TEN YEARS.

And the reason I know that number in particular is because I started my Patreon in 2014. The question annoyed me so much because I didn't have an answer for them and it seemed like they didn't care about anything else I did. But then I started my Patreon and one of the Milestone goals was actual release dates for HOPR. And thus since then I've been able to answer when new ones are coming out.

You want to know how NOT angry I am about the question I am now? I put it on t-shirts.

You can buy them at https://atop-the-fourth-wall.creator-spring.com/listing/when-is-hopr?product=2 and https://atop-the-fourth-wall.creator-spring.com/listing/when-is-hopr-03?product=2 (I was going to post pictures of them but Tumblr keeps breaking when I try). There's a third one, but I don't think I put that one back up because it was intended for Shark Robot where colors are limited and it didn't do very well.

But this is a thing that's brought up by people who hate me - my irritation at the question as if it was still something that bothered me because, again, they cannot conceive that maybe I've changed. No, I am cringe forever and there is nothing I can say or do that will satisfy them.

But no, I "lecture people constantly" evidently. People say I'm obsessed about this topic, about the bullying, that I just talk about it soooo much and I can't move on from it and it haunts my every waking moment and that such "simple, solid advice" like "Be okay with being bullied" is met with unreasonable hostility and my mind fixated on it constantly.

Unless of course you actually look at what I post, what I reblog, what I tweet about and then you discover "Oh, he actually only talks about it when people bring it up to him. He only made that thread because he said the harassment is starting to rise up again and that was days and days ago and hasn't said anything about it since. In fact, on this very Tumblr he's only bringing it up again because somebody ELSE is bringing it up, allowing him a chance to further break down why asshole behavior is still asshole behavior.

So let's bring this back to the "screw 'em" thing. You'll notice that in none of these longer rambling statements I've made have I brought them up. Sure, in that 40 seconds during the stream I did… but that was in the middle of the first wave of it where it really WAS affecting me psychologically hard… and I have not talked about them on stream since then. I don't talk about them in these threads. I don't tell my fans to harass them. I don't make up some nickname for them or mock them or do anything other than maybe some frustration at them during the thread a few years ago (and I am explicitly telling my fans not do so - if you want to be an asshole to them, you can fuck off from my fans). Because I don't WANT to talk about them. They can do whatever the hell they want on their streams. They can call me Lightbringer there, make weird memes about me. It's THEIR space to do with as they please.

The problem is entirely that their fans come to MY space to be assholes. To repeat those memes, to bully me and call me the name. Some do it innocently, thinking I'm okay with it (which, again - is who that thread was directed towards)… but there are others who are being assholes about it. And I'm going to call them assholes about it and block them. And I'm still not going to talk about Oney because I don't want to - they're not the ones who are spamming Lightbringer in my chat or comments or trying to find some way of sneaking it into the comments past my comment filters to try to get a gotcha on me. Hell, I've gotten some people who have said they discovered me and love my stuff now BECAUSE Oney talked about me.

And I'd really like to know which recent review you saw where I was specifically attacking creators in the manner you seem to think I did. Because being angry at a plot point or a narrative decision is not the same thing as attacking a creator. I'll freely tell you about the ones I HAVE specifically called out for shittiness - the racist, the homophobic, the sexual harassers, the transphobic, the one that spread misinformation, or just the greedy assholes. But just looking at the list of the last 50+ episodes I've done that maybe… once or twice? And even despite ALL those horrible things, I STILL tell my fans to leave them alone - to not start fights with them, to not send my videos to them, etc. Because I don't want my fans to be bullies, either.

I will end this with one final thing: "The comments you complain about getting seem tame in comparison." Yeah, well, that's because you're you and I'm me. Something that seems innocuous to one person may be deeply triggering for someone else. Something that seems like an innocent joke might actually be really fucking with someone mentally, as it was for me. And that's why I've tried to tell people "Hey, please don't do that." Maybe I do it aggressively. But sometimes that's the only way people will listen. If people are still doing it even after I've expressed how much it harms me - telling me that I should just "get over it" or "let them do it and respond with a laugh" even though I keep saying it DOES affect me, then those people are assholes and I don't see why I should give them the time of day.

Hopefully this lengthy response (I really am a windbag) helps people understand or it clears up some bullshit. And if it's still not good enough for you, then nothing less than complete capitulation to being called Lightbringer is the only thing that will satisfy you… well, fuck off.

[ubehalayas-blog]

Kenny!

Kenny x reader <3

Dating headcanons?

Kenny would do anything, I mean anything to just see you flustered.

He's usually the one that initiates any type of physical contact. He sees you in the hallway? you're going to get a back hug/hug or probably a kiss.

Kenny loves that he's the first of your everything, honestly he couldn't believe it at first but he loved it anyways.

He's a gentleman– listen to me, he probably is a pervert but bro respects you like you're a goddess.

Ah yes, body worship…

Whenever he's close to you, you always end up either in his lap or between his legs, SITTING DOWN. It's like.. You’re just sitting between his legs. 

He loves it so much when he sees your blushing face, if you cover your face whenever you're blushing, he will pull your hand away. He's strong.. that's what I'm saying.

His hand snaking to your waist probably is the thing you really love– (because I do) whenever he's close, he will always pull you by your waist! He wants you to come closer? his hand will wrap around your waist then he will pull you, he wants you to pay attention to him? no problem he will move his hand to your waist.

His love language is either gift giving and/ or physical touch.. he makes you stuff! he writes you letters, makes paper flowers, paper rings and everything.

in your first valentine together, he would give you paper flowers and asked you out to be his valentine, UM MAYBE LIKE:

your class finished but as soon as you pack up your stuff, you notice the crowd that formed outside the classroom. What the hell is it this time? you thought to yourself, walking towards the door, seeing Kenny. His hood is off, he has this dumb smile and his hand is tucked in his back, you stood still behind the door, having to process everything. He took a deep breath and walked towards you, the crowd shouting and cheering for him but you couldn't care less for them, your eyes focused only on Kenny. His dumb smile that showed his crooked teeth, you smiled and crossed your arms. He stretched his arm to you, you saw a boquet of paper flowers, your eyes widened as well as your mouth open, you looked at the boquet then to Kenny. "What?!–" you shouted, your hand falling to your mouth to cover it. The other teen smiled as he scratched the back of his neck. "Will you be my valentine.. y/n?" he asked, his eyes looking directly to yours. You smiled and nodded, "Hell yeah?! I will be your valentine forever Kenken” You jumped to him, your arms wrapped around his neck. His arm went to your back, hugging you tighter, "I'll buy you real roses, next time" he whispered to your ear, you chuckled in response, "dumbass, this is enough, you made so much effort, kenny.. I love it" you smiled, taking the boquet from him. Kenny's smile widened hearing you speak, he sighed contently then nodded, "Happy Valentines, y/n, I love you" 

anyways you don't really initiate any intimate physical affection so he does, he likes kissing you, a lot, most of your dates just end up to be a make out session… which honestly you don't complain.

This was supposed to be Kenny x easily flustered reader TOT

I am kind of convinced that you and Kenny's dates consist of cooking/baking dates… LIKE listen (I am desperately trying not to reference Atlas) you would invite him after classes to stay with you in your house then you two would just cook and bake.

Your parents were reluctant with you dating Kenny but since he cooked good food, they welcomed him with open arms, whenever he was around, your parents would always have ingredients lying around the fridge so he would have things to cook.

Kenny was a bit hesitant to let you meet his family but when you wanted to, he gladly took you to his house and introduced you to his parents and siblings. Let me tell you, his siblings loves you so much! They always wants you to be around, Karen definitely calls you with Kenny’s phone to invite you to play with them. Kevin? um.. he likes you too? but he was a bit hesitant/skeptical about you liking him because he didn’t get how and why you would like Kenny lol. 

Kevin always looks at you suspiciously, side eye for real.

That’s all I could think of lol

I LOVE HIS NAME?? KENNETH <3 

[oleander-nin]

platonic yan rottmnt turtles hcs if you're comfortable

A/N, not important: Sorry this took so long, my B. Almost every one of these can be applied to the romantic too, just you know, made more romantic. There are also some on the romantic hcs that can be applied here, but less of them. Kind of like how every square is a rectangle, but not all rectangles are squares. All these fit into romantic, but not all romantic fit into the platonic. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: blood bond mention(Leo), kidnapping, delusions, yandere themes, erratic behavior, Raph babying you, stalking, tracking without consent, spyware, unconsentual touching(non-nsfw, ie: hugs), jealousy, forced friendship

Words: 1371

Summary: platonic yandere rottmnt turtles headcanons

Mikey:

Mikey is the most likely to see you as his sibling, having decided in his mind you both must be related.

Mikey cherishes you as a friend, and whether he sees you as a sibling or just his best bud, he’s acting the same for the most part.

Likes to hang out with you a lot one on one. He doesn’t want to share you with your other friends.

Gets mad easily if you can’t hang out with him because of your other friends or family plans.

You’re his friend, you should be hanging out with him!

Tries to make plans with you for almost every day of the year. You can’t hang out with other people if you’re scheduled for a bake off with Mikey that day. 

If he can’t make plans with you, he tries his very best to get you to cancel your plans with your friends. If you refuse? Uh oh, looks like that bakery you were hanging out at just happened to get destroyed. Must’ve been a random mutant. How disappointing. But at least you can hang out with Mikey now!

Is still incredibly clingy, and he gets pissy if you try to push him off. He understands you’re not comfortable with it, but it still makes him upset.

Subtly guilts you into hanging out with him more. Mikey doesn’t have that many human friends, he just wants to hang out with you. Do you not want to be friends with him anymore? Is he not good enough for you?

If you call him out on his behavior, he tries to play it off. He doesn’t want to admit what he’s doing is wrong, but he’ll tone it down for a couple days before returning to his usual intensity.

Whenever he draws his little family portraits, you’re there too. He never forgets to add you. 

He’ll eventually try and keep you in the lair, probably after a sleepover.

You’re family to him, you should live with him. Plus, you’re his best friend. Why should you leave? You can both have sleepovers every night now.

Donnie:

Wants to control your life. Who you talk to, what classes you take, what your job is, and everything in between. He still tries to make you keep a schedule, and gets upset if you try to fight him on it.

Has a tracker on you and your phone. Has the ‘Donnie Blocker’ on your phone like April’s, as well as some possible spyware.

Still doesn’t like touch, would rather have you hang out with him and help him in his lab.

Shows off a lot in front of you. You’re his best friend, and he doesn’t want you to get bored and find someone else.

Won’t take responsibility for anything he does that is inherently ‘wrong’.

If you have arguments, he ignores you for days, trying to make you feel bad. He’ll whine and complain to his brothers and April, hoping his sorrow gets back to you.

Low empathy for when you're upset with something he does.

If you find out about the trackers, spyware, or other stuff he’s done, he’ll try to lie, or fess up but claim it was for your own good.

Refuses to take them off despite being caught. He might pretend to, but he doesn't

If you ignore him, he’ll just send SHELLDON to go hang out with you for a while. SHELLDON doesn’t leave until you visit Donnie again.

He constantly tries to convince you to stay in the lair.

In his mind, you being there with him would benefit you more than continuing to leave and go to school. He even offers to set up an online school for you or to teach you himself. If you don’t try and leave, of course.

If he sees you as a sibling, it’s mostly the same as how he treats Mikey. You get special treatment, but unlike Mikey, you’re never really left alone. Whether it’s Donnie or his tech, you’re always accompanied. He doesn't want anything to happen to you, after all.

Raph:

Is still really over protective. Treats you like a more fragile Mikey.

He refuses to let you join along on missions or patrols, even if it should be a rather safe one.

Takes control of the friendship in a way? Is constantly trying to build the trust between the both of you and strengthen the friendship.

Raph tries to keep you from hurting yourself, but he ends up acting like an overbearing mother. Everything you do is judged by Raph, and he worries more than he should about your safety.

Practically suffocates you with his concern, never letting you do anything he deems ‘dangerous’.

Insists on sleepovers whenever he can convince you, and drags you into the turtle piles with his brothers.

As far as Raph is concerned, you’re family. Family gets dragged into turtle piles.

Dotes on you like an older brother. Is fairly aggressive with your friends that he deems ‘unsuitable’.

He’s constantly interested in what’s going on in your life, and always asks questions and tries to get a good read on any drama you have.

Will just… Pick you up. Like he does to his brothers, if he deems you not going somewhere fast enough, he’ll just hoist you into his arms and carry you there. Gets sad if you fight it.

Doesn’t like it when you get mad at him or try to set boundaries. Can’t you see everything he’s doing is just for your well being? He only wants to keep you safe, it’s his duty as a brother, and a friend.

Is the most likely after Mikey to see you as a sibling. You’re his family, and it’s his job to keep his family safe. You just need extra protection. You(most likely) weren’t training since you were a tot in ninjutsu.

Because of how much you stayed over already, Raph made sure you had a spare room. One day, you just couldn’t leave the room. Or the lair.

But why would you try to run? Family sticks together, after all.

Leo:

Constantly jealous of your other friends.

He doesn’t get to talk to and make bonds with a lot of humans, so he’s really overprotective of his friendship with you.

Especially if he starts to see you as a sibling.

However, Leo is the least likely to end up genuinely believing you’re related. He’ll see you as an honorary sibling, but he knows you’re not actually related.

Still guilt trips you, especially if you go to hang out with your other friends instead of him. He makes a whole fuss on how you should be spending time with him instead. He’s a mutant after all, it’s not like he has anyone else.

Leo gets all pouty when you ignore him while you're visiting the lair, constantly trying to get your attention away from his brothers. You’re his best friend, not theirs.

Will bribe his brothers to leave the lair when you come over. It’s his job as your best friend to keep you happy and make sure you’re having fun. How can he do that when his brothers are always around, taking your attention away from him?

Will actually drag you along on the less dangerous missions/light patrols. He purely wants to show off to you or start a competition with you. His brothers don’t mind, as long as it doesn't end up compromising the mission.

You know that blood bond thing, where you cut a wound and press the cuts together to mix blood? Yeah, Leo wants you both to do that.

“It’s just a thing friends do to bond, why are you being so weird about it? Oh please, don’t tell me you’re a chicken.”

Is the definition of ‘gaslight, gatekeep, guilt trip, girlboss’.

You don’t get a moment of peace with him. He’s constantly dragging you around to go do stuff together. 

He’s terrified of losing you. You’re his best friend, his rock, his ally. You’re always there for him, he needs you. Honestly, it’s your fault for giving him so much attention. Just stay his best friend forever. He promises to let you pick the movie this time.

[tanix-dragon]

To Be the Dragon: Living as Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii

For many years now (about 6!), I've been in the alterhuman community, thinking about how I want to write about my dragon kintype. I’ve never written much, though, despite being fairly comfortable doing so. This isn’t out of lack of things to talk about—it’s more because I have such a basic run-of-the-mill spiritual dragon kintype (in my mind) that I wasn’t sure that writing about it would do anything for anyone. Besides, it’s all so normal to me. It’s hard to write about your life when it feels so utterly mundane that to pick each piece out of it feels ridiculous. I have a dozen concepts for essays in my Tumblr drafts, but in the end, I’ve just decided to write something big. I’m going to go through it all, all I can think of, because I don’t know if I can pull it apart enough to write about each piece separately. It’s all so intertwined that it’s just easier to write a big one.

Strap in. This is going to take awhile. I’m a wordy bastard and despite how little I actually go into it, I do know a lot about this kintype.

Awakening

This is where most people start, and I’m sorry to disappoint; this is a short one. When I was a kid, I loved dinosaurs, and when I discovered dragons, and I mean really discovered them, realized how cool they are, I felt some kind of deep resonance. As a kid, I figured that it was just because they were the coolest thing of all time. In reality, this awakened phantom limbs (I think? Or just strengthened them. I don’t really remember very well; “I” as I’m known didn’t quite exist at the time, system stuff, you understand) and set me on a path of self-discovery and overwhelming draconity. I was known as the “crazy dragon kid” at school, even for years after I stopped talking about them, and I’ve always been very recognizable, even at a distance, even for people that barely know me, because I “move differently.” A friend once told me that I move like someone put a lizard or a bird in a human’s body, that I have a dragon’s walk cycle, that I have the wrong animation set for my skeleton. That was a very nice thing to be told.

I don’t know. I spent a lot of years with constant phantom limbs and sort of figured that they were normal, more or less? I didn’t think about them. They were just a part of me. Only once I tripped over a dragonkin’s blog completely accidentally in early 2018 did I start putting pieces together, and then it hit me like lightning: oh. I’m a dragon. I’m actually a dragon. And I’m not alone. I started my Tumblr kin blog and that was that. No questioning, no kinsidering, no “am I really?”--I had known that the thing was dragon, but I hadn’t known how it applied to me, and the second I did, I knew it was right. I am a dragon, and that was that.

I’d wondered off and on for a while if someone could have a past life as a dragon, but had never mentioned it to anyone (at least as far as I remember), because I was worried about the response I’d get. Once I realized that I was otherkin, though, I embraced that wholeheartedly: I had been a dragon, and that had rolled over so powerfully that I still am a dragon. It fits, and I love it.

What’s it like?

“What’s it like being a dragon?” my non-kin friends ask me sometimes. It’s kind of almost exactly the same as being not a dragon, except my mental image of myself is a big blue dragon instead of a human. Chronic pain flaring up? Dragon curled up and complaining about it. OCD lashing out? Dragon resting head against the wall with shut eyes and half-bared teeth. Someone annoying me? Dragon with exposed teeth and fangs all puffed up to try to make them back down.

My dragon body maps onto my human body to produce feeling like an anthro dragon most of the time, even though my dragonself isn’t even bipedal. It’s the happy medium my brain can settle on between what I feel I should be and my physical reality, although, again, mentally, most of the time when I imagine myself, I’m as I should be. In headspace where my headmates can see me, I’m quadrupedal unless I’m doing something that requires me to be bipedal. (Our headspace is pretty flexible, don’t worry about it.) All of this evens out to me moving kind of oddly—toss in how stiff and sore I am all the time (it’s some kind of unknown but disabling condition, hooray), and you get someone who moves very oddly. I turn my head like there’s significantly more weight to it than there should be, I visibly squeeze through spaces that are plenty big enough for me as if trying to accommodate great wings, I walk with a slight adjustment to my hips to compensate for a heavy tail, and I lift my shoulders to flare or gesture with my wings. I have slight head movements that correspond to how I move my ear fins, expressions that call for me to bare my teeth, gestures that only make sense with wings, tail, and claws, and a dozen other little things I probably don’t even notice that I do.

I don’t get a lot of species dysphoria anymore. I’d prefer to be able to switch in and out of dragon form (ideally with that anthro dragon that my brain has invented for me as an option too! I do love it as a middle ground), but I can make do as-is. I spent untold centuries as a dragon, I can handle some decades as a human. I’m here now, and I have a different life to live, and frankly, I love humans. I love the things they do, the cultures they have, the things they make, the ways they act, and I feel really lucky that I get to be in one of those human cultures and witness others. I have a minor in anthropology—I promise I’m not about to become a misanthrope anytime soon. I believe that humans are inherently creatures like any other, and can be driven to great good or great evil. I don’t believe that’s a reason to hate them, and besides, some part of me identifies as human as well as my kintypes. Not everyone does, but I do, and it’s comfortable for me.

I do have a few draconic instincts I have to juggle, but none are terribly maladaptive or troublesome. I know exactly how to breathe fire and want to when angry or struggling to keep a fire going in winter, and I know that there’s something in my chest and something else in my throat that are missing, structures that allow firebreathing, but I have phantoms and can mimic it okay, so I can huff and puff and burn nothing down. I have a prey drive that kicks in hard watching squirrels or, worse, rabbits out of my window, but I don’t ever actually chase anything (not that my slow ass could catch anything even if I did). I want to sharpen my claws, curl up in the sun, growl and threat-display with my wings (and do flare my phantoms when I’m in the car and another vehicle does something I don’t like), and a bunch of other small things I can’t think of right now. Again, it doesn’t bother me—it’s just affirmations of my draconity, and most are subtle enough that I can do them in front of people and they don’t notice, or, if they do, they don’t think much of it. 

What’s it like? What a question. What else do I say? Sometimes my chronic back pain reaches into my rhomboid muscles, which is where my phantom wings connect, so it registers as wing pain, I guess. That doesn’t usually happen, but it can. I walk on my toes a lot because I naturally want to move digitigrade. Shocker, I know. I don’t know—what’s it like being a dragon? What’s it like being human, or anything else? What’s it like to be who and what you are?

The Dragon Driik’lor

Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii. Tanix of Fire and Breath. What a name—and one I have known parts of for a long, long time. As a kid, I’d sign off messages and emails as Tanadin of Fire and Air. When choosing a name for myself when I came out as trans (Tanix), I knew that I wanted something with the nickname ‘Tan’ still, derived originally from my username “Tanadin,” because it felt right. Was my name truly Tanix? I don’t know. It feels right, or at least, right enough. I swapped out “air” for “breath” because Tanix lei Dramon ak Voron didn’t feel as right. I guess the question is—who is, or was, this Tanix, and what language is that?

(I'll occasionally be referring to my dragonself as Tanix and myself as… me, I guess. I know, I’m sorry, that’s confusing, but that’s driiv name as far as I know, and calling driik anything else feels weird.)

Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii was a mature adult dragon of a sapient and extremely intelligent species with its own language. My noemata have provided me with pieces of this language—individual words and ideas on its structure, some suffixes, some sounds and pieces of what a sentence should sound like. A few letters, even, for the written version. For the past fourteen or so years, I have worked on uncovering as much of this language (that, as a kid, I called Dranonic, and I haven’t changed that) as I can, and have made up much of the rest. I will never reconstruct an entire language from noemata alone, and I know that, so I just do what doesn’t feel wrong and change things if I get an inkling that I’m off somewhere.

Tanix’s species had some extremely complex social rules and dances that driit largely didn’t do much with. Dragons could be either solitary or live in clans, and driit was pretty solitary. Driit was also fucking annoying. Sorry, but it’s true—Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii was a pretentious, self-centered, prideful, overconfident bastard that had other dragons going “oh gods here comes Tanix again, just smile and wave.” Driit was a bulky, powerful, physically imposing dragon, and driit knew it. (In this human life, my family is actually fairly dense and stout despite being quite tall, so that’s free species euphoria.) As far as I can tell, given driiv five horns and larger stature, driit was female. (I talk about horn count and dragon gender more in my essay Counting Horns and Making Assumptions, or, Draconic Age and Gender, if you’re interested.) However, pronouns in Dranonic are based on age category, not gender, so the fact that Tanix and driiv mate have different pronouns is because of a difference in age, not gender.

Oh, Selkhenar. Selkhenar of the Darkened Swamp. I wish I knew more about you. Muut seems to be the only dragon that Tanix wasn’t a huge bitch to—and let me tell you something. Driit was vain as fuck. My dragon instincts know what driit did and did not find attractive in a dragon, and Selkhenar was considered, in that society, to be a kind of dumpy little green and black swamp beast with a weirdly long face, short ass legs, and kind of weird proportions.

And driit loved muut more than anything. Every time I think about Selkhenar, I get holdover fuzzies and butterflies from my time as the dragon the first go-around, and man, driit was gone for this swamp dragon. I have flashes of memory of much more impressive-looking dragons trying to woo driik and getting passed up, but accidentally tripping over Selkhenar in the swamp just beyond the edge of driiv territory was apparently what driik needed.

They had at least one clutch of eggs together. I remember guarding them ferociously, even growling at Selkhenar once before recognizing muuk. I remember them hatching into the cutest little whelplings of all time, and I remember them being a mix of blue and green and red and black. I remember teaching them to fly, throwing them over the ledge outside of the cave and off the cliff. Selkhenar was below, ready to catch if they didn’t figure it out, but still, uh, not the strategy I would recommend, necessarily. I remember hunting for them, both land animals and skimming the lake outside of our cave, down in the evergreens at the base of the mountain, for fish, even though… Selkhenar was a water dragon and therefore better suited to fishing…. I think it was a pride thing. Tanix was a ferociously prideful dragon and I suspect driit was like NO, MY LOVE, I WILL HUNT FOR YOU, YOU TINY THING… YOU GUARD THE BABIES WHILE I PROVIDE FOR YOU…. and then proceeded to accidentally driik’lor (Dranonic for him/her/themself) into the water. Repeatedly. Over and over. I have very firm noemata of hunting fish, eating fish, and fucking up while hunting fish and fouling my wings and falling into the lake. I was an okay swimmer and was mostly just glad that no one saw, but like… come on. Let the swamp dragon do it. I mean, I’m sure muut did, but I don’t have memories of that.

What’d This Dragon Look Like, Anyway?

Good question! That’s something I have the firmest grasp on. I’ve been drawing this dragon for as long as I’ve been super aware of dragons, and driit has been through a lot of iterations, but I think I’m very close.

Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii was approximately fifty feet long from nose to tailtip. Driit was a deep, intense blue (take a peek at any art I’ve ever done of driik/myself) with bright red stripes along driiv midline—basically, along the spine, down the tail, and along the face. The stripes also appeared on driiv legs and maybe wings, but I’m not sure about that one. Driit had five horns that were either darker blue or slightly purple that curved slightly back and were slightly offset from one another, with each set being slightly smaller than the last and a bit further back, with the single horn being the smallest and furthest back. Driit also had a single nose spike that matched the horns. Driit had big (kind of disproportionately big) ear fins, a more recent discovery of mine and out of date on most of my art, used for communication and showing of mood, mostly. Driiv “hands” had three fingers and a thumb, driiv back feet had three toes and a dewclaw, and driiv wings had four “fingers” with membrane stretched between them and a fifth “finger” that seemed to serve little to no purpose. This wing membrane connected pretty low down on the body (near or on the tail), providing a large area for lift. I believe this membrane was a lighter color than the scales around it, and I have the distinct feeling that I could flush blood into it to make it change color—red, I think? Maybe it was just some markings that could appear. I’m not sure.

Along driiv back were spikes or spines, of a similar color to the horns, lined up perfectly with the stripes. I know that driit had some kind of dangerous weapon on the dip of driiv tail, and I know that this thing had three sharp points, but its exact shape and color, I’m less sure on. I know that the tail itself was fairly flexible, especially near the tip, but was most assuredly a powerful weapon when needed. Driiv belly was lightly plated, providing protection for the vital organs. Driit also, of course, had sharp teeth and a forked tongue, although two of driiv teeth were elongated and poked slightly out of the mouth when shut, which I tend to call driiv fangs.

The Binding

Back in August of 2023, I tripped over an image that made dragonbrain click on and triggered a fear response as well as a flood of noemata. The post I wrote at the time of that discovery is here, but I’ll write it out in a more comprehensible format, both for your convenience and so that I have a more organized version in general.

Some kind of humanoid species (not humans) on my planet found and trapped me when I was quite young, and dragged me to a structure not dissimilar to the image I found, not far from or in one of their cities. My limbs and jaws were chained so that I couldn’t fight or escape, and I so clearly remember feeling my claws and scales scrape over that rough, coarse stone, and the sound of the chains dragging across it. Some of the humanoids rode other dragons, who were clearly enslaved and, in many ways, broken. They had no choice but to obey, or face punishment. Their eyes were dull and they passed over me without registering me, because to acknowledge that such a young dragon was facing their same fate was, I imagine, too painful.

For the record, I was so young that I thought I might be able to carry one of these humanoids, maybe, and not all of my red markings had come in yet. I was very young.

For some reason or another—maybe I was misbehaving, maybe this was protocol with all new dragons, I don’t know—they dragged me to a dungeon underneath a great arena where they made some dragons that they figured they could never turn into mounts fight for their amusement. I was chained up down there, fairly tightly, barely fed and barely able to move. There were a couple of other dragons down there with me, in the dark and the damp, curled up on those horrible stone bricks just like I was. I could barely see them, it was so dark, but they could see me, their eyes more adjusted due to years or decades down here.

My primary companion was a dull red dragon, an adult male, as far as I can figure. I don’t remember muuv name, but it started with an Ez- or an El- with a z in there somewhere, and ended in -iel or something along those lines. Elaziel, Ezkhaliel, Ezkerial, Elzariel? I don’t remember. I wish I did. I remember muut being as reassuring as muut could be, trying to do muuv best for this poor scared youngling. Muut was beaten and broken but incapable of either fighting or being a mount—one or more of muuv limbs were gone or broken and healed incorrectly. Muut couldn’t fly and I think muut struggled to walk. I don’t know why the humanoids kept muut alive, but I do know that I reinvigorated muuk, and muut decided to do whatever muut could to get me out.

I don’t remember what happened, really. All I know is that, at some point, there was an escape, and multiple dragons made it out, or at least tried to. I remember the red dragon shouting “Mor anor axid, mor anor axid! Mor anor axid veran!”, which is Dranonic for “Let them fly, let them fly! Let them fly away!” with “anor” being distinctly plural—you would never call a single dragon “anor,” indicating that there were multiple dragons trying to get away. I know muut wasn’t among them—muut would never make it out, and I’m sure that the humanoids killed him after. I never looked back. I never saw.

I know that there was a light green dragon involved in all that, a female, I think. Muut was chained down there with myself and the red dragon, and maybe others. Maybe muut was the other one in “anor.” I don’t know. I don’t remember much about muut.

I do remember part of the escape—the red dragon’s shouted pleas, the hesitation of the dragon mounts, the sting of the dragonbone arrows fired from the humanoids that pierced my scales (because of course they harvested the bodies of their spent slaves, why wouldn’t they, the bastards), the screaming of my underused wing muscles as I tore out of that place and never looked back, not once.

I never returned. Not even as an adult, not even once my fifth horn came in. I flew far, far away, and never drew closer again. I never wanted to see that place, never wanted to fear it, never wanted to risk it. My two fears as a dragon were that place and the ocean, and the second, I feel, had some kind of horrible dragon-slaughtering beast in it that was a long, instinctive, genetic terror. That horrible place beat it out by miles.

A Couple Other Memories

I remember other things, too, not just that whole… sequence, or what I talked about before. I know that there were some kind of “dragon mimics” out there, some kind of insectoid things that looked like dragons at a distance but revealed what they were close up. They’d either do displays intended to anger a dragon and draw them close, or courtship displays to interest a dragon. Either way, once a dragon was close enough for the mimic to strike, it was too late. A lot of insectoid dragon designs set off my dragonbrain’s “mimic alarm,” and it’s kind of interesting to play with and see what triggers it and what doesn’t. I’m sure I had personal experience with them—I have too clear of a mental image of one trying to lure me in for anything else—but I don’t know the specifics.

One of the memories that I’ve had, crystal clear, for a long time, is my death. I was falling from a great height, wings too damaged to hold me, uselessly streaming behind me as I fell. Selkhenar flew down with me in a panic, knowing muut could never catch me (I was far bigger than muuk), trying to talk me into getting my wings sorted out and at least slowing my fall or something. I remember there being wounds all over me—I’d been losing some great, horrible battle—and peering at Selkhenar, thinking it was very sweet of muuk to be so worried about me but I was clearly lost, muut needed to get out of here—and then a sharp pain at the base of my skull, where it connects to my spine, and nothing. I feel like it was some sort of projectile, well-aimed, that took me out instantly.

I’m still afraid of heights without my wings.

Wrap-Up

There’s more, I’m sure. More specific essays that I feel like I can write now that I’ve gotten most of it down. I could write an essay on draconic courtship, or what little I know of rearing offspring, or whatever else comes to mind. For now, though—that’s most of it. That’s The Everything. I’ve been meaning to put this together for a long time, and now I have, and I hope it’s helpful to someone—either in understanding me, or in understanding yourself. I know that, when you’re questioning something, reading about someone else’s experiences helps a lot. I’ve never felt like talking about my dragon kintype was ever going to be terribly helpful in that regard—after all, there’s a dozen other similar essays out there—but I decided, well, it’s not for other people. It’s for me. And no one’s written four thousand words detailing my kintype before.

That’s the thing about writing like this. It’s for you, and if it helps someone else, that’s just a bonus. Write what will help you, what will let you figure yourself out and document it so that, if it changes, you can pinpoint when that was and track your own growth and change. I wonder what, in a few years, will be inaccurate in this essay? I wonder what I will add, what I will change, in a theoretical future version?

I guess we’ll find out together. Thanks for reading.